A thousand thoughts hit him from all sides. The fact that it had been the best fucking sex he'd ever had was the most prevalent, the memory sliding over him and even now, hardening him to a full-blown erection. The feel of her was like an addiction; she was soft and feminine and the fact that he wanted to stake a fucking claim was screwing with his heart but his head was fighting the desire. Nothing had changed and he needed to remember that. She was still wrong for him. Maybe the sex had been the best in his life, but sex didn't count for everything. He had to remember the other qualities that were important in a relationship. There was compatibility, friendship, and that ever-elusive quality that he always heard about but didn't quite believe in, love.
What-the-fuck-ever. It didn't really matter. Those were problems he'd have to face in the long-term, but all he had to think about now was the short-term, at least for the moment. There was no question that she felt damn good in his arms, so for now, that's where she'd stay. He abruptly remembered what he'd told her when he'd been trying to get her to sleep with him. Nothing had to be serious. He knew it was a mantra he needed to live by. Even as he had the thought, he questioned whether it was viable or not. Could they maintain a casual affair with everything staying smooth sailing? As his arm clenched tightly around her, he acknowledged that he might have a certain difficulty with that. And why shouldn't it be easy to keep things casual?
He didn't feel casual.
And he didn't know if it would ever be possible to feel only casual with Angie.
****
Had someone told Angie a few months ago that she'd have a hard time chatting with Damian's mother, continually reiterating to the older woman that she and Damian were only friends, she wouldn't have believed them.
But it was so true. She was having a damn hard time. It happened every time the older woman came in for a cut.
As Mrs. Rule sat in the chair at her station, Angie couldn't help a shard of discomfiture at the lie she was perpetuating. Maybe if it had only been that one night between the two of them, it might have been easier. But it hadn't been. Maybe if it had only been a week or two of hot and heavy. But it hadn't been. It had been months. Months and months of a hot affair where almost every night was spent together. Every night when neither one of them had a conflict, they'd ended up in bed together.
Damian had shown up at her apartment the night after their 'first date' without any warning, and within mere minutes, Angie had found herself butt-assed naked and clinging to him, more than ready for round two. A date had turned into two dates and weeks had turned into months now.
Maybe it was only casual, maybe it wasn't, but it damn sure wasn't a simple friendship as she insisted to his mother every time the older woman came into the salon. "Yes, I think he's really handsome," she answered, biting the inside of her cheek, as she applied the highlights that would give the much-needed definition to the older woman's hair. It had taken a while to convince her to allow highlights, but now the older woman loved them and seemed to trust only Angie to do them.
"Then why exactly are the two of you just friends?" Justine Rule asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time, her tone one of frustration.
Angie attempted to stifle the clang of warning in her head that was telling her nothing good could come of this conversation, as she tried to stick as close to the truth through the web of lies spilling from her mouth. "We don't have a lot in common, I suppose."
"He likes you, I can tell. The night of my dinner party, he couldn't keep his eyes from you, darling," the older woman said with a fondness toward her that made Angie feel even guiltier.
She felt a flush of crimson climb up her cheekbones. "I'm sure you're exaggerating. We don't know each other that well. Just from the salon, really."
"He must have wanted you to be with him that night. I just don't understand. Did he even give a hint he might like to see you again?"
A rock crawled up and lodged itself in her throat. Mrs. Rule seemed to have a one-track mind today and Angie couldn't distract her as she usually did. Damn Damian for not wanting to be honest with his mother! Answering this question would be a full-blown lie, and it was making her very uncomfortable. "No, he didn't really mention much that night. I got the idea that he only needed an escort for the evening."