After what happened last night, after Giles nearly bringing me to orgasm while entirely clothed, I'm forced to admit I can't keep holding onto this dynamite stick and calling it a candle.
But it's Friday night and I haven't been able to talk to Lex until now that my shift is over. I head back to her office, where we usually share a drink and decompress from the workday, and I tell her everything. Once I start talking, I can't stop, it all tumbles out of my lips, thought after thought.
She watches me in bemused shock, hanging on to every detail. Those details even surprise me, how I describe nights with Giles and how close we've gotten. What it does to me, how crazy it makes me, how good it feels to be around him. The things he says, the things I'm dying to confess. The things we don't do, and the things I wish we did.
"I don't get it," Lex says. "It's obvious you both want something more. What are you so afraid of? And don't give me that bullshit about not wanting to ruin the friendship. You two have crossed the point of no return, but you're just standing on the other side and pretending you haven't."
I rub the space between my brows, already feeling the nerves and anxiousness at the thought of what I want to do.
"All right, I'm nervous. I know I'm not a virgin anymore, but I still feel like I am, sometimes. He's so experienced, Lex. I've only ever had sex once, and that was a joke. An embarrassing, awkward, awful joke. What if I'm terrible at it? What if he realizes we don't gel that way and then everything's ruined?"
Lex laughs. It's not like her to laugh at me when I'm obviously distressed, but her laughter makes me realize how ridiculous I sound. I shut my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Look, you're nervous. It's understandable. Your one and only experience with sex is the type of nightmare story they tell in health class to keep kids abstinent. Except you didn't get an STD and die, though that would've probably been less embarrassing than what happened to you."
"What am I supposed to do? How do I move forward with this?"
"Are you on birth control?" she asks, her tone soft and motherly.
I run a finger over the skin just below where my sleeve ends, where I can feel the tiny lump. "I am. But it's just this weird thing inside my arm, reminding me that if I have sex, everyone I know might get an email with attached footage."
"Can we be serious for a minute?"
"Okay..."
"You need to get condoms."
"He has them, I'm sure--"
"No," Lex cuts in. "Don't just assume that. You need to keep them in your purse and to take them with you everywhere you go. You never know when...the opportunity might strike."
"Fine," I say, "I'll get them and I'll keep them in my purse. Then I'll...what, show up in his bed, naked, and wait for him to make a move? What if this isn't what he wants?"
"Trust me, it's what he wants."
"What if..." I trail off at the sight of Lex leaning back in her seat, shaking her head.
"It's like you're scared of being the one to make the decision," she observes. "Don't ask for permission to go after what you want. You don't need it. Not from anyone."
"Good thing I'm shaved," I blurt out.
Lex throws her head back and laughs at me. When she gathers herself again, she asks, "Are you going to do it tonight?"
"Probably not. We're having a party at our house--oh, hey, you should come."
"House parties are just not my scene."
"I forget, you're twenty-something going on fifty-something." She responds with a half-shrug and I go on, "Anyway, my point is... chances are we'll both be drinking and that's not how I want it to happen."
She nods her agreement. "A drunk lover is a sloppy lover. You don't want two disastrous sex experiences in a row."
I groan and sink in my chair. "No pressure, right?"
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Giles
I'M NOT IN THE MOOD to have all these people in my house tonight. Ava got carried away with the invites this time. It's not just our core group of friends and a few stragglers. There are dozens of people I don't recognize here. I wouldn't mind it so much if there weren't a disproportionally large number of guys.
Drunk, horny, college guys with easy smiles and nonexistent concepts of personal space. And watching how social Julia is with them? How comfortable and unassuming she seems around these strangers? It's all making my jaw clench so tightly my head's starting to hurt.
Since she got home from work, the few times I've talked to her she's seemed nervous and distracted, barely able to meet my eyes.
I've tried to give her space, knowing her well enough to know she won't be cornered. I'm not a patient person. I don't like waiting. But for her? I've waited longer than I've ever thought possible. And I'd wait longer if that's what she needed.
My friends all know Julia's off limits. But I'm not an idiot. I know I've left the situation open for any other random guy to come in and try to seduce her.
Just thinking about how turned on she got me last night, how much pent up sexual energy I've gathered over the past two months, leaves me even more uneasy. Because I know, it's the same for her. I know she has to be just as turned on, with just as big of a craving she's dying to satiate.
It's impossible for me to enjoy myself tonight. I brush off anyone who tries to talk to me, unable to focus on anything but Julia. Unable to stop from keeping tabs on whom she's talking to. I'm giving her space but making sure none of these assholes so much as touches her hand.
I know I have no right to act so possessive over her, but I don't care. I'm a selfish son of a bitch. Especially when it comes to her. I want her for myself. I want to be the one that makes her laugh. I want to be the one she gets in bed with and writhes under all night. I want her sexy little voice moaning my name and no one else's.
The worst part is knowing that, despite all the time we've spent together, she's not really mine. Knowing she's free to choose, to decide. Free to have sex with whomever she wants.
My composure barely lasts an hour. I've had enough of spying that sly asshole getting too close to her face, using the loud music as an excuse to talk into her ear. I doubt she even realizes it, they are surrounded by a group of our friends and she doesn't look like she's encouraging him. Still, he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who needs much encouragement.
I walk over to the kitchen area where she stands surrounded by people and slide my hand over her lower back, tugging her toward my side. "Hey, do you have a minute?"
She looks at me, surprised and slightly wide-eyed at my possessive gesture. But that's not what catches my attention. There's nervousness in her eyes that I spotted earlier in the night. It's still there and I don't like it.
I guide her away from the group, one hand clutching the water bottle I've been sipping and the other on her back. As we slow to a stop by the archway to the hall, I realize I have no idea what I'm going to say to her.