don’t have a relationship.” I was really just repeating her. No question. No argument. It was the only way I knew how to avoid either.
“Yeah. We’re just...friends.”
I nodded. “Friends. Who just happen to garden together.”
“Exactly. Really, really impressive gardening skills by the way.” Her hand reached up to pat my chest. It was ironic really, to be friend zoned while I was standing there naked, my dick still within inches of her.
“Well, friend. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. And I’m just guessing, but Aunt Deb probably won’t let us sit down at the dinner table looking like this.”
She shook her head, laughing. Then she closed both arms around my neck and repositioned her legs higher up enveloping my waist. “To the shower.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I was all too happy to oblige. Lifting her up from the counter, it took all of three steps before I lowered her back down and we were both standing in the tub. It was the first chance I’d gotten to really look at her. She was fucking spectacular.
I could feel my mouth stretch into the same ridiculous smirk it was taking on now every time my eyes lingered on her. Like the mere sight of her made me feel things that simply couldn’t be contained on the inside. I’d had a stone-cold poker face once upon a time. Clearly, that shit was now history.
Chapter Nine
M y legs were still shaking when I stepped out of the bathroom. I was pretty sure it was from the post sex adrenaline still surging through me at high speeds, but there was a small part of me, okay - it was getting increasingly bigger by the minute - part of me, that was scared I might be in the middle of a full blown anxiety attack and just hadn’t noticed it yet.
I could feel Derek walking behind me even though he was no longer touching me. Which, of course was what I had wanted. Touching post sex would imply that it had been more. That there would be more. And there couldn’t be. Not between us. Not while I had to deal with Travis and needed Derek to be my stand-in husband. Maybe if my track record with men had proven to be more successful, I would have been open to the idea of enjoying the possibility of a budding romance in correlation to the fake relationship we were building, but the past had proven time and again that I couldn’t keep a man.
And I couldn’t even blame the guys. I was pretty sure it was mostly me. I was bossy, independent, snarky and even mean, prone to crushing male egos without even noticing while rarely apologizing after. It was never intentional. I just hadn’t ever been particularly tactful or charming.
I came from a family where a battle of insults was considered the highest form of affection. A solid dose of genuine sarcasm was about as close as you could get to an ‘I love you’ and generally speaking, bullshit was taught to be called out, not practiced. The Kelleys didn’t pussyfoot around people.
Somehow Bobby had fared better with our upbringing than I had. He could blatantly insult people to their faces and they would respond by laughing hysterically, even after he assured them he wasn’t kidding.
Girls were even more responsive. One of Bobby’s most successful pick-up tactics was approaching the hottest girl he could find, tapping her on the shoulder, then making a face when she turned around and muttering a ‘never mind’ as he walked away. Those dumb bitches would follow him every fucking time. By the time they were done cursing him out, he was buying them a drink and sealing the deal.
Meanwhile, I’d been living with the reputation of being a bitch since freshman year in high school. Not that I minded. Those who knew me understood that beneath all of that cold, crass personality, I was hiding a pretty solid heart. There wasn’t much of anything I wouldn’t do for the people I loved. Only somehow, most guys didn’t seem to feel it was a particularly redeemable quality when I wasn’t able to stroke their tender egos
“Yeah. We’re just...friends.”
I nodded. “Friends. Who just happen to garden together.”
“Exactly. Really, really impressive gardening skills by the way.” Her hand reached up to pat my chest. It was ironic really, to be friend zoned while I was standing there naked, my dick still within inches of her.
“Well, friend. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. And I’m just guessing, but Aunt Deb probably won’t let us sit down at the dinner table looking like this.”
She shook her head, laughing. Then she closed both arms around my neck and repositioned her legs higher up enveloping my waist. “To the shower.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I was all too happy to oblige. Lifting her up from the counter, it took all of three steps before I lowered her back down and we were both standing in the tub. It was the first chance I’d gotten to really look at her. She was fucking spectacular.
I could feel my mouth stretch into the same ridiculous smirk it was taking on now every time my eyes lingered on her. Like the mere sight of her made me feel things that simply couldn’t be contained on the inside. I’d had a stone-cold poker face once upon a time. Clearly, that shit was now history.
Chapter Nine
M y legs were still shaking when I stepped out of the bathroom. I was pretty sure it was from the post sex adrenaline still surging through me at high speeds, but there was a small part of me, okay - it was getting increasingly bigger by the minute - part of me, that was scared I might be in the middle of a full blown anxiety attack and just hadn’t noticed it yet.
I could feel Derek walking behind me even though he was no longer touching me. Which, of course was what I had wanted. Touching post sex would imply that it had been more. That there would be more. And there couldn’t be. Not between us. Not while I had to deal with Travis and needed Derek to be my stand-in husband. Maybe if my track record with men had proven to be more successful, I would have been open to the idea of enjoying the possibility of a budding romance in correlation to the fake relationship we were building, but the past had proven time and again that I couldn’t keep a man.
And I couldn’t even blame the guys. I was pretty sure it was mostly me. I was bossy, independent, snarky and even mean, prone to crushing male egos without even noticing while rarely apologizing after. It was never intentional. I just hadn’t ever been particularly tactful or charming.
I came from a family where a battle of insults was considered the highest form of affection. A solid dose of genuine sarcasm was about as close as you could get to an ‘I love you’ and generally speaking, bullshit was taught to be called out, not practiced. The Kelleys didn’t pussyfoot around people.
Somehow Bobby had fared better with our upbringing than I had. He could blatantly insult people to their faces and they would respond by laughing hysterically, even after he assured them he wasn’t kidding.
Girls were even more responsive. One of Bobby’s most successful pick-up tactics was approaching the hottest girl he could find, tapping her on the shoulder, then making a face when she turned around and muttering a ‘never mind’ as he walked away. Those dumb bitches would follow him every fucking time. By the time they were done cursing him out, he was buying them a drink and sealing the deal.
Meanwhile, I’d been living with the reputation of being a bitch since freshman year in high school. Not that I minded. Those who knew me understood that beneath all of that cold, crass personality, I was hiding a pretty solid heart. There wasn’t much of anything I wouldn’t do for the people I loved. Only somehow, most guys didn’t seem to feel it was a particularly redeemable quality when I wasn’t able to stroke their tender egos
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