“Smooth,” she purrs. “And here I was, thinking we were friends.”
I turn and there she stands—perfectly formed, pocketsize Kaya, with her rosebud mouth and devilish twinkle in her pale blue eyes. Damn. I’ve been hiding from her for weeks like a goddamn coward. What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s smoking hot. As far as I can tell, she’s very interested in seeing me naked, which is awesome because I find myself imagining what her nipples look like, how they’d feel in my mouth, at least three or four times a day. Don’t get me started on how much time I spend thinking about her pussy. I should be giving her exactly what she wants: my dick. And yet I can’t. It wouldn’t be even close to fair. My life is a fucking circus right now. To drag her into it would be shitty beyond measure.
“Hey. What’s up?” I rub the back of my neck, scanning the sea of people pressing in around us, trying to see Ben. If I can find him, I’ll be able to use him as an excuse—the old, I-gotta-go-take-care-of-my-friend bit. Kaya seems to have other ideas, though.
“Hmm. What’s up? Well, lately I’ve been worried about how complicated technology is getting, y’know?”
“I’m sorry?” Her weird response throws me off balance.
“Yeah, you know. Old people can’t work TV remotes anymore. People in their forties can’t figure out social media apps. Now it seems like guys in their mid-twenties don’t even know how to use their cell phones to reply to their text messages.”
Ahhh. That makes more sense. She’s pissed at me. “God, Kaya. I’m sorry. I’ve just been kinda tied up the past few weeks.”
“Literally or figuratively?” She reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls something out of it, the end of which goes straight into her mouth. A red vine. The girl seems to have a never-ending supply of the damned things.
“Figuatively,” I answer. “Of course not literally.”
“Okay, ‘cause, see, even when people are really busy they still find time to shoot other people a quick text message. It happens all the time. So I asked because I figured, Kaya, give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he actually was hog tied in someone’s basement, and he was only released from captivity earlier this afternoon.”
Ben’s nowhere to be seen. Fucking Ben. He’s probably bleeding profusely in the showers by now and I could really use an out. “It just didn’t seem fair,” I say. “I don’t have time for a relationship, Kaya. I like you, I do, but if we hooked up it would only be sex. And I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”
“Why?” She snaps some red vine off in between her teeth and chews, frowning up at me.
“Why what?”
“Why don’t you want to use me for sex? Am I repulsive or something?”
Oh god. How the fuck am I supposed to answer that without putting a foot wrong? “You’re beautiful. You know you are. You know I wanna fuck you. I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Looking around, Kaya laughs quietly down her nose. She doesn’t look hurt. In fact, she looks amused. “You can’t hurt me, sweetheart. You want to fuck me. I want to fuck you. We both want to use each other for sex. So we should.”
I just stare at her. Believe it or not, I’ve been in this position before. Girls have used this line on me in the past, given me the whole, ‘I don’t want anything from you story,’ and then two months down the line they’re trying to sleep over at your place every night and attempting to introduce you to their parents. It never ends well. When Kaya says it, though, I get the impression I’d be the one trying to sleep over at her place every night, attempting to talk her into meeting my parents. I guess there’s no real fear of that happening, since both my mother and father are long dead, but still… Kaya makes me feel like I’m not the one in control here, and I don’t fucking like it. It’s terrifying. I’ve never liked a girl enough to consider picturing where she might slot into my life on a permanent basis. I don’t think Kaya would slot into my life. I get the feeling everything would have to change to accommodate her, and that just can’t happen. It’s just not possible.