His grin drops.
I look down at my lap, exhaling a deep breath. I should have stopped this as soon as the fun started to turn into feelings. But I didn’t, and now I’m sitting here, choking on my words because I don’t want to say them. I have to.
“You okay?” He reaches out, brushing my hair from my face.
I want to lean into that touch. I want to wrap myself around him and never let go. But if I keep doing this with him, he’s going to break my heart. Well, that’s already happening, but at least I have some control over this decision.
I beat down the desire to jump him, which I know now isn’t just because he’s super amazing at sex. We have a connection when we’re naked, and when we’re not. It’s more than orgasms; I’m falling in love with him.
And not just the unclothed parts of him; it’s his sense of humor, his sweetness, his generosity. It’s everything. But it’s only a matter of time before he does to me what he’s done to every other girl before. He’ll get freaked out and cut ties. I know it’s coming. We’re getting too close. It’s becoming too real. He has to feel it, too.
This road ends like one of those old Bugs Bunny cartoons: there’s a sheer cliff I’ll drop off of eventually. Only I won’t pop back up and brush away the dirt as if nothing happened. If I do this now, the fall won’t be as far.
As least that’s what I tell myself when I say, “I don’t think you should come inside.”
He spins his keys on the chain. “You wanna come back to my place instead?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, either.”
Randy frowns. “Why not?”
My throat feels tight, and my stomach starts to roll. The amazing dinner I ate feels like it wants to make another appearance. “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “What?”
“This.” I motion between us. “I don’t think it’s working.”
His shoulders tighten, and a half-smile appears. “You’re not enjoying the multiple orgasms anymore? I thought we were having fun.”
He’s hitting me with sarcasm, and for once I don’t dish it back. “We were.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I’ve caught him off guard. I’ve caught myself off guard, too. Only after I got the job did I truly realize I’ve been fooling myself. All I could think was how living in Chicago would mean more time with Randy. But not just in his bed—with friends, on dates, hanging out. All things that aren’t on the table. Or they aren’t supposed to be. I fiddle with my purse and give him back his words from the start of this thing we’ve been doing. “This isn’t just fun for me anymore, Randy.”
“I don’t get it.” He smoothes his hands down his thighs. “I thought you had a good time this week.”
“I did. I—” I take a deep breath. I don’t want to cry in front of him. I don’t want to be weak. He told me what this was. It’s not his fault I wasn’t honest with him before now. “That’s what this was supposed to be, right? Just fun. It feels like it’s getting too… serious. And I can’t—”
“Too serious?”
I wring my hands, unsure what to do with them. “I should’ve said something sooner.”
“What are you talking about?” He sounds irritated.
“I can’t move here and do this casual thing with you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not just about the sex for me anymore.”
“But I’m your rebound.” His confusion makes me sad.
“I can’t make the feelings go away, Randy.” I look at him—at his gorgeous face, at the panic and the anger—and I know I’m right. It was only a matter of time. At least I didn’t humiliate myself and tell him I’m in love with him outright.
“You were supposed to tell me if it was getting to be too much.” He runs his hand through his hair, his frustration obvious. “I don’t understand. You just got out of a seven-year relationship. This was supposed to be simple.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want things to change. Maybe we could see—”
He cuts me off before I can finish the sentence. “I can’t be your boyfriend, Lily. I almost screwed some chick because you couldn’t make a damn game.”
“But you didn’t. And that was—”
His anger is a wave rising. I don’t know if it’s directed at me or himself, but his words hit me like shattering glass. “The only reason I didn’t was because you showed up. I will fuck you over. Is that what you want?”
“No, Randy. That’s not what I want.”
He jams the key in the ignition and starts the truck. “Then I guess this is it.”
“I guess it is. I’d say we could still be friends, but I’m not so sure that would work out very well.” I leave off the rest, which would go something like this: because I’m in love with you, and I’ll pine over you and cry if I see you with another girl.
“Probably not.” He’s staring straight ahead.