Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly #1)(28)

He lifts an eyebrow and goes to retrieve our beers. “What makes you think it was better?”

It’s my turn for a stung ego now. “You’re telling me that all of your kisses are like that?”

Please say no.

He retrieves his beer. Takes a sip as he considers my question. “No. Not all kisses are like that.”

My stomach leaps in relief.

“Okay, so you may have been on to something,” he grumbles. “Maybe this friends-with-benefits thing could be…beneficial.”

My belly flips. Not so much with the satisfaction of being proven right, but with a quick stab of panic at what he’s saying. Of what we might be on the verge of doing.

“Maybe we should rethink it,” I say.

He gives me a look. “You’re not going to try and tell me it was gross, are you?”

Quite the opposite.

“No, I just…maybe you were right. About things getting too complicated.” I take a sip of the beer he’s handed me. It’s totally warm, which makes me wonder exactly how long that kiss lasted.

“Well, that’s the beauty of being adults, Parks. We get to decide what we make complicated, and what we let be pure, uncomplicated fun.”

I’m tempted. Oh, how I’m tempted.

“So how would this work?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “It’s your idea. Didn’t you work out any of the details while you were stewing on it the entire drive home from your parents’?”

Damn. Sometimes it’s like the guy’s inside my head.

“Well,” I say, licking my lips, “I was thinking that the first rule is that there are no rules.”

He laughs. “I bet your head just exploded. You love rules.”

“I know, which is why this needs to be different.” I rush to explain. “There’s no limit on how many times we can…hook up. No timeline. We stop when it stops being fun.”

“Is this an exclusive thing?”

My turn to laugh. “Now it’s your head that’s exploding. Do you even know what exclusive means?”

“I’ve heard of it,” he grumbles. “I’m just wondering…are you going to flip your shit when I bring another girl home?”

“Okay, here’s where I’m at with that,” I say. “As long as we’re doing this—whatever this is—it’s just us. But the moment you decide you want to go back to your different-girl-every-night routine, just say the words, and we call this off, no hard feelings.”

Ben squints. “What about you? Same rules apply?”

“Yup.”

Not that I envision myself having a constant stream of bed partners like Ben, but I’m hoping that hooking up with someone I trust is exactly what I need to unlock my constant overthinking.

Maybe get me to just live instead of thinking so much about living.

“Okay,” he says simply. “When do we start?”

Again with the stomach flips.

“One more thing.” I hold up a finger. “I think we need some sort of safe word.”

Ben chokes on his beer. “What kind of things are you into, Parks?”

I roll my eyes. “Not that kind of safe word. I mean like if one of us wants out of the arrangement, for any reason, they can just say the word, and we end it, no questions asked, never to be mentioned again. And we go back to how we were.”

“But I thought we just agreed we weren’t going to let it be complicated.”

“We’re not,” I say quickly. “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be prepared. A fail-safe.”

He shrugs. “Fine. What’s the word?”

“Something random,” I say. “Something that we won’t say in regular conversation.”

“Monogamy?” he asks with a cocky grin.

“I was thinking more like…kumquat, or something.”

Ben busts up laughing. “Your safe word is one that contains cum, and a syllable that rhymes with twat?”

I blush. “You think of one, then!”

“How about cello,” he says.

“Like the musical instrument that nobody outside of a high school plays?”

“Exactly,” he says. “You barely know what it is. I definitely don’t know what it is. It’s for sure not going to come up in regular conversation.”

“All right,” I say, considering. “Works for me.”

“Okay, then. So…when do we start?”

His eyes drift over my body, and I laugh. “You are such a guy.”

“That kiss was hot, Parks. It’s not weird that I say that, right?”

“No,” I muse. “Oddly, it’s not. And yes, it was. Hot, I mean.”

Understatement.

“So what are we waiting for? My bed or yours?”

“Oh, that’s another thing,” I say. “You’ve got to keep your sheets clean. That or it’s always going to be my bed.”

“Overthinking it,” he says with a shake of his head. “Trust me, when we get into it, you won’t be caring whether or not the sheets are clean.”

“I’ll care.”

Except I’m not sure that I will. Not if he does other things as well as he kisses.