The thought of not kissing him ever again makes my stomach sink.
My phone vibrates. I glance to see who’s texting me. It’s Darlene, an undergrad buddy whom I occasionally hang out with. I dry off my hand and grab my phone.
What’s up, lady? Long time, no hear. I know it’s last minute, but want to get a drink 2nite? If not, let’s meet up soon, k?
It’s sweet of her to ask, but I don’t want to leave the house. I’m not very good company right now. Feeling too emotional and ridiculous, and I’m sure I’d be no fun at all, dumping all this shit on her shoulders when all she wanted to do was scope hot guys in the bar and throw back a couple of cocktails. Not to mention I planned on early bedtime so I could arrive in the office ready to work tomorrow.
Rain check this time, but yes, let’s hang!! Next week maybe? I hit send, then plop the phone back on the table.
Out of nowhere, it strikes me then—I’m making a lot of assumptions about how Cole feels toward me but not asking him about it. Just skirting the issue, trying to uncover the depth of his feelings without outright saying, “What is this thing happening between us? And what do you want it to be?”
Okay, if I’m honest, I know the reason why I’m doing it this way. It’s easier to stay in the murky middle ground of not defining who or what we are if I don’t ask him. Easier to justify things in regards to my sister, as well.
God, I suck. I need to put on my big-girl panties and deal with this shit sometime—talking with Cole, yes, but first with Christina. It can’t keep going like this, straddling the line and hoping I won’t fall off. Because I’m totally going to crash hard; I feel it coming like that eerie crackle in the air before a storm.
That’s it. I’m going to text her and ask if we can hang out this coming Sunday, maybe do lunch. We’ll get it out in the open once and for all. That buys me a few days to figure out how the hell I’m going to tell her I had sex with the guy she’s crushing on, in a way that won’t drive her away from me for good.
It would kill me to lose her again, especially if it was something I could have prevented. But was this really preventable? My first encounter with Cole was before I even knew her feelings.
The devilish guilt in me whispers, that encounter last Friday night wasn’t though. I tried to resist him but I couldn’t. Yet I did resist temptation at the playground—nothing happened between us, not really. Just a tiny kiss. Surely that balances the scales, right?
My phone vibrates again. I dry my hand off, expecting a reply from Darlene, but see it’s Cole instead.
What are you up to?
I bite my lip. Before last week, I would have told him I was bathing, without pausing to consider it. Now I’m wondering if that’s too sexual an admission, if it will lead to us moving out of the friend zone in this conversation. I hate that I’m stressing over what to say to my best friend. This is stupid. It’s a bath. I’m not masturbating or anything.
I think about slipping my finger between my folds while Cole’s sexy voice whispers in my ear over the phone, and I feel myself growing wet. Shit. Nope, stop that right now, I order myself. That is decidedly unfriendly behavior.
Soaking away the day’s stress, I write. That’s generic enough without any sexual undertone. You?
A moment later the phone buzzes, and I peek over at the screen to see what he wrote. Making plans for this weekend. You busy Saturday? I have a fun idea for us.
I pause. It would be awesome to spend more time with Cole. Awesome and torturous at the same time. What’s the right thing to do? Should I wait to see him until after I’ve sorted it out with Christina?
I let the phone sit on the table for minutes as I debate what I should do. I lather soap on my skin, trying to not remember his fingers curling inside my walls, stroking me until I came all over his hand. His tongue flicking and gliding on my nipples. God, why does he have to be so damn sexy and compelling?
Why did my perception of him change? Would this have happened if he didn’t move back to Boston? If Emme didn’t point out how hot he is? I guess there’s no reason to play the what-if game. It is what it is.
I’m devastatingly attracted to Cole. I can’t deny that.
I rinse my hand, dry it off. My fingers shake a little as I text, I don’t know. I’ll get back to you. I just need more time to figure out what to do. And I know he’s going to see right through that text and figure out I’m running from him. But what else can I do?
My phone buzzes again. I’m a little nervous to glance at the screen. But it’s Darlene, replying to my message.
No prob! Let’s talk soon. We’ll make dinner plans that aren’t last minute. ;-)
I shoot back a smiley face and then focus on enjoying my bath.