Shaking my head, I wonder who’s talking. When have I ever been into monologues? Only, she doesn’t look convinced.
“Sam, you’re beautiful. God, you’re beautiful. But that’s not all that attracts me to you. Your spark, that you don’t put up with my shit, you’re independent and not needy. I’m not going to lie and be totally altruistic—I fucking love your body, especially your tits. But you are more than that.”
“Thanks for noticing.” She gives me a sad smile. “You had to know who she was. What made you walk away when you did?”
I have no fucking clue why she’s zeroing in on Karen. This has to do with looks and her tits, but I still can’t piece it together.
“You think I left because she had fake tits?”
She shakes her head. “No, but why did you finally leave?”
“I didn’t leave because I was never hers,” I snap, suddenly angry that I seem to be defending that Karen and I weren’t together. “She was never mine.” I pause taking a deep breath. Just tell her, Ben, I think to myself. “She wanted me to go with her to visit her aunt in the hospital. And I didn’t see why I should go.”
Her forehead crinkles. “That doesn’t seem like the Ben I know.”
“What? I felt bad the woman was sick, but I had nothing to offer. Karen and I didn’t have a future together. There wasn’t a reason for me to confuse a bad situation by getting the awkward questions about a relationship that didn’t exist.”
“Bad situation?”
And here it is. She’s going to think I’m a jerk.
“Her aunt had cancer.” I run a hand through my hair. “But even if she didn’t, I still wouldn’t have gone. But that cancer shit scares the hell out of me, Sam. I’m not going to lie. I can’t do that again. I had to smile while watching my best friend die because he didn’t need to carry my pain when he had his own. And I won’t do that again.”
That last part comes out a little more bitter than I mean. I shake my head getting to my feet. I need a drink and head to find the bottle of Lagavulin.
Sam is right behind me. She places a hand on my back and her warmth seeps into me.
“Ben, I’m sorry.”
I turn to face her. “No, I’m sorry.” I sigh. “It’s just I can’t seem to get the fucker out of my head. I miss him like crazy and I should be over this. I bet you feel like I’ve said it a thousand times.”
She shakes her head, cradling my face. “Who says you should be over this? There isn’t a timestamp on grief. Say it as many times as you need to.”
I glance up, but she hangs on, bringing my head down to meet her gaze. There is a fire in her eyes that melts all my resistance. Words explode from my chest giving me the freedom to breathe.
“It’s been over a year and I feel like a fucking pussy for needing him. But since we became friends, he was there almost every day of my life until he went to medical school. And even then, we talked a lot. When he moved back, I practically lived in his house the last few months of his life. And now nothing. He’s gone and everyone assumes that I should just be able to go on like he never fucking existed. But I can’t and I certainly will never willingly put myself in a position to watch someone die again. Once is more than enough for a lifetime.”
The air I suck in manages to hold the burn in the back of my eyes from spilling over.
“It’s okay.”
And this is part of the reason why I’m falling for her. She pulls me close to cover my mouth with hers. Somehow she knows enough words have been said. I have to be close to her in a way I’ve never been close to another human being.
“I need you like crazy, Sam.”
She nods, taking my mouth again and smothering my words with heat. Her hands pull my shirt from my pants and it’s as if she’s close to orgasm the way she claws at my clothes. She leans up with a glint in her eye. I have no idea what’s she’s about to do.
She splits the fabric of my shirt, sending buttons airborne, and fuck, if I’m not turned on faster than a Porsche 911 turbo engine.
“Want to play that game?” I ask.
The smile she flashes me lights up the room. Clothes are taken off with no care to their destruction. Soon, we’re standing in front of each other naked, like two bulls ready to lock horns. She makes the first move taking a flying leap at me. Only I take it one step further. When she tries to lock her legs around my back, I shake my head and lift her higher.
“Hook your legs over my shoulders. I want to eat that amazing pussy of yours.”
As I hike her up by her spec-fucking-tacular ass, she wiggles and works her way into position as we stand in the middle of my living room. I bury my head in between her legs. There is an art to eating pussy. And as much as I like her where she is, I need more use of my hands without fear of her falling down.
Good thing I know my house. I take several side steps until my leg hits the edge of the sofa. I carefully sit and Sam pulls free. I take advantage of the moment and lie back.