The Friendship List(68)

“I saw your name on the screen. Hi.”

“I thought maybe we could do something on Saturday. Hang out for the day. I doubt you want to give rock climbing another try but maybe we could go for a day hike. Or we could come back over here.”

He told himself to stop talking. He sounded too eager and hopeful. He was the man—he should be cool.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice soft.

“I’m free Sunday, if that works better.”

“It’s not the day.”

She hesitated and in that pause, he knew. It wasn’t about availability. It wasn’t the day—it was him.

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” she told him, then winced. “I’m sorry. That came out more harshly than I meant it to. I like you, it’s not that. We’ve had fun and it’s been great, but I just can’t go out with you. I’m not ready to date anyone.”

The surge of anger was unexpected in its intensity. He had a feeling that behind it was a truckload of hurt, but this was not the time for self-examination.

“It’s been three years, Unity. What’s the timeline? Five years? Ten? Never? You’re thirty-four. Shouldn’t you get on with your life? Isn’t there something you want beyond waiting for something that’s never going to happen? Are you giving up on everything? No husband, no kids, just you waiting to die?”

When he finally got himself to stop talking, he realized he’d gone too far, but what did it matter? He wasn’t getting through to her.

“You know what? Forget it.” He shifted the phone to his other ear. “You don’t want to go out, that’s fine with me. I get the message. I won’t bother you again.”

With that, he hung up. After tossing his phone on his desk, he picked up the report he’d been looking at it and threw it against the wall.

“This is bullshit,” he growled, standing up, thinking this would be a good time to go find a fight. Only he wasn’t a kid anymore and there wasn’t anyone to fight. There was just anger and disappointment and the realization that he’d lost Unity. Even sadder, he’d lost something he hadn’t thought he would ever find—the one. Stupid, but there it was.

No, he told himself bitterly. Nothing was lost. There had been nothing to lose. She wasn’t gone—she’d never been available in the first place and he’d been the moron who’d refused to see that.

  Keith drove the bus north toward Monterey. Despite his lack of sleep, he was feeling pretty good. The last two nights with Ellen had been incredible. She was the perfect lover—enthusiastic, easy to please and up for anything. She wanted to make up for lost time and he was happy to let that happen.

As per usual, the teens were in the back of the bus and Ellen was up front. She slid from her seat to the one behind him and smiled at him in the mirror. He smiled back.

She leaned forward, resting her arms on the bar behind the driver’s seat. “So I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice low. “Could we do it from behind? I’ve always wondered about that—there are logistics—but I think we could make it work.”

The image was clear enough to give him an instant hard-on. “Not while I’m driving,” he told her, trying to sound stern.

“So many rules.” Her smile was impish. “But fine. We’ll talk about it later.”

He had no doubt about that. When it came to sex, she would talk about anything. “Speaking of rules, we need to come up with a few.”

“Why?”

He glanced up in the mirror, making sure his other passengers weren’t in earshot.

“You can’t keep running in and out of my hotel room. We’ll get caught.”

“You’re such a worrier. So you want to put this on hold until we’re back in Willowbrook?”

Go without Ellen for the next week?

“I’m not saying that.”

Her smile returned. “We’ll be extra careful and be sure that we set the alarm.”

Last night they’d forgotten and they’d both fallen asleep, not waking until almost six. Ellen had dressed in a hurry, then bolted for her room before everyone else was up. He’d sweated one of the guys getting up early for a workout before they hit the road. Fortunately for them, everyone had slept in.

She lightly touched his shoulder. “I don’t want to give this up.”

“Me, either.”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” she told him, before returning to her seat.

He hoped she was right but knew there was more than logistics while they were on the road. What happened when they got home? He and Ellen had always been friends—he liked them being friends. What were they going to do when they weren’t on the bus? Date? Just have sex? Did he want them to be dating?

He liked Ellen. He liked them together—both in and out of bed. Dating could be interesting. Assuming she wanted that, too. Which they should have talked about before anything happened. Only she’d worn that dress and then she’d kissed him and he’d wanted her and now he couldn’t resist her.

If it was just the best sex of his life, he knew he would be okay. But it was more than that—it was the best sex of his life with Ellen, which honestly scared the crap out of him. Not that he would change a thing, which circled back to where he’d started. Tired, happy and more than a little confused.