I’m still reeling from our text conversation when my food is delivered. I set it on the counter and retrieve a plate, but I’m distracted.
I definitely feel a little strange about that whole text exchange, but honestly? Not that strange, be- cause it’s Justin, and I’ve never hidden anything from him. We’ve been friends for so long, and he just gets me. He understands my relationship with my brother, he gets my love-hate relationship with hockey. He accepts my love of fast food tacos and my obsession with watching nature shows. We watched an entire episode the other night while on the phone—him in his bed, me in mine. It was about how polar bears hunt and catch beluga whales in openings in the ice. Seriously, it was so good.
But best of all, he understands my need to ex- plore this thing between us. That’s a win-win in my book.
Only now … things are changing. I can’t even pinpoint what, it’s just I know that something has shifted.
A buzzing of my intercom interrupts my thoughts. Justin is here, and I leave my food on the counter to answer it. If I hadn’t known him for twenty years, I’d probably be a little embarrassed to be seen like I am—dressed in a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and t-shirt with my hair up in a messy bun—but I’m sure he’s seen me look worse than this, so I’m not going to stress over it. Plus, he’s not my boyfriend, so it’s not like I have to work to impress him. Another perk to just being fuck buddies.
I pull open my door and almost swoon at the sight of him. He looks like he’s just come from the gym, dressed in a pair of black athletic joggers, sneakers, and a sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to reveal his thick forearms.
His mouth lifts in a wry smile as he holds up a shopping bag. “Mi’lady.”
I chuckle at him, and accept the bag. “You did not have to do that. But thank you.”
“It was nothing.” He grins at me and leans a little closer, and I’m not sure if he wants to kiss me. “I also bought you chocolate, because I read some- where that women crave chocolate when they’re on their period.”
“Oh.” I swallow, completely at a loss for words. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He grins at me. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod.
“Was your … condition … the reason you didn’t want to hang out tonight?”
I smirk at him. “My condition? It’s not a dis- ease, you know.”
His eyes meet mine, softening. “I know that.”
“And yeah. I mean, I figured I was out of com- mission and wouldn’t be much use to you tonight.”
Something flashes across his features and his mouth turns down. “We could have still hung out. Even if we couldn’t …you know.” His eyebrows raise suggestively.
Something about this warms me. And I have no idea why it didn’t occur to me that he’d want to just hang out even if sex wasn’t on the table. “I – I’m not sure what to say to be honest.”
“It’s okay.” He nods to the bag in my hands. “How’d I do?”
I pull the box out and take a peek. “You did
perfectly. Thank you for this. I owe you.”
He shakes his head. “It was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.”
He’s being so kind to me, and I suddenly feel bad that I just assumed he wouldn’t want to hang out. I’m not sure why I made that assumption, I guess because we’re supposed to be keeping things casual, but in this moment, this feels anything but casual. He feels like a concerned boyfriend and while it’s not an unwelcome feeling, it is confus- ing.
“Have you eaten? I ordered sushi, we could share,” I offer. We both know one sushi roll wouldn’t be nearly enough food for him, but I hope it’s the thought that counts.
He leans in and brings one hand to my cheek. “I have groceries in the car. Owen and I are going to cook when I get home.”
His fingertips on my skin send tingles racing down my spine. “Okay.”
Justin steps forward, closing the distance be- tween us and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is soft, sweet, and suddenly I feel a little lost. A little helpless and entirely too warm.
But then he’s pulling back, smiling at me sweetly. “Feel better.”
I hold up the bag. “Thanks again for this.” “Anytime.”
I watch him leave, and then wander back into the kitchen. My sushi, which two minutes ago looked so appetizing suddenly isn’t as appealing. I fix my plate and carry it into the living room, set- ting it on the coffee table as I pick up my phone.
Still thrown off by the turn of events over the last half hour, I fire off a quick text to Becca as I try to figure out what this new, achy feeling in my chest is all about. It’s like when he walked out that door, he took some part of me with him.
I’m so fucked.
Her reply comes right away.
What’s wrong??
I muster up my courage and decide to call her. This is too complicated to get into via text mes- sage.
She answers on the first ring. “Did something
happen?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know!”
“Start at the beginning. Tell me what’s bother- ing you.” Her tone is soothing and I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head.
“Justin was here. He stopped by to bring me tampons.”
“Oh. That’s it? That’s the only reason he was there?”
“Yep,” I confirm, exhaling slowly as I lean back against the couch. “I’m so fucked, aren’t I?”
“You’ve fallen for him,” she says, tone matter- of-fact. She knows me well.
As soon as that blue box of tampons was in my hands, it was like something shifted. God, that sounds so stupid, but it’s true. It suddenly made this entire fling into something more, something real. I realize now I had been lying to myself when I said that I’d be fine when this ended. Fine is the exact opposite of what I’d be. Shattered? Yes. Bro- ken? Uh-huh. I realize now that I love him. I al- ways have.
“Yeah,” I whisper, voice shaky. “I’m in love
with him, Bec.”
“Oh, honey,” Becca sighs.
We both know Justin isn’t capable of love and monogamy and commitment. He’s the kind of guy you have a one-night stand with and then brag to your friends about the next day. I’ve always known that, and it’s the reason I tried so hard to keep my emotions out of this and just let my body have its way. But apparently I’m not built for casual sex. I have no idea why I thought I was.
“What are you going to do now? Are you going to stop seeing him?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, but the truth is, I do know. I just have to work up the courage to actually do it.