But they felt better?

Yeah, sure. I can go with that. Instead of looking at her perfectly posed pictures of her perfect family, I unfollow her and exit out of the Internet. I should work. I’m at work, after all, and the day is almost over.

*

“So, give me deets,” Cameron says as we munch on chips and drink margaritas.

“We did dinner Friday night, saw a movie Saturday afternoon, then spend that night and Sunday just hanging out, playing video games and watching TV. Super laid back, but super enjoyable. And we fucked several times, of course.”

One of Cameron’s eyebrows goes up. He looks at his drink and grabs another chip, dipping it in salsa.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh nothing,” he says and flicks his wrist.

“Bullshit. What?”

He lets out a breath and looks at me, expression soft like he’s going to break bad news. “Nothing is exclusive yet, right?”

“Nothing’s been said.”

“And he still dates other women?”

“Not that I know of, but I mean, if we haven’t voiced the whole only see each other thing, then he can, right?”

Cameron nods. “Honey, I love you. You know that. I don’t want to see you to get hurt. I’m saying this out of love.”

My heart sinks into my stomach. Good thing there is a decent amount of tequila in there for it to float in. “Saying what?”

“You stay in. Play video games. Drink beer and eat pizza. You’re one of the guys.”

My eyebrows go together. “But we have sex. Frequently.”

“All men would fuck their best friend if they had a vagina.”

“You think I’m just friend material?”

“I’m not saying that’s all you can be. I’m just saying it sounds like that’s what Ben is doing. He still hasn’t taken you to his fancy art shows?”

“No, but—” I clamp my mouth shut. I’m not making excuses for Ben. If that really is the case and he’s using me for fuck-able guy time, then I feel more violated than a cucumber at an all-women’s prison. I gulp my margarita. “So, what do I do?”

“I’m not sure. Straight men confuse the hell out of me. Maybe just ask him?”

“No. If I don’t like the answer, I’d rather not know. Ignorance is bliss, after all.”

He pats my hand. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Look, it’s early. You’ve been seeing each other for what, three weeks? Give it time.”

“Right.” Three weeks isn’t that long. Not at all. But shouldn’t it be enough time to decide if someone wants to be with you or not? I knew after our first date that Ben is someone I want a relationship with. I’m not talking marriage here, but something a bit more serious than just casual dating. Though, if Ben were seeing other women … when? We spent a lot of time together over the last three weeks, especially the last two weekends.

“Anyway,” Cameron says and I know he feels bad. But not as bad as I’m feeling. Fuck. Fuck life. Fuck love. Fuck it all.

I take a deep breath and pick up my drink. No need to jump to conclusions. Nothing has changed between Ben and me, and I was super-freaking-happy just hours ago. I always knew being friends with your boss was bad news.

“Got plans for the Fourth?” he asks.

“Probably going home. My parents do this huge party on the lake. It’s one of those invite your friend and their friends and anyone they’ve ever met—as long as they bring food or drinks—kind of parties They have boats and jet skis for their cabin rental business so it’s actually fun.”

“Did you invite your boy toy?”

I shake my head. “Not yet, at least. I’ll mention it to him. Maybe if I promise hunting and fishing, and, uh, other manly things, he’ll want to come.”

“Liss,” Cameron says sharply. “I’m sorry, okay? Don’t make me feel bad.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Just trying to give myself a reality check.”

He looks at me sympathetically. “No need for that. Just keep realistic expectations. That’s what I did, what I still do. It keeps this from breaking.” He puts his hand over his heart. “It’s a harsh world out there.”

“Fuck, yes it is.” I finish my drink and feel my head spin. I’m about to order another and drown my pretty much entirely imagined woes when Ben calls. My heart flutters like it did before. “Hello?” I say, not sure what I should feel.

Why do I let people get in my head so much?

“Hey,” he says. “What are you doing?”

“Getting drunk with my boss,” I answer, eyeing Cameron. “You?”

He lets out a breath. “Just got done talking with a pain-in-the-ass client. I don’t do completely custom work, ya know? Don’t tell me what to paint then have me paint it. I don’t work like that.”

“Yeah,” I say then fall silent.

“I was going to ask you out to dinner, but I guess if you’re already out I won’t. I miss you.”

And just like that my heart melts.

“Want to join us?” I ask without giving Cam the chance to object.

“Your boss won’t mind? And you don’t mind? I don’t want to bother you.”

“Not at all. I’d love for you to join us. I’m kinda drunk, and could use a DD.”

“Are you drunk and frisky?”

I laugh. “Always.” I tell him where we are and hang up. “You don’t mind, do you?” I ask Cameron.

“Actually, I’m really curious to meet this guy. So no, not at all.”

“Good.”

*

“You should call in sick tomorrow,” Ben says, hands going under my shirt. He pushes me back on my bed. We got back from the restaurant a while ago, and I successfully convinced Ben to watch the first episode of Game of Thrones with me. Now he’s hooked.

Mission complete.

“Cam would know I’m faking for sure.”

“Nah, say you got food poisoning.”

“We had the same thing.” Ben puts himself between my legs. “But no one questions explosive diarrhea.”

“Hah, so true. Is being hungover a good enough excuse?” He lowers his head and kisses my neck. “Or losing control over the lower half of your body after I fuck you so hard you can’t walk?”

Hot damn. My lips press together and curve into a smile. My eyes widen and my vagina quivers. “I’ve never thought there would be any words I’m unable to say to my boss, but those might be it.”

Ben laughs and kisses me, trailing his lips down my neck and across my collar bone. “And now you have to follow through on that promise.”

“I won’t disappoint.” He sticks his fingers inside my leggings, which are navy blue and covered in glow-in-the-dark stars and moons. The TV is the only source of light in the room, but the pattern still gives off a soft glow. Ben peels them off and tosses them on the floor. He moves back, accidentally knocking the TV remote onto the ground. It bounces closer to me, and I lean over to get it but end up tumbling off the bed. I land hard, laughing.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks, holding back a chuckle.

“I think so,” I say and push myself up, feeling super sexy on all fours. I whacked my shin on the nightstand on the way down. I stand and wince. “That’s gonna bruise.”

I toss Ben the remote and click on the bedside light to look at the angry red spot on my leg.

“Ouch,” he says and takes my leg in his hands. I’m so glad I shaved this morning. His lips brush against my skin.

“They’re going to have to amputate it, I just know.”

“Most likely. That’s a very serious injury. Looks infected for sure. We better cut it off now before the infection spreads.”

“Just call me Peg-leg Pete, the pirate.”

Ben laughs. “I won’t be calling you Pete anytime soon, but I’d be okay with the pirate part.”

“You have a thing for pirates?”

“I might. And it might have to do with the fact that the first-ever porno I watched was called Pussy Pirates.”

I can’t control the giggle that comes from my mouth. “You’re not supposed to admit stuff like that, right?”

He shrugs. “Why not? It’s not like it’s a secret men like porn. And jerking off. Though I haven’t watched porn since we’ve been together, if that makes you feel better.”