Wild Sexy Thing (Wild Sexy 1)
“Of course not.” He got off the bed as well and stood facing me, naked, unselfconscious, and of course, devastatingly perfect. “I care about you.”
“No, you don’t,” I replied, even though, somehow, I knew he did. I wasn’t ready for that. I just couldn’t handle it, not yet. “It’s the sex,” I continued. “We’re good together, so maybe that’s why you’re getting confused about what this is.”
“I’m not confused.”
“Yes, you are. Why can’t we just be casual? Why can’t we just fuck until this attraction fades then call it a day? Why does it have to be anything more than that?”
“Do you really think this ‘attraction’ is going to fade?”
I didn’t reply.
“Daphne, this last weekend, I didn’t want you to leave, and today—in fact, all week—I wanted to see you, and not just because of the sex. I don’t like to lie to myself. I don’t think we can be casual.”
The implication of what he was saying was something I wanted. Yes, I’d wondered what it would be like to really be with him. A part of me wanted it, but a part of me held back, clawing desperately to regain a foothold in the place that was familiar, the place where I was alone but safe.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t like to lie to myself either,” I said, watching as he pulled on his briefs then his jeans. “You told me yourself you only do flings and hookups. I’m supposed to believe that’s changed?” I folded my arms. “Or do you get some extra kicks by convincing women you want more when you actually don’t? I’m not interested in falling for you so that when you choose to walk away, you can have my broken heart to feed your ego.”
“To feed my ego?” He frowned. “Come on, Daphne, do you really think I need broken hearts to feed my ego? This… You’re not a game to me.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that, coming from Mr. Flings and Hookups?”
“Yeah, because that’s so different from you.”
“At least I’m not trying to present myself as someone who wants more when it’s clearly not true.”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
I was quiet as he pulled on his shirt and buttoned it quickly before picking up his jacket and slinging it over his arm. He walked to the door and paused.
“You know what I think? I think you’re afraid. You’re afraid of facing up to the fact that you have no idea how to be in a relationship. You’re willing to barricade yourself inside the walls of your self-imposed celibacy to keep from facing reality.”
“Thanks, doctor,” I said, rolling my eyes. Inside, I was trembling, afraid of how off balance he was making me feel, afraid because I knew what he was saying was true. “Are you done psychoanalyzing me now?”
“Actually, no.” His face hardened. “It can only be two extremes for you, casual sex with people you don’t care about or no sex at all so you don’t have to learn how to care. There’s no middle ground where we explore the possibility of being together.”
“No, you’re right—there isn’t.” I swallowed. I didn’t want to think about what he was saying. I didn’t want to want to be with him, to care about him and one day watch him leave. “There is no middle ground, so I might as well go back to the one extreme that always worked for me.”
His jaw worked. “Daphne…”
“Actually, thanks for analyzing me. A year of therapy didn’t even achieve close to what you have. Since the celibacy is obviously a fool’s errand and unsustainable in the long run, I might as well go back to living the best way I know how. It’s a lot more fun anyway, and I don’t have to worry about getting hurt or being left behind—though I doubt you of all people could ever understand what it feels like to lose someone you love, to be left with nobody and no one.”
He was quiet. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know.”
He smiled wryly. “Have fun, Daphne. Have a nice life.”
I shrugged, defiant. “I will.”
He stood looking at me for a long moment, and then he closed the distance between us and covered my lips with his. The kiss was short, hot, and left me panting, but before I could start to get my breath back, he was gone. I waited until I heard the main door shut before I collapsed onto the carpet and hugged my knees to my chest.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel in control. I felt like everything I’d ever told myself about being on my own was a lie, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
Everything’s fine, I told myself. Now, the haze of our sexual attraction would pass. He could go back to his wild life, and I could go back to…
What exactly?
Waiting? Keeping myself under lock and key because…because Jason was right and I was too afraid to face up to the fact that I didn’t know how to be in a relationship? The fact that, deep down, I was still afraid the only person I knew how to be was that girl all alone in the world, drowning her loneliness in sex?