I bury my face against Neil’s chest. Into his shirt, I whisper, “I’ve fucked up big this time. If I told you everything, you would hate me. And I don’t want you to hate me. Not ever.”

Neil’s arms tighten around me. “Nothing would ever make me hate you, Chrissie. Whatever is going on it’s going to be OK. Talk to me. I want to help. We’ll figure out together how to fix whatever has got you so worried and afraid.”

Worried and afraid? How can he see that? That’s how I feel today. I just didn’t know it showed.

I turn in his arms to put space between us. His eyes are lush green and unguarded, and something in his gaze nearly makes the words spill from me.

“I’m sorry I’m such a pain,” I whisper.

“You’re not a pain. We’re friends. Friends help each other during the shitty times. I’m glad I’m here at a time when you need me. It’s one of the things I did wrong. One of the things I regret. Not being here for you as much as you were always here for me. Tell me what’s going on, Chrissie. There is no point pretending things are OK. Not with me, and I want to help. I owe you a lot.”

Neil means that, but somehow it makes being with him so much harder.

“You owe me nothing, Neil.”

His eyes burn into me. “Then let me be here for you because I love you.”

“Neil, please…”

“I won’t pretend I don’t love you when I do.”

He reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek with his finger, those callused fingers that touch with their own sweet type of velvet care.

“I love you and I’m going to keep loving you even if it’s just only as your friend,” Neil whispers.

The tears come harder; I can’t stop them. The sensation of Neil’s rough fingertips brushing my flesh floods my heart with the memory of Alan. When Neil touches me this way, it is Alan I think of and feel, and I don’t want to.

Why can’t life be as kind as Neil is? Why can’t I love Neil the way I love Alan?

I don’t pull back when Neil takes my body against him and wraps his arms around me. I know this is wrong, dishonest and unkind, but it feels so good to be held. Really, really good to let Neil hold me.

~~~

I wake in the wrap of Neil’s limbs. My bedroom is filled with faint light, and it feels like early morning. I don’t know if I should stir and let Neil see that I’m awake. His breath teasing my ear has the shallowness of sleep, but I’m not sure if he is asleep. I can’t tell by the way his arms are holding me, and I can’t see his face.

Somehow last night, we ended up in my bed together. I’m not exactly sure how it happened. It just happened.

I shift my head and my hair falls across my face. Unfocused moments slip by. I know why it happened; last night Neil was exactly what I need from a guy right now. For hours he just sat with me on the couch, holding me, caressing me, saying nothing, not probing into my fucked-up life with a whole bunch of questions, and by the time we went to bed everything about my predicament felt a little less scary.

It’s no big deal. It was a fuck. Nothing more. No harm, no foul to either of us.

More snippets of the night come to me. The way Neil looked at me. The words he spoke. The expression in his eyes as he made love to me.

Oh God, why did I let it happen? I try to console myself with the thought that it was just one of those things girls do when they are overwhelmed by their worries, when the guy they love will not love them, and there is a different guy, giving and wonderful, ready to be what you need him to be.

I cringe. That’s a pitiful rationalization. Well, there’s no point in panicking over this now, it’s done, and I really don’t need another thing to feel badly about.

I look down at Neil’s arms and try to figure out a way to slip out of bed without waking him. I need some alone time to get my emotions back in check. I’ve got to get the right amount of distance between us again.

Jeez, I don’t even know if that’s possible after last night. The temptation to tell him everything was painfully strong, even before we went to bed together. But I can’t do it. I can’t dump my shit on him. It wouldn’t be right, not on any level.

Having sex with Neil and waking with his flesh all around me reminds me that, as good as we are together, he is only almost everything I want and I won’t ever be in that place emotionally with Neil where he is everything that I want. Neil deserves that from a girl—for him to be everything that she wants—because he’s an amazing guy. I can’t give him that, and it would be wrong not to make that clear to him today.

Why did I take him to bed and fuck him?

I feel Neil move behind me, and then he starts kissing against the back of my neck and I tense. I can tell by how he is kissing me, touching me, that he is definitely in the mood for a repeat of last night.

I untangle myself from his arms and turn onto my other side, facing him.

Neil’s sleepy eyes hold me like an embrace as he reaches out to lightly touch my cheek. “Hi.”

My heart leaps against my chest since he says a single word—hi—in a way that tells me this wasn’t just a fuck for him.

“Hi,” I reply, tense and awkward.

His darkly tanned, nicely muscled arm lifts and he pushes the hair from his face. “I don’t think I have enough strength to get out of bed today. I think I’ll just lie here while you’re at class, thinking of you.”

“I don’t have class until four.”

“Everything is going my way today.” He smiles and starts to lightly brush his fingers along my arm. “Fuck, I’ve missed being with you, Chrissie. I wasn’t sure until I saw you lying beside me that I didn’t dream last night and that I wasn’t really on the couch.”

He leans in to kiss me and my entire body stiffens before I pull back. He eases up on an elbow, gaze rapidly sharpening, and I wonder what has slipped into my expression.

The languidness leaves him in a jolt I can feel. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I scooch away from him to recline against the headboard. “Look, Neil…”

His eyes start to flash, trapping my words inside me. “What do you mean look, Neil. Look, Neil, what?”

Oh crap. I try desperately not to look flustered. “Last night was good. Really good, but…” I halt for a minute, searching for the right words since it’s not easy to tell a guy you’ve just gone to bed with that having sex with him doesn’t mean you want him back. “…but I don’t think we should change anything about us.”

He pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed. “Not change anything, huh? Excuse me, but fucking you last night kind of seemed like we were changing things about us.”

My face burns, and I lower my gaze. “I don’t want us to get back together.”

In a moment he is rising from the bed, jerking on his pants.

“Where are you going? What are you doing?”

“I’m just putting on my pants,” Neil growls through gritted teeth, and I can feel he’s pulsing with anger and other things. He turns to face me. “What was last night? Did you just want to get laid or was that some kind of pity fuck for the guy you dumped?”

I cringe. “Jeez, Neil, pity fuck? Really?”

The way he stares at me makes me regret those words. OK, they were lame, but I never think fast on my feet.

I stare up at him, wide-eyed and pleading. “I care about you. You care about me. It just happened. That was what last night was. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

His jaw clenches and unclenches, and his expression changes several times. His gaze locks back on me, furious. “Are you seeing someone else? Involved with someone?”

Betraying color floods my cheeks and he lets out a ragged sigh as he rakes a hand through his hair.

“Fuck, I know I didn’t ask you that, but why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not involved with anyone. I’m not even dating.”

He searches my face. “Are you telling me the truth?”