Addicted to You (Addicted #1)(40)

I share it easily. “I’ll be sure to call you if I need them.”

That’s all it takes. I slip inside the yacht where the server lingers by the bar, talking softly to the older bartender. He gives me a onceover and then I head downstairs, looking back to make sure he follows me.

He does.

Each step down towards the cabin rooms, I sense my looming fate. Am I going to ruin our fake relationship? Lo’s paranoia ekes into my brain. What if I ruin our friendship over this? Or any possibility of a future, of something more together? I shake it off. This is like any other day. Lo will be happy that I feel better, and he’ll be glad that I did it unseen. Nothing will change. Nothing will change, I repeat.

And then I freeze at the bottom. Lo sits outside our room, empty-handed. His head hangs low, and when he sees me, he jumps to his feet. I fossilize and feel the server’s body-heat right behind me.

Lo doesn’t even look at him. He keeps his hard gaze right on me. “I need to talk to you.”

Talk. I don’t need talking. I need something else. “I’m busy.” Just say it! Tell Lo you want him and end this.

I’m a coward.

His nose flares. “Please.”

I glance back at the server, who seems to be piecing together our relationship, trying to figure out what kind it is. Very, very unconventional, that’s what.

I am awful at saying no. So even though my body protests with all its might, I nod and slip into my cabin, Lo shutting out the server behind us.

I feel like I have to justify my actions again. “Lo, I really need this. I’m sorry. I am.” I inhale a strained breath. “I just don’t know what else to do.” I keep talking, afraid of what he has to say, so my words tumble out. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I know it won’t stop until it happens.”

“Sex or sex with him?” He points to the door. “If you really want him, Lily, then go. Have at him. Make him come, make him scream, if that’s what makes you feel better, then do it.”

“Wait,” I say, my head spinning. “Wait, that’s not. No…” I swallow. “It’s not him. It’s just the sex.” I fiddle with my fingers, much more nervous than I’ve ever been with him. This is not pretend. What we’re saying to each other, this is very real. “I’ll start shaking if I don’t find a way to satiate this. It’s like…it’s like there’s something wrong in my head, and the only way to be at ease is to do it. You understand…don’t you?”

He rubs his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

I inhale, thinking he’s going to let me go without the added guilt. “So we’re okay then?”

He blinks in confusion. “What?” And then he realizes what I’m asking. “Fuck no, Lily. I’m not saying it’s okay for you to have sex with him.”

My eyes glass. “Why are you doing this to me?!” I scream. “I’ve never once ripped a glass out of your hands. I’m sorry you hate this guy, but there’s no one else. You want me to sleep with the old bartender? He’s my father’s age!” I do have some standards.

He scowls darkly and then touches his chest. “I’m clearly an option, and yet you still can’t ask me. I don’t fucking get it. Am I that revolting to you? You would rather go through withdrawals and bang some asshole than sleep with me?”

I gape, choked for a response. He wants to sleep with me? “I’m not going to use you like I do these other guys,” I murmur.

“Goddammit, Lily,” he curses. “I am standing here telling you that I want to have sex with you, and you still can’t accept it. Was it that terrible the first time, is that it?”

“What? No…” The first time was wrong, impetuous and rushed. Back then, we were just kids trying to make each other feel better. If we have a second time together, I don’t want it to be like that. “You shouldn’t have sex with me just because I’m withdrawing. We’re friends,” I tell him. “You’re not going to be another name on my list of guys for the week. Okay?”

His nose flares, breathing heavily. And he starts closing the distance between us.

“Lo,” I warn.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

I watch his feet near, my pulse racing.

“Have you ever thought about me inside you?”

I almost stumble back, but he hooks an arm around my waist.

“Have you ever thought about us together?”

I can hardly breathe. “Together?”

“Where I don’t share you with any other man.”

All the time. “Yes.” I keep expecting to wake up.

“If I could be enough to fill you, would you let me?”

I look at him. “Yes.”

“Then let me try,” he says, his hand cupping my face. “Let me try to be enough for you.”

“That’s a big undertaking,” I tell him, my body swelling.

His lips brush mine as he whispers. “I’m big enough to take it.” Oh… “Let me. Help you.” He places my palm over his swim trunks, right on his crotch. Yes.

“I didn’t know you wanted to…you never said anything,” I stumble. My lungs struggle for air, three years of tension bursting.