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“I know. You’re still hung up on Amber. And you don’t see women again after you sleep with them.”
“I don’t,” I agree.
She turns her face to look at me, and I meet her gaze head on.
“Ben, your friendship means a lot to me. I wouldn’t... I didn’t mean to put it at risk just because I was—”
“Horny,” I finish.
“I’d hate to think I’ve ruined everything between us. I want you in my life.”
The relief I feel that she actually cares about my friendship as much as, if not more than, the pleasure I can give her is alarming.
“Please, can we still be friends?” she asks, and there’s no denying the pleading in her eyes.
As if I never contemplated for a minute that we shouldn’t be, I nod. “We can still be friends.”
“Thank God.” The relief in her voice is obvious. “Let’s just chalk this up to too much wine and my overactive libido due to self-imposed chastity.”
“Your drought has been broken now.” I offer her a small smile. “Maybe you’ll be okay for another six months.”
“Let’s hope so, because that shouldn’t happen again.” She bites her lip and stares at my mouth again, and lust and dread knock together inside me. “Right?”
“It can’t happen again.”
Tonight was a once-off. I’ll never forget how good it was, or how Lainey looked as she fell apart on top of me, but repeating the mistake really would ruin everything.
“So, we’ll just pretend this never happened?” Lainey asks me hopefully.
“We’re already moving on,” I say.
“Great.”
“Well, I should get going,” I tell her after a slightly uncomfortable pause. “Call an Uber and head home.”
Lainey nods, though I can’t help but think she looks a little disappointed I’m leaving. It’s for the best, though. I don’t stick around after sex. Post-coital conversations and cuddling are for relationships. Lainey and I might still be friends, but I can’t do relationship-type things with her. I will never do relationship-type things with anyone ever again. No exceptions when it comes to this.
Not even for Lainey.
