What Lovers Do(58)

“I realize this. Meeting the wrong guy might be bad luck but allowing him to move in with her sounds more like a poor decision on her part.”

“You know what I think it is?”

“I don’t,” he says. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“I think she’s too nice. And people take advantage of nice people, and then they make it seem like it’s the nice person’s fault, absolving themselves of any wrongdoing in the matter. I hate that … you know? I hate when being nice becomes a flaw.”

Shep’s eyebrows lift a fraction. Does he think I’m losing it? I may have gone too far defending my “friend” and her niceness.

“So I guess my point is this …” I have no point. Well, that’s not entirely true. My silent point is that I’m attracted to Shep. I know I can’t have him, nor should I want him even if my life weren’t in a little disarray. However, I don’t like watching him flirt with Riley. Or is he just being Shep?

I blow out a long breath. “We went from strangers to conversing friends to friends who golf and spend the weekend in Sedona. Then that crossed over into a new kind of best friend category. And I’ll admit … I had the ‘when in Vegas’ mentality. But now we’re home. And you know I only offered you a temporary friendship, but …”

But what? I have no clue.

Cersei buries her nose in the corner of the drying station. She wants nothing to do with my ridiculous antics to get Shep’s attention.

“Okay.” He nods slowly. “I keep forgetting about your arranged marriage, criminal activity, and homelessness. My bad. How about this … you tell me exactly what you do and don’t want from me. I endured the mind-fuck thing with Millie, and I’m kinda over it.”

That’s easy. I want Jimmy out. I want the gestational period for this baby to be six weeks instead of forty weeks. I want Riley to find a different job. And if I’m going big … I’d like a tiny peek at Shep’s retirement portfolio to calculate the chances of him needing free housing in the future.

“I like golfing. And spending time at the dog park.”

Shep offers another slow nod, eyes slightly squinted. “So you want to be friends, the kind that golf and take their dogs to the dog park?”

I nod and Shep refocuses on Cersei’s fuzzy butt.

“I like talking to you on the phone too,” I add.

He grunts a laugh without giving me his gaze. “It would have been easier for you to have simply said you don’t want a friends-with-benefits relationship.”

He’s so wrong. I want all the benefits.

“Can we do that? Can we go back to friends without benefits?”

“It’s like you read my mind.” He turns off the dryer when Cersei decides she’s had enough.

“I read your mind?” I put Cersei’s collar and leash around her neck.

“Yes.” He saunters to the wash bin we used and begins to clean it.

“You wanted to go back to just friends again?”

“Yes.” He sprays the basin.

“Why?”

“I don’t know … I think the company has been great. And I agree, talking on the phone is fun. Even the golf is enjoyable despite your unfair talent.” He glances over his shoulder and winks at me before returning his attention to the basin. “But the benefits part was not up to par. And I’ve never been one for beating a dead horse, so I feel just as relieved as you do.”

As soon as I can pick my jaw up from the floor, I will have a few words to say to Marcus Shepard. But for now, I’m utterly speechless. The sex? He doesn’t think the sex with me was up to par? What the actual fuck?

Just as I start to unscramble my brain and the words make their way to my lips, Riley interrupts. “Are we out of the dehydrated duck feet?”

I am in the middle of a secret relationship crisis and she’s asking about dehydrated duck feet?

Shep wipes his hands on a towel. “No. There’s another box in back. I’ll grab it.” He gives me a smile. It seems a little generous for someone who is unhappy with my sexual performance. It must be the friend smile, not the best friend smile. “I can meet you next Monday night at the park. Or I can call you later to chat. Or we can golf this weekend?”

I have no clue how to respond to him. That’s it? I’m a bad lover, but how about we get nine holes in this weekend? No. I don’t accept this on the principle that I AM NOT BAD IN BED!

This is my ticket. A free ticket to get out of explaining why I will need to go approximately six months without seeing him in person. Before long, I’ll have a little bump and our friendship will be over or put on a long pause. I’ll need a good month after the birth to wrap my midsection like a heroine in a Victorian romance novel. It’s not clear yet whether my vaginal region will be noticeably lax to someone who had once ventured into the tighter canal. And if I’d end up having a C-section, how would I explain that scar? What are the chances of Shep knowing the difference between a C-section scar and one left after say … an appendix removal? But then … Jesus … what if I use the appendix excuse and then actually need my appendix out? Surely Shep knows humans only have one appendix.

These are moot points because Shep will never have sex with me again. I am the dead horse he won’t beat.