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She smiles, though it’s small and missing its usual level of brightness. “I thought you might be hungry, so I made enough dinner for both of us. It’s just lamb casserole. Do you want some?”
Lainey cooked for me? Warmth spreads through my chest at the thought. I can cook, but more often than not I don’t. Amber didn’t cook for me while we were together, and my father didn’t cook much more than beans on toast when I lived at home with him. I think the last time I had a home-cooked meal was when Amber and Duncan’s parents invited me to dinner. So, lamb casserole sounds pretty damn good right now.
“I’m starving, and it smells great. I’d love some.”
“It’s ready to go. I just need to serve up.”
The food tastes even better than it smells, and even though Lainey bought beer for me, I’ve decided to drink the wine she’s having with it instead. It’s the same drop we shared at Cass’s. Maybe that’s why I think the wine tastes just as good as the meal does—it brings back memories of the first night Lainey and I had sex.
I’m so engrossed in eating that it takes me a few minutes to notice Lainey isn’t nearly as hungry as I am. In fact, she’s pushing her food around her plate as though she can’t bear to actually taste it.
“What’s up, Lainey?”
Her eyes dart up to meet mine. “What do you mean?”
“You’re either nervous about something, or you’re not hungry. And I find that hard to believe since the food tastes incredible. What’s going on?”
“Nothing is going on,” she tells me, though she can’t seem to look me in the eye while she says it. “I’m just not that hungry.”
This interaction takes me straight back to my time with Amber, a time when I knew there was something wrong—something just not right about us and what she felt for me—and I ignored those feelings. I’m not doing the same tonight. The signs are too obvious to ignore: Lainey’s less than bright smile when I arrived, the dinner, the wine, her nerves. It all adds up to something.
God, this is a lead into a conversation about us and what we’re doing, I know it. We haven’t talked about what happens after I get this alarm system installed, but Lainey wants to. Stupidly, I hoped we might just be able to keep doing what we’ve been doing without discussing it or defining it. I’m an idiot. Women always want to talk about this stuff.
And I’m always shit at these conversations.
I push my plate away. “It seems like you’ve got something to say, so why don’t you just come out and say it?”
She puts down her fork and gives up all pretence of eating. The bottom drops out of my stomach as she raises clear green eyes to mine, revealing her vulnerability.
“I... I was just thinking that the last few days have been great. Amazing, even. But it’s over now and—”
“Does it need to be over?” I ask, my heart pounding too fast.
Now that the topic has come up, I have no choice but to grab the ball and run with it—clue her in on how I see things possibly working between us.
“The last few days have been good,” I say. “Amazing, as you said. I like what we’ve been doing. I don’t want to stop.”
“Ben...” Her eyes are full of confusion. “I’m not really good with the concept of casual sex and I’m not sure that we should continue... this.”
Lainey has always said she doesn’t think she could do casual sex, so I probably should have expected this. And hell, putting an end to our casual thing is probably the smart thing to do, but I don’t want to.
“I know this kind of thing isn’t your standard M.O., Lainey, but I think it could work for us.”
She’s been missing sex and she’s worried about how long it will take for her to be ready for another relationship. She’s still hung up on Lucas and not interested in being with someone else yet. So, it makes sense to me that we should continue this. We can keep hanging out and having friendly fun, and she’ll know she’s safe.
Plus, she can be herself with me—something she keeps talking about lately. She knows she doesn’t have to impress me or put on an act. She doesn’t have to lie and pretend she’s someone she’s not. She said she wanted me to teach her not to give a shit. Our time together will just be one more lesson. Weeks ago, she told me no one has ever loved her for being her, but that’s because she hasn’t let the men she’s been with see her. She’s been too busy trying to be what they want her to be. She deserves to be happy—to stop worrying so much about what other people think. If I can play a part in her future happiness by being the one who breaks her out of that habit, then I’ll take it.
“For how long?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.
“Until you’re over Lucas or you’re ready for a relationship.”
The thought of Lainey coming to me one day soon and telling me she’s ready to have a relationship with another man throws up questions I don’t want to answer. What will I do if she decides she doesn’t need me once she has a boyfriend? My stomach flips and acid climbs up the back of my throat as anger burns through me. The feeling of rejection is as real as if it’s already happened.
“I have no idea how long that will take,” she says.
“Neither do I,” I say, relieved it might be a way off. “We’ll play things by ear. I know you’re used to relationships, Lainey, and you’re nervous about this because it’s different, but you can trust me. If we keep doing this, I won’t lie to you, and I’ll never let you lie to yourself about me. You already know how I feel about relationships.”
Relationships bring up all kinds of expectations—expectations I failed to meet with Amber, and expectations I don’t want to fail to meet with Lainey. As her friend, I can be what she needs me to be. As a man... as her partner, I’d fall woefully short of the mark.
