either. Maybe I might have, if I’d met this alleged former you,
back in your old life. But I think you’re perfectly nice. Just a bit . . . bristly.”
He seemed to blush at that, though it was hard to tell by the jittery glow of the
fire. Still, he held her gaze for a long breath, a willing connection she doubted
he’d have offered the day before. He turned away, thumping the spent leaves into the
plastic tub and adding fresh ones. Stooping, he handed Merry the steaming mug.
“Thanks.”
After getting his own cup started, Rob joined her again, sitting a bit closer, though
still with a couple feet separating their hips. He set his mug between his ankles,
stirring slowly. His expression was calm, perhaps melancholy.
Merry’s heart felt full and swollen, none of this man’s confessions having done a
thing to lessen her attraction. If anything, Rob’s discomfort over his alleged failings
was strangely endearing. If he was indeed an asshole, he wasn’t oblivious or self-righteous
about that fact. Some dark magnetism hid behind those stony eyes, a force that made
Merry yearn to move closer, to get invited deep inside his private thoughts.
To invite him deep inside her in return, in far baser ways.
“Do you miss . . . you know.” She trailed off, wussing out.
“Miss what?”
“Women, I guess? Romance? Or . . .”
Sex.
She couldn’t quite bring herself to drop that boulder between them. “Just that kind
of contact. That connection.”
“I don’t know.” He studied his mug.
“Don’t you?”
“I hadn’t thought much about it. Like I said, my brain’s sort of a blank out here.”
Have you thought about
sex
, in two years?
Surely a man would be going crazy from the deprivation by now. Or perhaps sex was
complicated for Rob, tied up in whatever shame he seemed to feel in regard to that
final relationship.
Then Merry thought about bad things, about Rob in his lonely little cottage, in that
bed where she’d slept and woken. Just Rob, alone, with only his hand for comfort.
Who did he think of? Was there any slim chance he might think of
her
in those moments, after she was gone? Or had Rob shed his lust right alongside the
trappings of a normal life?
Merry sipped her tea, heat slipping inside to warm her belly. She imagined a far less
appropriate sensation, of the heat of a man’s body as it claimed hers.
“I sort of wrote off romance, too,” she told him.
“Oh?”
“I got dumped earlier this year. Well, I wasn’t quite dumped, since we weren’t a couple
or anything.”
“That’s a shame.”
She shrugged. “He was kind of a jerk, and I always knew it, in the back of my mind.
He never introduced me to his friends or asked to meet mine. Just called me up when . . .
you know. And it was so pathetic that I was okay with it, for so long. Except, well . . .
the sex was really great.”
There, good. Introduce sex without overtly demanding to know Rob’s feelings about
it. Smooth.
In truth, the sex hadn’t been all that amazing, but Jason had been out-of-her-league
hot, so she’d rounded it up. “But then I started going through these positive changes,
and I thought, maybe he’ll want to get serious, now that I’m getting my shit together.
Then, out of the blue—nothing but crickets.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I feel like an idiot, looking back. Like, why did I ever waste my time with some
guy who thought I was good enough to hook up with, but not good enough to meet his
friends? Then the second I start having any kind of boundaries or self-esteem, he
cuts me off? Doesn’t even have the balls to come out and say we’re over?” She shook
her head.
“He sounds like a coward.”
“
I
probably sound like a moron.”
Rob’s smile was skittish, telling her he wasn’t used to these sorts of conversations.
“We’ve all done stupid things for sex,” he offered.
Even you? Tell me. Tell me everything.
“I guess.
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