CHAPTER 9
Lauren
THE PRESENT...
Sleep came quickly to me—a gift of over indulging. The next morning, however, was not as kind. I woke with a headache I told myself I’d earned, and more than one regret about the night before.
Luckily, feeling awkward was a sensation I knew how to handle well. I’d felt some variation of it for most of my life. Just never with Graham.
I stumbled to the bathroom to relieve myself then shower. As I stood beneath the hot spray of water, I didn’t want to wash away the memory of his touch. I wanted to bottle the sensation of being his, even if it was just for a few moments, and keep it with me. The brain’s synapses didn’t work that way. The details would naturally fade away over time unless they were repeated.
I soaped myself, closing my eyes while letting every sensation I could recall come back to me. And just as they had denied myself the final pleasure the night before, my thoughts sabotaged this reverie as well. He said there should be no guilt, but I did feel guilty. Graham was probably thinking he’d taken advantage of me, but the reverse was closer to the truth.
Jack was out there somewhere and I was so angry with him that if I didn’t see him again it would be too soon. At least, that’s how it felt. Would time change that as well?
Imagining not knowing where Graham was or how he was doing tangled my insides painfully. I turned off the shower and dressed in jeans and T-shirt while my mind ran through simulations and the probable outcomes.
I could attempt to pretend I didn’t remember much about the night before. Graham might be relieved if I did. The lure of that option was I didn’t have to face how many times I’d offered myself to him—even as he laid me on the bed. It might salvage some of my pride, but it would mean lying to Graham and I’d never done that. Also, where would it take us? There probably wasn’t a better way to end my friendship with him than inserting that kind of lie into it.
I could apologize again. Honestly, I felt sorry enough about what Jack had done as well as how I’d used the situation to get what I’d always wanted that apologies would come easily—and with great frequency. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me, though. If I was hurt by last night, Graham would be, too. I couldn’t bear the idea of hurting him more.
I could act as if being with him had left me unaffected. People fucked all the time and, by his definition, we didn’t even get to the point where we needed to count it. I could be cool as a cucumber, sophisticated like some of the women I’d seen him date. The problem? Graham knew me too well. He’d know I was trying to be brave for him. It might not even be a lie I could sustain. And where would it lead? What’s the next step? Fucking someone else to prove my indifference? I didn’t want that. Not for me. Not for Graham.
As I blew my hair dry, I gave myself a stern look in the mirror. Graham said he didn’t want to lose me. He was willing to separate what Jack had done from our friendship. He might not love me the way my heart ached for him to, but he did love me. I needed to honor that. Graham’s life was full enough with people who wanted to take from him. There were many things I didn’t know, but I was certain I didn’t want to be one of those people.
What would being a loving friend to him look like after last night? It would require some painful honesty and then more love than lust. Since this was the first time I’d given into my craving for him, I suppose I had the restraint necessary to continue on that way—as long as we didn’t drink together again.
Honesty then restraint. I found a notebook and pen beside the bed. He’d said if I wrote a list he’d help me fulfill it. That sounded healthy. Loving. And I’d promised to help him compensate for his injury. I already had ideas for how and having a new problem to solve was exciting.
Not as exciting as the idea of Graham showing up at my bedroom door because he decided finishing what we started was what he wanted, but it would have to suffice.
As soon as I opened the kitchen door I was assailed by the heavenly scent of my favorite breakfast—blueberry muffins. I had brought some mix myself, but it was now tucked into my luggage. The only way Graham would have been able to make muffins was if he’d also brought a box of mix with him. Even though he’d been engaged, even though he was there to celebrate his own success, he hadn’t forgotten me. I hesitated at my door and blinked back tears.
Graham didn’t give himself credit for the good in him. I wished he could see himself through my eyes.
Could designing the right list help him do that? Yes, I believe it can.
Could helping him restore stability to our friendship? It just might.
All I had to do was proceed openly, honestly, and remember that what we had was so much more than what our bodies wanted.
I took a fortifying breath and walked into the kitchen with the blank notepad in one hand and pen in the other. Dressed in a T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest and jeans that did nothing to conceal the power of his thighs, Graham looked up as I entered. He was leaning against the kitchen counter with his phone in one hand. Behind him was a rack of fresh muffins that were cooling on the stovetop. Our eyes met and held. I saw a myriad of emotions in his: concern, regret, and a flash of something I hadn’t expected to—desire.
Holy shit. It rocked right through me and replaced the calm morning greeting with a more guttural, “I understand why it’s better if we don’t fuck.”
He dropped his phone then swore. When he straightened, he looked both cautious and uncomfortable. Shit. I didn’t want that to be how he felt around me.
I waved the notebook in the air. “I’m a woman and you’re a man.” I’m sure he’s glad I’d clarified that. “It’s natural for us to think about each other in a carnal fashion, but that doesn’t mean we have to act on it or regret what we did while under the influence of an un-inhibitor. So, let’s have a muffin and you can help me come up with my list.”
He looked at me without saying a word.
I felt compelled to keep reassuring him, even though what I wanted to do was close the distance between us, wrap my arms around his neck and melt into him. I sat at the table and poised my pen above the notepad. “Ride a tandem bike,” I said as I wrote it then waved the list at him again. “See, no sex on this list.”
He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck then chuckled. “Who the hell puts riding a tandem bike on their bucket list?”
I raised my eyebrows. If this was going to work we’d have to find our footing again. “Well, Mr. Judgy, what would you add to my list?”
He took a moment to answer and I let myself imagine he was fighting back illicit fantasies of me. Hey, I was only human. I could put my desires second to what I knew we should do, but that didn’t mean the hunger I felt around him ceased to exist. He turned, put a muffin on a plate, and placed it in front of me with a glass of water. “I don’t know how long I’ll have to help you with that list before I have to go into preparation for the season.”
He was laying out his options as well. I respected that. We could avoid each other and hope this goes away. I ran through all the ways that might go badly and decided my way had a higher probability of ending with us still friends.
As long as I stopped imagining how good it’d felt to be wrapped around him with his cock thrusting up into me. Surely, I could do that.
So, we started with painful honesty. “Graham, I know I made things awkward between us, but I want you in my life. So, let’s do this. You help me. I’ll help you. Last night doesn’t have to define us. You didn’t hurt me and I didn’t mean to take it where it went. Your idea about the list was brilliant, and I don’t throw that word around lightly. Yeah, it’s going to be weird today, but you’re worth it to me. I hope I am to you.”
He poured himself a glass of water then joined me at the kitchen table. I couldn’t decipher his expression, but I didn’t expect to. Graham kept his feelings to himself. What I did have was faith in him. It went against my analytical side, but when it came to Graham it was just there.
We can do this, Graham.
He placed his phone on the table beside him. “Jack left me a message. He wants to see me today. We should keep your list to things you can do while visiting me in prison.”
My gut twisted painfully. There I was thinking about myself again while he was still trudging through hell. “Don’t let him take anything else away from you. Don’t give him that satisfaction.”
“Hope texted me as well.”
“What did she say?”
“That she wants to talk. Really, what the fuck does she think there is to say?”
“Maybe sorry?”
His eyes blazed. “Do you think any man wants to hear that?”
“No. I guess not.”
“The one I don’t understand is Jack. What the fuck was he thinking?”
“He wasn’t. You know how Jack is.”
Graham turned his phone over. “Things were going well for me. I don’t fucking need this.”
“No, you don’t.”
“If I see Jack, I’m going to hit him. And if I hit him, I won’t be able to stop.”
His tone was scary cold. This was a side of Graham I hadn’t seen before. It was brutally honest, though, and wasn’t that what I’d said we’d need to move forward? “So, maybe you shouldn’t see him—at least not yet.”
“I’m not going to fucking hide from this.”
I prayed I knew what the hell I was doing. “It’s not hiding; it’s letting him stew on what he did while you work it through on your own. I think he deserves a punch. Hell, he deserves the full beating you want to give him, but then what? Is it worth losing your career? Are you willing to let him take that from you as well?”
His hands fisted on the table. “No, I’m not.”
Hoping I didn’t sound like a sappy teenager, I said, “Then maybe the best revenge is doing well. Show them you don’t need either of them to be happy.”
I prayed he didn’t announce he couldn’t because he does need Hope to be happy. Could I be a good enough friend to help him work things out with her if that’s what he wanted? I’d like to think so, but I didn’t know. I held my breath and waited for his answer.
He nodded once. “I don’t.”
The tension in the kitchen was thick. I didn’t know if I was doing this right. All I knew was that I cared about Graham and I was trying to be the friend he deserved.
He grabbed the notepad and wrote: parasailing.
“Oh, no. You know I hate heights.”
His face relaxed. “Isn’t this about pushing your boundaries?”
“Are you doing all of these with me?” I asked.
He seemed to think it over, then said, “Yes. I haven’t signed my final contract yet, so the Cats can’t say that I’m breaking contract by participating in anything dangerous. I’m technically a free agent at the moment.”
I took the pad back and wrote: swimming with manatees.
He shuddered. “Hell no. Those things creep me out.”
I sat back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest. “Big strong man afraid of a water cow? Poor baby. It stays on the list.”
“Really?” A smile returned to his lips and he claimed the pad again. “So, that’s how this goes, is it? If it’s written it’s non-negotiable?”
I licked my bottom lip, telling myself his mind didn’t just go where mine did. “Within reason.”
“That’s bold of you. Not afraid of what I might add?” There was that spark in his eyes again, and I wanted to stand up, shed my clothing and beg him to add every decadent thing he could imagine to the list.
Instead, I leaned forward and tried to look less turned on than I was. “Bring it.”