She was also drunk.
She had to be, throwing herself at me that way, saying those things. That wasn’t like her at all. Blindfold her? Tie her up? Jesus, I loved the thought that there might be a kinky side of Natalie to explore, but the circumstances here were too fraught with the wrong kind of tension. Until I was confident that she wasn’t coming after me just to spite her boyfriend, I wasn’t going to risk ruining our friendship over one night of hot sex. It was bad enough I said those things to her…although I’d meant them.
Fuck yes, I’d meant them. I wanted nothing more than to tease her, play with her, make her vulnerable for all the right reasons. I wanted to see her naked and needy beneath me, her skin slick with sweat, her legs open for me. I’d make her come with my tongue first, use my fingers inside her, and when she was drenched and panting and whispering my name, I’d slide into her, slowly at first, make her feel every inch of my hard—
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Again?
Adjusting myself so my erection wasn’t pinned painfully inside my jeans, I briefly considered going upstairs to jerk off before the coffee was done. It would only take a minute. But then I heard a few muffled sobs coming from the living room, and my chest caved a little. She needed me more than my dick did. Sorry, buddy. Usually I put you first, but not tonight.
I found some Motrin in a kitchen cabinet, poured a glass of water and then some coffee, and I put everything on a tray I saw lying on the counter. Feeling pleased with myself, I carried the tray into the living room, set it on the coffee table, and switched on a lamp.
She was curled in a ball on the couch, her shoes on the floor, one bare foot covering the other one. Her dress had ridden up, and I willed myself not to peek at her crotch.
OK, I peeked. She was wearing black lace panties. Fuck.
But her face was buried in her hands, and her whole body shook with sad, pitiful sobs.
“Hey. Come on. It’s not that bad.” I sat down next to her and put a hand on her back.
“Yes, it is,” she wept.
“Talk to me. What happened tonight?” I patted her as she kept crying, feeling a little awkward. Usually when a woman cries, I find any possible escape hatch, but I wanted to comfort Natalie, who had never been a crier, even as a kid. The only other time I’d ever seen her cry, in fact, was the night we said goodbye up here. Another near miss for us. Were we always destined to have this bad timing?
I reached for her arm and pulled her up to a sitting position, then gathered her close so her cheek rested on my chest. Immediately she brought her knees up toward her chin, tucking her little feet between my legs. Her arms were folded into her chest, and I wrapped my arms around her whole body, legs and all. The tears stopped, and her breathing slowed. I lowered my face to her hair and inhaled.
God, she smells delicious.
I tried not to think about tomorrow, when she’d go back to that fucker, and he’d be the one who got to hold her.
Eventually she pulled away from me, putting her feet on the floor. “I have to blow my nose. I’ll be right back,” she said, hiding her face from me as she hurried from the room.
I heard the bathroom door open and close, and she was gone for several minutes. For a moment, I worried she was sick from the alcohol, but she reappeared in the living room looking puffy-faced and pink-eyed, but otherwise OK.
I picked up the Motrin from the tray and held them out to her. “Here. Take these.”
“Thanks.” She dropped onto the couch and took the pills from me, then popped them in her mouth. After drinking the entire glass of water, she picked up the coffee cup and sipped.
“Better?”
“Yeah. The world is just a little topsy turvy right now. I’m a bit dizzy.”
“Been there. Want to get some air?”
She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Yes.”
We went out on the wraparound porch, and I pulled the front door shut behind us, making sure it was unlocked. To our right was a swing, which was probably not what she needed right now, and to our left were a few wooden chairs.
“Want to sit?” I gestured to the chairs, and she nodded. I sat next to her but didn’t say anything right away. I wondered what she wanted to hear—should I ask what happened? Should I just wait for her to spill? Should I apologize for turning her down? She understood why I had to, didn’t she?
Finally she spoke. “I’m sorry. This was such a bad idea.”
“It’s OK.”
“No, it’s not. I put you in a really bad position.”
I paused. “Actually you had me in some really nice positions.”
She slapped my wrist lightly, but she smiled a familiar smile, and I felt infinitely better. “You know what I mean.”
I nodded. “I do. And I will probably regret my decision for the rest of my life, especially if you get back together with the Douchebag tomorrow. I’m running out of chances with you.”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, tonight. And then…” I looked out across the orchard toward her parents’ house. “That night before I left for school. I wanted to—whatever, but I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you were with Dan, and even if we had—” I struggled to find words.
“Whatevered,” she supplied.
“Right. Even if we had whatevered, I felt like you’d have regretted it and our friendship would have suffered. And our friendship was important to me. So I forced myself to leave you alone.” I laughed a little at the way things had come full circle. “It’s funny, I remember coming back home and sitting right here on this porch, wondering if I was an idiot or a gentleman.”
She took a sip of coffee, holding the cup in both hands. “And tonight?”
I smiled wryly. “Exactly the same.”
“Well, I think you’re a gentleman.”
“Aha. See?” I pointed at her. “You agree that it would have been a mistake. You’d have been sorry tomorrow. I was right.”
“I’m not saying that,” she said defensively. “I’m just telling you that you’re a gentleman, not an idiot. I’m the idiot, coming here and throwing myself at you.” Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and she rolled her eyes. “God.”
“Natalie.” I put my hand on her arm. “Many women have trouble controlling their sexual urges around me. You need not be ashamed.”
She groaned. “Promise you’re not going to make fun of me for this the rest of our lives.”
“No way. I’m not that big a gentleman.”
Her face went pale. “But you can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Sure I can. But I won’t. In return, you tell me what the fuck happened tonight that made you lose your marbles.”
She sighed and looked across the fields toward her childhood home. “Dan wants time apart. Either that or we broke up. I’m not sure.”
“What? Why?”
“He said he wants a break. He said it would be good for us to see who we are when we’re not a couple.” She sipped her coffee. “He said we should be free to see other people and do what we want for a while before we get married.”
I blinked. That was so fucked up. He had her, and he wanted other girls?
“I lied to you yesterday when I said things were great sexually between us. They’re not.” She stared into her coffee. “He doesn’t seem to want me like that anymore, yet he says he still loves me. He…he cheated on me last night. And I think he’s done it before.”
Furious, I clenched my fists in my lap. “God, I’d like to punch that asshole right now. If he wanted other girls all this time, he should have said something and you guys should’ve broken up a long time ago. That’s the thing about having a girlfriend—you don’t get to fuck other girls. He doesn’t get to have it both ways.” Maybe my anger was hypocritical, since I’d been with girls who had boyfriends before, but goddammit, this was twice now I’d refrained from touching Natalie the way I wanted to, the way every bone in my body was aching to. OK, so I wasn’t exactly doing it for him, but he was a tangential reason why I wasn’t fucking her right this minute, and I was livid about it.