“It’s okay.” The bleary comprehension that he didn’t have any condoms didn’t stop me from circling my hips, grinding.
“Want to. Think you...” Muffled moan, as he rubbed my thighs, up and down, working us together. “Know how much.”
“No more mixed feelings?” It was all I could do to ask the question.
“W-we can... We have to...” He lost the thread as I kissed my way down his neck and bit softly into his shoulder. “Fuck.”
A whimper escaped me. “I agree.”
“Not what I— Oh, God.” He held my hips hard, just moving me on him, and I watched his face, watched the pleasure build. “Can’t think. I just... I need—”
He went rigid, jaw flexing. Ty’s legs jerked underneath me as he held on to my thighs, stroking them compulsively. “Nadia, fuck, Nadia.”
“Yes.” The word hissed out of me when he parted the tails of his shirt. It was sexier with that intent look, his fingers skating down my belly toward my damp panties. He dipped past the elastic and down, until he could stroke me. I lifted up on my knees, desperate to come. Four strokes, and I was gone, lost in his arms. I melted over him, draping my head on his shoulder.
“Your turn,” I whispered.
Ty’s head fell back and he squeezed his eyes shut with a choky laugh. “About that...”
My eyes widened. “Wow. Really?”
“I haven’t done that since— Shit, I never did that.” He opened his arms, freeing me to snuggle beside him, and I did.
Part of me was relieved that he wasn’t feeling a cocktail of horrible things right now, including regret. But I had questions now that I could think again. “So...what is this?”
“Afterglow?” He looked positively beatific.
I kissed him. “You know what I mean.”
He brushed his lips against my temple in turn. “Give me a minute. I’m seeing stars here. It was a long day before we went to wonderland.”
“Okay.” Utterly relaxed, I closed my eyes.
It was a good five minutes before he spoke again. “I don’t know what the hell we’re doing. Objectively, it’s still a bad idea, and if you don’t want a repeat once you understand what I can offer, I understand. No hard feelings.”
I already wanted a repeat and didn’t much care about the terms. “I’m listening.”
“I was afraid this would complicate things, and it still might. But I’d like to find a balance, if we can.”
“To what?”
“Being friends with benefits. If you meet someone else or it starts feeling wrong, we go back to being friends.”
“The same goes for you,” I said.
The twist of his mouth said hell would freeze first. “Obviously, we have to be careful. More than we were tonight. I won’t do anything to hurt Sam.”
“I know.”
“If he’d had a nightmare or woken up with a stomachache...” A shaky sigh escaped him. “I’m aware that you care for him, too. So you understand why we have to keep this...separate. Private.” Ty’s expression went butter-soft and twice as sweet as he kissed me. “If this works out as I hope, you’ll be around for him long after you lose interest in me.”
That’s never going to happen.
But I didn’t say it out loud. Too many promises had been broken for him to believe something like that from a woman who just came all over his hand. To his mind, I’d probably say anything to get those clever fingers in my panties again.
“I think you might entertain me for a while,” I said, trying for a flirty look.
The relief in his gaze told me I’d struck the right note. Yeah, your good friend Nadia just wants to objectify you sexually. No scary emotions here. If he knew how I really felt, he’d probably break the world speed record running away.
“Likewise.”
“I hate to make you feel used, but I should probably get home. It’s late.”
He hugged me hard before helping me to my feet. “It’s a tough life, but I’ll think of you while I’m shame-weeping. Where are your clothes?”
“Bathroom.”
Ty fetched them quietly, and I shivered as I wriggled into still-damp jeans. He made it really hard to finish getting dressed because he kept trying to peek inside the shirt I was wearing, his shirt, and it was both frustrating and sexy as hell. By the time I got my jacket and boots on, I was ready to fool around some more. So I rose up on tiptoes, gave him a scorching kiss and let myself out of his apartment to the gratifying sound of Ty cursing.
I probably radiated the just fucked vibe, so thank God Max was the only person home, and he barely glanced at me. Angus and Lauren would’ve given me the third degree, and I’d bet Max would’ve paid more attention, had Lauren come home looking the same way. In the bedroom, I confirmed it. Yep, sex hair, swollen lips, wow, he marked my neck behind my ear.
A little shiver went through me.
I took a shower, imagining how it would be with Ty, all wet, steamy nakedness, and then sex afterward in a warm bed. For us, those moments were likely to be few and far between. As I stepped out of the tub, I realized they’d be confined to the end of the month. Otherwise, any time we snatched would feel sneaky and furtive. And maybe that would be hot under some conditions, but trying not to get caught by a four-year-old was not one of those scenarios. Plus, my turn-on was watching, not getting caught in the act.
I wrapped a towel around me and opened the bathroom door in time to hear my phone buzzing away. Digging it out of my purse, I already had a message from Ty. A pic, too. My breath caught as I opened it. He wasn’t pervy enough to send me a close-up of his junk, but I got one of his soapy chest, droplets of water on the phone when he took it. Hot as hell. He must’ve taken this in the shower.
The text read, Wish you were here.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, Angus woke me just past six by collapsing at the foot of my bed with a sigh. Normally, I’d be up on my own since I had to be at work by eight. Shit, I must’ve turned off my alarm. But he didn’t seem to realize he’d done me a favor.
“You okay?”
“I broke up with Josh for good.”
I’d suspected that was coming. If he’d been able to move past it, he probably wouldn’t have spent so long mentally debating the issue. “I’m sorry. Give me a sec.”
After a quick hug, I wriggled my feet out from under him and raced to the bathroom. Once I took care of business, I washed my hands and brushed my teeth before opening the door. We’d chatted many times while I got ready, so this was nothing new. By this point, Angus had stolen the warm spot in my bed. He had no early classes on Thursday, lucky bastard.
“Can we talk now?”
“Go for it.” I rummaged in my closet, trying to find a clean day-care shirt and tan pants.
“If he can’t control himself for three weeks, what will it be like down the line? I don’t want to be tied to a serial cheater, constantly accepting the apologies and lies.”
Since I’d liked Josh, but I didn’t think he was the best guy ever, I supported this move. “I get it. You made the smart choice dumping J-Rod.”
“But I miss him,” he whispered.
I’d never broken up with anyone I truly cared about, so my advice would be worthless. “Did you meet anyone good at the Majestic?”
“I had some fun with the guy I was dancing with, but he was of the shh, don’t speak school of handsome.”
“Yikes. So not relationship material.”
“Not remotely.” He rolled over and snuggled onto his side. “Can I sleep in your bed while you’re gone?”
“Somebody should enjoy it.” Some people might find this weird, I supposed, but Angus had crashed in my room before.
When I unearthed a pair of wrinkled khakis, I punched the air in triumph and got dressed. There was no time for anything but a ponytail and I shoved my feet into a pair of dark blue Converse. Because he needed TLC, I crossed to the bed and kissed Angus on the forehead.
“Thanks.”
“We’ll hang out tonight if you want.”
“Not Project Runway,” he muttered.
“I’ll take you out drinking, and I can be your designated driver.” That should be the perfect distraction from his personal problems.
He pushed up on an elbow. “I haven’t done the stupid drunk break-up phase yet.”
“It’s followed by sitting in the recliner in sweatpants, eating Cheetos, right?”
Angus shuddered. “I’ll skip to the hangover cure and a good workout.”
“I’ll see you tonight.” With one last pat, I ran to the kitchen, where I fried an egg and made toast.
Ten minutes later, as I got in the car, I realized I should be grateful to Angus. Focusing on his issues prevented me from waking up in a cold sweat, wondering if Ty would boomerang into iceberg territory, no contact between us for weeks, like that one time. Of course, now that the possibility had occurred to me, anxiety squatted in my mind, swelling like a tick.
But something else distracted me. This morning, under normal circumstances, Lauren would’ve been part of that discussion. She should’ve woken up and bitched at us for bothering her and then offered to come to the bar tonight. I sorted through a jumble of impressions and I noted that her bed had still been made at six-thirty in the morning.
She didn’t come home last night.
As I parked, I got out my phone to text her.
You okay?
Fine, why?
Because you weren’t around when I left. Get lucky?
Woke up superearly. Went to the library to study for midterms.
I stared at my phone, unsure how to handle this. Usually, when Lauren didn’t want to talk about something, she said so. Never in my experience had she lied to me. But in a town the size of Mount Albion, the buses didn’t run at all hours, so how did she get to campus that early? It was theoretically possible that she’d walked; it was three miles. But that didn’t ring true.
Good luck, I finally sent back. If she wanted me to know what was going on with her, she’d tell me. No poking around on my end; I had enough shit on my plate.
My hand was on the door handle when my phone buzzed again, but this time, it was Ty. The message just read, No regrets.
Smiling, I answered, None here. Encore?
Soon.
Sam was already in the classroom when I arrived. He smiled at me, completely recovered from the night’s drama. Mrs. Trent put me to work, and the morning went fast. I actually liked it better than afternoons because keeping nineteen four-year-olds on their cots during nap time wasn’t the easiest job. Mornings were quick-paced with a dynamic mix of activities, lessons, snack and circle time. When noon rolled around, the new floater came in to relieve me.
I hesitated outside Mrs. Keller’s office, troubled, but something had to give. If I kept up at this rate, I’d burn out like my mentor at C-Cool had warned me. Mustering my nerve, I tapped on the door frame and she looked up.
“Come in!”
“I have a couple of things to talk to you about,” I said.
“You’re not quitting, are you?” Her look of alarm was flattering. “Then close the door, sit down, and let’s hear it.”
“The first request is, can I have the Friday after Thanksgiving off? I’m going home for the first time since last Christmas. It’s a sixteen-hour drive,” I added so she’d understand how big a deal it was, not like visiting Ann Arbor.
She nodded, making a note. “Thanks for the advance notice. I can work around it. We’re closed on Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah, that’s why I was hoping it wouldn’t be too big a deal.”
“It shouldn’t be. We run a skeleton crew on Black Friday because so many companies offer two days’ holiday, anyway. It’s mostly parents who have retail jobs that need us open.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“That was easy enough. You looked so serious when you came in, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I hate asking for favors. This might be harder to handle but...I need to shave a couple hours off my schedule on Wednesdays and Fridays.”
In a rush, I told her how the practicum was killing me—class at eight and then I had to race straight to C-Cool, where I was helping in the classroom for two hours. Afterward, there was another sprint to the day-care center to get me here by noon and if I was lucky, I might get a convenience-store sandwich along the way.
I concluded, “I just can’t keep going like that.”
“No, obviously not. Would it help if we shifted your hours to late afternoon? I could schedule you from two to six and you’d only lose an hour of paid time, but it should give you more of a lunch break, and I only have one hour to cover daily. I’m sure the new floater wouldn’t mind adding two hours.” Mrs. Keller got out her calendar and started looking at the shifts. “Right now you’re working twenty-three hours a week and she’s got seventeen. With this new division, it would be twenty-one and nineteen.”
“Yeah, that would be better.” Already the tension in my neck and shoulders eased. I could afford to pare down by twenty bucks a week, less with taxes.
She wrote up the sample schedule: Monday, 12–5. Tuesday, 8–12. Wednesday, 2–6. Thursday, 8–12. Friday, 2–6. I looked it over, checked the math. Yep, twenty-one hours a week, but those two trimmed hours would make my life a lot easier. With a grateful smile, I stood up.
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem. I wish more employees would talk to me instead of calling in until I have no choice but to let them go.”
“They probably don’t like working here as much as I do,” I said. “When will the change kick in?”
“I have to talk to Claire first, but I hope next week.” Claire must be the floater who had my old job.
“Thanks again.” I waved as I let myself out of her office, relief practically swamping me.
Time wasn’t so tight on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I had the leisure to go home and make lunch, eat and change clothes, before heading to campus for afternoon classes. On the downside, I had them back-to-back until six. Which sounded like a lot of classes, but the Tues-Thurs ones ran longer to make up for meeting only twice a week.
It was half past six when I got home, and I had zero desire to go drinking, but I’d promised Angus. He was waiting on the couch, ready to party. I summoned a smile.
“Do you mind if I eat first?” The prospect of peanuts and microwaved chicken wings for dinner didn’t sound enticing.
He raised a brow at me. “Oh, Nadia of little faith. Take the lid off the pot on the stove.”
Curious, I did as he suggested and found homemade chicken noodle soup. I was already spooning some into a bowl as I said, “You’re too good to me, seriously.”
Angus grinned. “I know. I’m spoiling you for all other men.”
That was not even remotely true, but it boosted his ego, so I played along. Plus, when his food tasted this delicious, he deserved the praise. With a happy sigh, I plonked onto the couch and savored the goodness.
“You know this is why we asked you to room with us, right?” I teased.
“Why must you be so cruel? Am I only a sassy apron to you?”
“Of course not. You’re also a sassy wok and wooden spoon.” Angus hit me with a pillow, nearly tipping my bowl over. I glared in mock-outrage. “You dare. Do what you will with me but the soup deserves better.”
To my delight, he burst out laughing. Bodes well for tonight. I hadn’t seen his eyes shadow free and shining since Josh cleared his conscience. Angus had a tendency to internalize things and to obsess, so he must’ve been wondering if it was something he did before he went to Europe or something he didn’t do. I wanted him to stop with all of that and just cut loose tonight. My reluctance to go out faded.
Before we left, I ate two bowls of soup, then I let Angus fiddle with my hair. He hated the sheer laziness of the band keeping my hair out of my face. The funny part was, he wasn’t the genius of a stylist that pop culture implied all gay men should be. In my opinion, Lauren was much better. What’s up with her, anyway? But tonight was about Angus, so I let him give me bad sex-vixen hair, then we went down to the parking lot.