I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m just disappointed. Disappointed that he doesn’t feel the same as I do. That I’ve let my hopes get wrapped into the pleasure we’ve just shared.
If he really knew everything. About me. About how I felt about him. He wouldn’t have stayed. I was sure of it. I school my features and smile my most practiced alluring smile.
“That’s up to you Mr. Army. I got what I needed, but I won’t turn down a round two if you’re offering.” I’m disgusted at my own words, they’re in direct contrast to the feelings bouncing around inside, but I refuse to give him any more than I already have tonight. He doesn’t want to talk about feelings anyway. He just wanted to fuck.
His face is unreadable as he leans forward and gives my lips one last tender and soft kiss. He pulls back and tries to meet my eyes. I turn my face, choosing to study the thread count of the sheets instead. I have a well-practiced facade, but I feel entirely too vulnerable in this moment. I can’t handle his scrutiny.
“Okay, I should probably go then. Thank you, Kate.” Jon speaks in a low tone and rolls off the bed to stand. He dresses swiftly.
I stand, pulling my short satin robe from the bedside on over my lingerie, wrapping the tie around my waist in a loose knot. I glance at Jon to find him staring. I can’t help but blush. He stalks towards me until mere inches separate our bodies. I strain my neck to meet his gaze.
He looks into my eyes before dropping his gaze to my lips. He doesn’t move to kiss me which confuses me. His expression unreadable and penetrating. We stand like this for what feels likes minutes, though it’s probably only seconds.
“We should probably talk about what happened tonight.” He finally speaks.
“We fucked. There we talked about it.” He runs his hands over his head.
“You know what I mean Kate. This is going to affect our friendship. Are we going to keep this private or tell other people we slept together?” I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, I get it. I just don’t see how this changes anything since we aren’t best buddies to begin with and I don’t know why the hell we would tell anyone about this. Unless you are meaning Evie.”
“Well she is a close friend to both of us.”
“Oh, god. Did you fuck me to make her jealous?” I feel sick to my stomach.
“What? No!” He scowls and shakes his head.
“I swear to God Jon if you lie to me right now I will cut off your balls before you leave this apartment. Was this just to make her jealous?” Hands clenched at my sides my body shakes with anger.
“No. Although if you want a man to tell the truth it helps to not threaten his genitals, just saying.” He grins. “Look, I just want to make sure things won’t be weird the next time we all hang out together. I don’t think it’s anyone’s damn business what two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own home. I only want to make sure that’s what you want.”
“Okay good.” I cross my arms around my waist.
“Good.” He leans down so that our foreheads touch and lightly skims his fingers over the satin of my robe. His scent stirs desire low in my belly. I inhale, committing to memory the smell of sex and sweat and something else that is uniquely Jon. “This doesn’t change anything. I am sure we will be back to irritating the hell out of each other tomorrow, but I had fun tonight, Kate. Lots of fun.”
He rocks back on his heels, releasing me from his hold and walks to the door. I follow behind. I bite back the urge to tell him not to go and beg him to stay the night. The fact that I even want to say those things scares me enough to keep my mouth shut.
I was never able to think rationally when it came to Jon. My want for him has always clouded my judgment. Tonight was a mistake, I’m sure of it. If things were different maybe we could have something together, but it would never work. And I don’t deserve him. Jon opens the door and turns to wave, calling out, “good night,” in the hallway before stepping into the elevator. I shut and lock my door.
My control slips and I practically run to my yoga mat. I ceremoniously roll the foam sheet onto the hardwood floor, already feeling my soul grounding. A few breaths into my flow and I’m once again centered. Being with Jon tonight unsettles the foundation of my heavily guarded heart. I take the experience and shelve it to a place deep inside myself and vow to not visit often.
With quiet acceptance of the night I understand I’m not meant to have him. I’ll move forward without fixating on the disappointment. My practice drives all thoughts from my head as I connect to my breath. I don’t know how long I’m on my mat but by the time I finish I’m exhausted, physically and mentally. Sleep comes easily as my head meets the pillow.
CHICKEN SHIT. I’M BEING A total chicken shit.
It’s been thirteen days since Kate Bryant rocked my world. She was incredible in bed and I couldn’t get the damn woman out of my thoughts. Like a fucking coward I’d been successfully avoiding any direct contact with her. It was easier this way. I could avoid my feelings.
Today I have to face the music because Evie’s arranged an informal dinner in our apartment. She asked me to cook, thank God, because while Evie’s great at many things, preparing food is not one of them. I agreed, not wanting to seem weird or act different than I normally would, but inside I wanted to shout a resounding no.
Being stuck across the table from Kate and her infuriating and sensuous mouth for the next two hours seems cruel and unnecessary punishment. Especially since at the end of the evening I’ll be subjected to Evie and her boyfriend Tate stealing hot glances back and forth until I go to bed alone.
I’d rather go to bed with Kate.
Yep, that’s a problem. I can’t drive the images of our one night stand from my mind. The mere act of washing my hands invokes graphic illustrations of skin on skin, wet, needing, wanting. Damn it. There are so many ways I’d like to have her. And with a body like Kate’s my mind conjures endless possibilities.
Focus. I need to focus. Back to chopping veggies, I toss it all together for the Asian salad and everything’s prepared. The brown rice is steaming, and teriyaki chicken and steak skewers baking in the oven. At least the food will be good.
The doorbell rings and I know it’s Tate because Kate never uses the bell. She still has a key from when Evie lived here solo and would let herself in whenever she wanted. Evie jogs down the hall in a pair of bright green shorts and a black tank. “Coming!” she shouts, throwing open the locks. She swings the door open revealing a smiling Tate Reynolds.
Jumping into his arms, he catches her with a big hug. Tate’s the same height as I am, just over six feet tall with a strong muscular physique due to his full-time career as a personal trainer and fitness instructor at a local gym. He has tattoos all over his chest and upper arms. Whereas Tate’s hard and lean, Evie’s soft and luscious. She’s beautiful at five foot seven with her curvy figure and long super straight brown hair. Their opposites complement the other. He makes her happy and in turn I’ve conceded my feelings toward Evie.
There was a time a few months ago that I’d hoped she would want to begin a romantic relationship with me. Watching them together enlightens that Evie and Tate are meant to be. I’m only a little jealous because I hope to find that for myself one day.
The happy couple enters the kitchen holding hands. “Hey man, how’s it going?” I offer Tate a greeting.
“No complaints here. Life is good. Dinner smells good, man. Thanks for cooking and having me over.” Tate takes a seat at the small kitchen table. Evie busies herself in the kitchen, grabbing plates and silverware to set the small dining table.
“Yeah, no problem. I’m glad you have a night off to spend with us.” A rarity since Tate works evenings and helps his sister out with her boys during much of his free time.