I lift my head and lean in. I don’t think. I don’t want to. This guy has been trying to be with me since I met him. I feel so lost, so horribly low, and he’s right there. His face is in the dictionary next to the entry for "fuckbuddy." It’s Josh all the way.
I don’t have to wait. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t make excuses—he kisses me back. His hands tangle in my hair, and it’s nice. It’s not Matt. It’s not Nate. There’s no intense pull like with Nate, but it’s still nice. Nice enough to stop thinking, so I close my eyes and fall into him, letting the kiss devour me. He holds me, says my name, and I know they’re words I’d want to hear, but they mean nothing. I feel like I’m lost in a dark tunnel. The next thing I know, Josh’s hands are on my face, cupping my cheeks, and he’s talking to me.
“Kerry?” He leans in and pecks me, nipping my lips before he pulls away.
“You bit me?” The action confuses me. I blink at him and realize my eyes must have been closed for a while.
“Don’t tell me Matt never bit you? Nipped your neck, dragged his teeth over your nipples?”
I shake my head. Did we talk about Matt? I don’t remember. “No. He didn’t do stuff like that.”
“Then he’s a jackass, and you deserve better.”
My lips twitch as something inside of me shorts out. Smiles turn to tears on a dime, and no amount of blinking makes them stop. Josh leans in and kisses me again, softly, slowly, deeply. I whimper into his mouth, and when he pulls back, he’s looking at me again.
“It’s time for bed, come on.” He releases my head, but it’s too heavy, and I can’t hold it up. It flops back against the headrest, and I’m lost for a long time. At least it seems like a long time. Golden light pours into the car when he opens the door. There’s a streetlamp and a door. Josh lifts me, and the rest of the world fades away as I fall asleep against his chest.
Chapter 11
My head is throbbing. I groan and roll onto my side. As I open my eyes, I glance around, not recognizing where I am. I’m staring at a tan wall and ugly curtains with a huge floral print—the kind you’d find in a hotel room.
The last thing I remember is baking cookies with Beth. I sit up slowly and grab my head, putting pressure on my temples. I’m wearing a t-shirt that’s not mine and am aware of my bare bottom against the sheets. Damn it! What did I do? I squint and glance around the room.
That’s when I see my clothes on the chair across from me, and a thin sliver of light spills out beneath the bathroom door. I try to stand up and wish I hadn't, but I need to know where I am, and who’s here with me. I wrap the sheet around my waist and pad toward the bathroom. Before I get there, the door opens, blinding me with light.
I cover my eyes and clutch my sheet.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to be shy now, not after last night?” Josh comes into focus, and I freeze.
What did I do? Did I seriously sleep with this guy? My throat is so tight I can’t speak. He smiles at me, glances at the sheet, then says, “You refused to keep wearing your pants. There’s only so much a guy can do when a girl gets like that.” He leans in, kisses my forehead, then walks around me into the room. “I admire you even more now. I didn’t think that was possible.”
I swallow hard and stare at him. “What happened?” It’s the two words no woman ever wants to ask. Did I do this? I don’t remember. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I can’t fall apart in front of him. I won’t.
The corner of his lips tugs up a little. “Don’t tell me that you forgot everything?” He pulls on his shoes and then walks over to me. He places his hands on my sheet-covered hips and continues. “
The begging, the passionate pleas for more, the way you insisted on being on top? Come on, Kerry. You forgot all of it?”
I pull away and step back as fear rushes up my throat like acid. “I didn’t. We didn’t.”
I can’t fathom the look he’s giving me. It’s lost between sly and somber. “We didn’t do anything you didn’t want to do. It was all you. I just laid there.”
Oh, God! I want to die. I can’t look at him. How am I supposed to face Beth? He’s her brother. She’s going to kill me. I find my voice. “Nothing happened.”
“Exactly.” He’s completely cool and collected. His hair is damp from the shower, but he’s already dressed in what appears to be the same outfit as yesterday, but it’s clean. He notices my gaze and presses his hands to his shirt. “I had our clothes sent out. Yours are also clean. Flour-free and everything.”
I’m horrified. “This is yours?” I pluck at the white t-shirt.
He nods. “Yes, sorry. You really wanted it. I’d been wearing it and then you—”
I shake my head and close my eyes. “I remember.” It’s a lie. As far as I know, last night didn’t exist.
His gaze narrows. “You do?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Fuckbuddies, right? That's what you wanted?” He’s behind me, not touching, standing too close.
I’m horrified, unable to speak, but I find myself nodding. I grab my clothes and rush into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Tears are threatening to fall when I hear him sigh from the other side of the door.