don’t have
casual sex.”
She sat up, the pleasure of the last
minutes draining from her body in a rush. Was he kidding? “Then what the hell
was that?” she demanded, with a gesture that might have meant the woods, the
walk, or whatever. “That seemed like sex to me.”
He shrugged, his cheeks reddening. “That
was just making you feel good. I wanted to do it. I don’t want to have sex.”
She glared pointedly at the noticeable
bulge at the front of his pants. “Um, I don’t think you’ve consulted your dick
about this decision. It seems to have a different opinion.”
“That’s why I don’t listen to it,” he said,
looking amused and miserable at the same time. “Look, no offense. I don’t have
casual sex. If I was going to have casual sex with anyone in the world, trust
me. It would be you.”
Was that supposed to be a compliment? She
should have expected that, she supposed. Shoving him away, she rose to her
feet. “That’s good to know that I’m your go-to choice for a meaningless screw.”
“Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Sounded like it.” She retrieved her bra
from the ground, shaking free a few dead leaves and shoving it in her pocket. What
a disaster. Humiliation heated her face. She should have known it would end
like this. Why had she let the jerk touch her? She stalked off, not caring if
he followed or not.
He did, his long stride easily keeping pace
with hers.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.
I have a principle at stake here. I don’t sleep with people outside of a
relationship.”
“I see. You’re morally above casual sex,
but it’s okay for me. Because sex couldn’t possibly mean anything to me.” Her
eyes burned, but she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing
her cry. Why should she be upset? She was shallow. She cared too much about things . She had casual sex sometimes. She
hadn’t hidden any of that from him. Why should she mind that he believed her?
Because sometimes, he seemed like maybe he
saw something in her that was deeper, more worthy, than what everybody else saw
in Carolyn Hart, the ex-cheerleader who’d peaked way too soon. Something she
didn’t even see in herself.
But, nope. He saw in her what the guys in
Short Dogs saw: A hot, not-too-bright piece of ass who would be fun for a
one-night stand but not anything else.
The only difference between those jerks and
Mason was that he thought himself too holy to indulge.
“Carolyn, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry,
sometimes I don’t say things the way I mean them. I mean, I say things I don’t
mean. Oh, to hell with it.” He ran one hand through his hair. “Look, can you
stop for a minute?” He put a hand on her arm and she stopped, whirling to face
him.
She crossed her arms. “What?”
He sighed. “I learned a long time ago that
when I have sex with a woman, I get attached. I know it’s not very manly or
whatever. Guys are supposed to be able to screw and run without ever looking
back, but I can’t. That’s the way I am and I can’t change. I don’t want to get
involved with you and start to have feelings for you. There was this girl. We
used to watch Game of Thrones together, and it was great, and then we had sex, and everything went to hell.”
He paused and looked at her, hopeless. “I just don’t want that to happen again.”
“It won’t. I don’t even like Game of Thrones .” She tilted her head to
one side and narrowed her eyes as if considering his words. “But I think I
understand now. If you were the kind
of guy to screw and run, I’d be an ideal girl for you. But since you’re not,
you want nothing to do with me.”
“You’re putting the worst possible
interpretation on everything I say. Be honest. Even you have to admit that we’re
not exactly relationship material. I’m a geek artist and you’re . . . not.” He
finished with a sigh.
He was right. She knew he was right. So why
did the assumption that her sexual
casual sex.”
She sat up, the pleasure of the last
minutes draining from her body in a rush. Was he kidding? “Then what the hell
was that?” she demanded, with a gesture that might have meant the woods, the
walk, or whatever. “That seemed like sex to me.”
He shrugged, his cheeks reddening. “That
was just making you feel good. I wanted to do it. I don’t want to have sex.”
She glared pointedly at the noticeable
bulge at the front of his pants. “Um, I don’t think you’ve consulted your dick
about this decision. It seems to have a different opinion.”
“That’s why I don’t listen to it,” he said,
looking amused and miserable at the same time. “Look, no offense. I don’t have
casual sex. If I was going to have casual sex with anyone in the world, trust
me. It would be you.”
Was that supposed to be a compliment? She
should have expected that, she supposed. Shoving him away, she rose to her
feet. “That’s good to know that I’m your go-to choice for a meaningless screw.”
“Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Sounded like it.” She retrieved her bra
from the ground, shaking free a few dead leaves and shoving it in her pocket. What
a disaster. Humiliation heated her face. She should have known it would end
like this. Why had she let the jerk touch her? She stalked off, not caring if
he followed or not.
He did, his long stride easily keeping pace
with hers.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.
I have a principle at stake here. I don’t sleep with people outside of a
relationship.”
“I see. You’re morally above casual sex,
but it’s okay for me. Because sex couldn’t possibly mean anything to me.” Her
eyes burned, but she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing
her cry. Why should she be upset? She was shallow. She cared too much about things . She had casual sex sometimes. She
hadn’t hidden any of that from him. Why should she mind that he believed her?
Because sometimes, he seemed like maybe he
saw something in her that was deeper, more worthy, than what everybody else saw
in Carolyn Hart, the ex-cheerleader who’d peaked way too soon. Something she
didn’t even see in herself.
But, nope. He saw in her what the guys in
Short Dogs saw: A hot, not-too-bright piece of ass who would be fun for a
one-night stand but not anything else.
The only difference between those jerks and
Mason was that he thought himself too holy to indulge.
“Carolyn, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry,
sometimes I don’t say things the way I mean them. I mean, I say things I don’t
mean. Oh, to hell with it.” He ran one hand through his hair. “Look, can you
stop for a minute?” He put a hand on her arm and she stopped, whirling to face
him.
She crossed her arms. “What?”
He sighed. “I learned a long time ago that
when I have sex with a woman, I get attached. I know it’s not very manly or
whatever. Guys are supposed to be able to screw and run without ever looking
back, but I can’t. That’s the way I am and I can’t change. I don’t want to get
involved with you and start to have feelings for you. There was this girl. We
used to watch Game of Thrones together, and it was great, and then we had sex, and everything went to hell.”
He paused and looked at her, hopeless. “I just don’t want that to happen again.”
“It won’t. I don’t even like Game of Thrones .” She tilted her head to
one side and narrowed her eyes as if considering his words. “But I think I
understand now. If you were the kind
of guy to screw and run, I’d be an ideal girl for you. But since you’re not,
you want nothing to do with me.”
“You’re putting the worst possible
interpretation on everything I say. Be honest. Even you have to admit that we’re
not exactly relationship material. I’m a geek artist and you’re . . . not.” He
finished with a sigh.
He was right. She knew he was right. So why
did the assumption that her sexual
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