Page 313 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“Friends with benefits,” I retort.

“Not gonna deny the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” His eyes lock with mine, those gold flecks dancing as my thoughts swirl, whirl, and tumble out of control.

“You’re serious.”

God, please let him be serious.

“As a heart attack.”

Thoughts of us in the dim light fill my mind. The warmth. The pleasure. The comfort. The praise.

The breaking of rules.

“C’mon, Em. You know it’s a good idea. We’ll both be the beneficiaries of good sex—sex we’ve already proven to be top notch—and we don’t have to deal with the complications of afterward. The clingy one who suddenly wants more. The frantic phone calls to make sure we’re thinking about them. The randomly showing up where we like to hang out to make sure we didn’t forget them.”

I chuckle because it’s as if he’s repeating every scenario for why I’ve deleted names from my phone.

“See? You know what I’m talking about. You know that’s all a pain in the ass.”

“Kind of like you?”

“Yeah, but I’m a cute pain in the ass.”

I can’t stifle my laugh because he’s wearing me down, not that I’ve put up much resistance.

“I have to think about this . . . without you in my face, badgering me like a little kid.” Because I know he’s playing me right now, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t a pretty brilliant play.

His laugh fills the room, and I know he knows he has me.

“Meet me here tomorrow after work. Like seven-ish. We can talk then.”

“Deal.” His grin is back and as disarming as ever.

And when he turns to go out the door, I hate that every part of me is relieved that I have an excuse to get to see him again. Whether I agree to his plan or not, at least I know he’ll be here tomorrow. I spent the last week avoiding him, and I would never admit it aloud, but I’d missed him.

Friends with benefits.

Humph.

Way to stick to your guns, Reeves.

Step.

There it is again.

Step.

I dig my fingers into my stuffed bunny.

Step. The jingle of Rex’s collar.

Don’t make a sound.

Step.

Don’t move.

Step.