I awoke to the smell of coffee. It wasn’t quite as alluring as the bacon had been the last time I’d woken in Brett’s bed, but I was still smiling when I opened my eyes.
My smile widened when I realized the coffee was already waiting for me in a mug on the nightstand. In my favorite mug, too. It said “Queen of Fucking Everything” with gold crowns. Brett had received it once in a gift exchange at the office, and when he’d tried to pawn it off on me, I’d suggested he keep it at his house for when I slept over.
When I’d also joked that it might scare any one-night stands into thinking he was already taken, he’d agreed.
I hadn’t considered then why he might want women to think he was off the market. Had he been essentially waiting for me all this time?
Then why had he rejected me after our first night together?
Not that it mattered now.
I stretched, and the radiance that had prompted the smile spread through my limbs like liquid sunshine running through my veins. I didn’t even care how sore my body felt. Every creak of my bones was worth it.
“Was I too hard on you?”
I looked toward the voice and found Brett sitting on the bench by his window, one leg stretched out in front of him as he watched me. He was dressed—unfortunately—in jogging shorts and a pullover, and even though I’d now seen the glory of him naked, I couldn’t help ogling the thick muscles of his thighs.
“Should I be worried that you have to think about the answer?”
I blinked, realizing I hadn’t responded. “You weren’t too hard on me. Sorry, I got distracted by the view.”
He turned to glance out the window behind him, as though that was the view I was talking about. “It’s a nice day. Not too hot. I can run outside instead of on the treadmill.”
After last night’s acrobatics, I wasn’t sure he needed more exercise at all. I considered offering an alternative cardio workout, but there was something guarded about the energy between us. That glass wall was back, and as much as I wanted to press against it, I wasn’t sure that was the best move.
But maybe I could find a door if I just kept looking. “I could get dressed and join you. I doubt I have shorts here, but I could find something. I’ll even let you make fun of my form.”
“I uh, prefer the time in my head.”
Honestly, I probably couldn’t keep up with him anyway.
That was what I should have said, or I should have left it alone entirely and pretended not to be bothered that he didn’t want to be with me, but of course that wasn’t my style, no matter how much I wished it was. “Because of last night?” I asked, like I was asking to have my heart punched.
He ran his palms down his bare thighs, an action that brought memories flooding from the middle of the night when he’d woken me up with his cock already sheathed, slipping into me from behind. His hand had snaked around me, and he’d stroked my leg then swept up to massage my pussy before another trip down my thigh.
His touch was so arousing, whether he was touching my clit or my knee, and watching his hands give his own legs the same attention did funny things to my insides.
I forced my head from the thoughts when he spoke. “There are some things from last night that bear reflection.”
We were in total agreement there. And all the parts that were pushing for a replay in my head had my thighs rubbing together. If he felt anything like I did, why the hell would he want to be alone? “Do you regret it? I swear you weren’t too hard on me. I loved all of it.”
“I do not regret the sex.” Finally, he showed a hint of a grin, but it quickly retreated.
“If not the sex…?”
His eyes were gravely serious. “We said a bunch of things—”
“Things we meant,” I interjected, because there was no way I was letting him take back what he’d said. “Don’t try to say we didn’t.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“Weren’t you?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“Then you do…” I wasn’t brave enough to repeat the word he’d said the night before. “Have feelings for me?”
He cocked his head in a scolding manner. “I think we’re past the pretense, don’t you?”
Yes, but panic was bubbling up inside me, and I was desperate for validation that this morning wasn’t turning into a repeat of last time. If he admitted he loved me, then it couldn’t be. There wouldn’t be a reason.
Except...
I studied him, realizing what exactly he had been meaning to say. Or imply, rather, because even after how close we’d gotten, how honest we’d been, the guy was too nice to say something that might be directly hurtful.
I pulled the sheet up over my breasts, needing to feel less vulnerable. “It’s me you don’t trust. You don’t think I meant what I said.”
A beat passed where he said nothing, which said all I needed it to.
Okay. Okay. I could work with this. I’d thought it might be this. I moved to my knees, the sheet still wrapped around me. “I did mean it. I do. I can’t tell you how much I do.”
He raised his brows incredulously.
“Why is that so hard to believe? Because of Scott? I’m telling you, that’s over. That was nothing.” I growled in frustration because I heard myself. I’d mooned over his cousin for as long as I’d worked at SIC, which had been over a year now. “I get how it sounds. But this is different. You’re different for me. We already have so much between us.”
“Which makes us easy,” he said.
“Easy?” Some of it. Right now was anything but easy, but the good parts had been extremely easy. “What’s wrong with easy?”
“Nothing is wrong with easy, it’s just…”
“It’s just...what?”
He brought his outstretched leg in, his body now tense. “Why now, Edie? Why all of a sudden?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve known each other for ten years. You’ve never given any indication that you had any feelings before now. What happened?”
I was pretty sure I knew what he was insinuating. “It’s not just because Scott had pushed me away. He’s always pushing me away.”
“So then what happened this time?”
“Nothing happened. I just...I don’t know.” Did there have to be a reason?
“Because of a night of good sex?”
“It was really good sex.” It fell flat, and I realized too late it probably wasn’t a good time for joking. “I don’t know! I figured it out, I guess.”
“Because I told you I met someone?”
“Is this about Tess? Is that why you’re having doubts about us?” My stomach knotted at the possibility that he really liked her. Liked her enough to end the possibility of anything with me.
But he threw his head back in frustration, which seemed to indicate that was a no, and I had the distinct feeling he wanted to strangle me, and not in the good way he’d strangled me the night before.
Well, there’d been undertones of anger then too. “Are you mad at me for not realizing sooner?” I scooted forward without thinking about it, wanting to be closer to him figuratively, my body trying to achieve it with literal nearness. “I wish I had, Brett. I just didn’t. Don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not—” He cut himself off and sighed. “I’m not mad at you, okay?”
“Okay.” But he still was on the other side of the room, and it felt like it wasn’t just a glass wall between us now, but also a very large chasm with no bridge.
And I didn’t understand that. Because he’d basically said he’d loved me, and I’d basically said I’d loved him. “So what’s the but?”
“But I need to think. I need to clear my head and really think.”
“About what?” It came out unintentionally sharp, but I was baffled. What was there to think about?
“About us. About if we make sense.”
If we make sense.
There was something both promising and piercing about that statement. He hadn’t shut the possibility of us down entirely, and that felt monumental.
But the possibility that we might not make sense cut deep. And why was there even a possibility that we didn’t? We’d been best friends for ten years. We obviously had amazing chemistry. We had feelings for each other. What the fuck didn’t make sense?
Except I knew what might not make sense—me. Chasing after a playboy Sebastian was one thing. Asking a decent, incredible man—the most decent and incredible human I knew—to consider me as a partner was a different thing altogether.
Not that we were talking about marriage here.
But wasn’t that what dating was supposed to be about? Brett didn’t date, in general. He hadn’t had many real girlfriends since I’d known him, and the ones he had been with had been perfectly suited for him. It was obvious he took his choice in girlfriends seriously, as well as the decision to have one in the first place.
And if he had to think about us, it seemed reasonable that he had to think about whether I fit with him like that. Whether or not I was good enough to be given the label of love interest.
It was possible I was overthinking. I did that.
Still, I was desperate enough to make concessions. We don’t have to be anything official. We don’t even have to tell anyone. We can take it day-by-day.
That was pretty much the recipe for most of my relationships. Seemed likely it was all I was good for.
I’d said those words to Brett so many times when I’d cried on his shoulder. It’s all I’m good for. He’d always refuted it. Cheered me up and cheered me on. Assured me I was worth more than those assholes who made me feel that way. Sometimes he even made me believe it.
Of course, he was worth more than all those assholes combined, including Scott.
And I wasn’t going to make him have to explain that to me. He’d hate himself if he had to say out loud that I wasn’t worthy of him. It was enough that he was considering me at all.
“Okay,” I said, swallowing first so the word would get past the lump in my throat. “How much time do you need?”
“A week maybe. I don’t know.”
“Okay. Sure.” I forced a smile.
“Thank you.” His expression was regretful, and I hated making him feel like he owed me something almost as much as I hated that he couldn’t just be mine. “I’m going to go on my run now. I have some work I have to do when I get back.”
He stood up. The subtext of the lingering look he gave me was clear, and if I was a bigger person, I would have told him that I’d be gone before he came back.
But I wasn’t a bigger person. I was a woman that had to be considered. So I made him say it. “I could really use a quiet apartment to get it done.”
There was nothing else I could say beyond, “See you tomorrow.”