green seedlings,
she glanced over. “Ummm. Okay. Not sounding happy about this.”
Perched on the edge of the raised bed, Molly looked
at the clump of various neighbors—all weeding different vegetable
beds—without really seeing them. “Abby, this is bad!”
Her friend glanced up. “How exactly? I mean, was it bad?”
“No, it was great. Really great! But it’s bad because
he’s still relying on my help for the home improvement blog. At
least a little. I’m still helping him to learn some things and, oh,
I threatened to tell his boss about our arrangement, and he’s been
my best friend for the last six years. All that. This isn’t simple.
How do I know he even likes me that way? I mean, maybe he had sex
with me just to keep me helping him. It could have been that,
right? Maybe he’s not into me that way, at all.”
She glanced at her watch and over at Molly as she
began to gather up her gardening tools. “I’ve got to go pretty
quickly here, but you said you guys had good sex. Great sex.
Guys can’t fake this. At least I’ve never known one that did. But
Drake clearly was having a great time. That would be an
indication that he likes you that way .”
“Don’t be too sure of that.” She gave Abby a deadpan
look. “Won’t men pretty much jump any woman who’s willing? I mean,
I’d have to have bad breath and a visible sexually-transmitted
disease before he’d turn me down.”
“Not true. Drake’s never been that desperate. He’s
too good-looking and he’s never had to work that hard to get women.
Come on walk with me to the faucet.” Abby and she tramped across
the plot of land. “Haven’t you always said that he’s more sexually
fastidious than most guys you know? He’s not the kind who whips it
out for just anyone. Other than the sex buddies, I mean. You did
say he has had a couple, but he doesn’t even see them that often.
Do you think you’re just another sex buddy? Did he say that?”
Molly smiled at her word choice, but felt the need to
point out. “He’s never hidden the fact that he has women he just
has sex with sometimes. No strings. But, no, he didn’t actually say
we were bed buddies.”
Abby turned on the faucet and then said to her
friend. “He got a little crazy after college, but heck, most of us
do. Did he say anything before you guys got it on?”
“No.” Molly was miserably aware of having failed the
smart modern girl requirement of finding out what a guy wanted,
exactly, before ripping his clothes off. “He—he and I kissed and
everything started like a flash fire. We didn’t talk much, if you
get my drift.”
“Drift gotten,” her friend said with a grin.
“What about afterwards?”
Shaking her head, Molly said, “Afterward was just
bad. We didn’t know what to say to one another. We walked to the
parking lot and both drove away. I haven’t talked with him since
and it’s been several days. To be honest, Abby, I don’t know what
to say.”
They slowly walked toward Abby’s car.
“Tell him you liked it a lot? Say you’d like to do it
again real soon and, oh, by the way, what does he think this is? I
think those would be good things to start with.”
Molly turned her head to look at her friend. “I’m
afraid, Abby. You know how I feel about Drake. What if I was just
an itch he wanted to scratch? What if he’s just stringing me along
so I’ll keep feeding him material for his blog? His life is so
messed up right now—and I’m in the middle of this crazy Easter
Picnic job—that this…thing between us doesn’t make sense, at
all.”
They stopped when they reached the asphalt.
“Look.” Her friend put an encouraging hand on her
arm. “You need to talk with Drake. He might not give a crap about
the blog anymore. You don’t know. After all, he hasn’t contacted
you, asking for more help, has he? Maybe he’s finding his
feet.”
“I hope so,” she said, trying not to sound as
miserable as she felt.
* * *
“Okay,” Mike
she glanced over. “Ummm. Okay. Not sounding happy about this.”
Perched on the edge of the raised bed, Molly looked
at the clump of various neighbors—all weeding different vegetable
beds—without really seeing them. “Abby, this is bad!”
Her friend glanced up. “How exactly? I mean, was it bad?”
“No, it was great. Really great! But it’s bad because
he’s still relying on my help for the home improvement blog. At
least a little. I’m still helping him to learn some things and, oh,
I threatened to tell his boss about our arrangement, and he’s been
my best friend for the last six years. All that. This isn’t simple.
How do I know he even likes me that way? I mean, maybe he had sex
with me just to keep me helping him. It could have been that,
right? Maybe he’s not into me that way, at all.”
She glanced at her watch and over at Molly as she
began to gather up her gardening tools. “I’ve got to go pretty
quickly here, but you said you guys had good sex. Great sex.
Guys can’t fake this. At least I’ve never known one that did. But
Drake clearly was having a great time. That would be an
indication that he likes you that way .”
“Don’t be too sure of that.” She gave Abby a deadpan
look. “Won’t men pretty much jump any woman who’s willing? I mean,
I’d have to have bad breath and a visible sexually-transmitted
disease before he’d turn me down.”
“Not true. Drake’s never been that desperate. He’s
too good-looking and he’s never had to work that hard to get women.
Come on walk with me to the faucet.” Abby and she tramped across
the plot of land. “Haven’t you always said that he’s more sexually
fastidious than most guys you know? He’s not the kind who whips it
out for just anyone. Other than the sex buddies, I mean. You did
say he has had a couple, but he doesn’t even see them that often.
Do you think you’re just another sex buddy? Did he say that?”
Molly smiled at her word choice, but felt the need to
point out. “He’s never hidden the fact that he has women he just
has sex with sometimes. No strings. But, no, he didn’t actually say
we were bed buddies.”
Abby turned on the faucet and then said to her
friend. “He got a little crazy after college, but heck, most of us
do. Did he say anything before you guys got it on?”
“No.” Molly was miserably aware of having failed the
smart modern girl requirement of finding out what a guy wanted,
exactly, before ripping his clothes off. “He—he and I kissed and
everything started like a flash fire. We didn’t talk much, if you
get my drift.”
“Drift gotten,” her friend said with a grin.
“What about afterwards?”
Shaking her head, Molly said, “Afterward was just
bad. We didn’t know what to say to one another. We walked to the
parking lot and both drove away. I haven’t talked with him since
and it’s been several days. To be honest, Abby, I don’t know what
to say.”
They slowly walked toward Abby’s car.
“Tell him you liked it a lot? Say you’d like to do it
again real soon and, oh, by the way, what does he think this is? I
think those would be good things to start with.”
Molly turned her head to look at her friend. “I’m
afraid, Abby. You know how I feel about Drake. What if I was just
an itch he wanted to scratch? What if he’s just stringing me along
so I’ll keep feeding him material for his blog? His life is so
messed up right now—and I’m in the middle of this crazy Easter
Picnic job—that this…thing between us doesn’t make sense, at
all.”
They stopped when they reached the asphalt.
“Look.” Her friend put an encouraging hand on her
arm. “You need to talk with Drake. He might not give a crap about
the blog anymore. You don’t know. After all, he hasn’t contacted
you, asking for more help, has he? Maybe he’s finding his
feet.”
“I hope so,” she said, trying not to sound as
miserable as she felt.
* * *
“Okay,” Mike
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