Chapter Thirty-Seven

Julia

THEY SAY THE FIRST STEP to solving a problem is recognizing there's a problem to solve. Here's mine...

Every time Giles lays a hand on my side, as we cuddle close for sleep, his fingers absentmindedly caress the exposed skin of my back. And with each stroke, my thoughts grow desperately feral. Heat gallops over me, trampling, and makes it hard for me to think straight. 

Last night? I almost came from him rubbing himself on me. What in the hell were we thinking? I felt lightheaded afterward, completely outside of my own body. Then, I went to bed in my own room. Giles didn't even say anything about it. I think he understood that I needed time to think. I'm so overwhelmed between what my mind tells me I should do, my fear of making another big mistake, and the undeniable way my body surrenders to his touch.

I wish so badly Lex's belief was true, when she said falling for someone was a decision you made. But with Giles, the only decision I remember making was to be his friend. Everything else has been out of my control. 

The heart doesn't ask for permission and it doesn't check for boundaries. It's selfish and reckless, just wanting and demanding, consequences be damned.

And now I'm here, having to deal with the questions and the gray areas and the uncertainty. It's clear we make amazing friends. It's clear neither of us wants to jeopardize that. But it's also clear we've fallen into a wedge where we can't seem to move in either direction. We've created a norm that's completely abnormal. Friends don't sleep the way we do. Friends don't look at each other the way we do. 

The question is obvious: do we give in to the momentum our bodies have started? We've grown so intimate, and yet not intimate enough. We know the feel of each other, and still there's so much left unexplored. 

I don't want to think about him being with anyone else, but does he want to be? Are our nights together keeping him from pursuing satisfaction from other places? It seems so, from what he's told me. I've never explicitly asked him if he's been with other girls, terrified of what I might hear, but he has told me on more than one occasion he hasn't even been tempted. But how long will that last? If we continue to deny ourselves physical gratification, will we be forced to seek it elsewhere?

The thought makes my stomach turn on end. Some other woman underneath him, some other woman laying her head on his bare chest, breathing him in, letting his voice drum over her. No. I just can't let it happen. I'm being unfair, wanting him in the ways that make me feel comfortable, while keeping myself from having to face what I'm afraid of.

You're waiting to have sex again because you're scared, but the longer you wait, the more terrified you'll be...

Lex is the only person I can talk to about this. But there's so much I've been keeping from her. She has come to be my closest friend and saying something aloud to her would leave me no choice but to face it. 

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?"