Shame Me Not
“Stay with me.” Her eyebrows rose to her hairline and I pushed on before she could object. “I live downtown, so still close. I’ll come with you every day after I get off work and help you go through everything. But stay with me so you’re not alone, and I can help to get it done faster,” I said in a rush.
“Kev,” she laughed, clearly thinking I was joking.
“As a friend. Don’t lock yourself in here by yourself. And don’t waste money on a hotel when you have a place to stay. You can stay with me as a friend. We’ll play games and trash talk. Just like old times.”
“A friend?” She lifted an eyebrow.
“Anything you want. Or don’t want.”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip and stared back up at the ceiling, as though the ceiling fan had all the answers to life. “Kev, we’ve been through so much. And I’m a mess right now. I mean I just buried my mom. I’m in no state to . . . to do more.” Her voice trembled over the words. “And after what just happened, I can’t ask you to just be my friend. I mean the way we ended things before all this.”
“You need a friend right now and that’s what I want to be for you.” I would’ve agreed to anything to keep her close. I wanted her, I always would, but her mom had just died, and I couldn’t expect her to be ready for me. I’d give her time. I just needed to be close as I did it. “Come on, Ana. Just let me help. I mean, Shayla will probably offer to stay and help if you’re here alone, and you won’t have an excuse to turn her away. Then you’ll be stuck here, praying over everything,” I said, trying to make her laugh. I was banking on how alone she probably felt, and I didn’t care. I wanted an excuse to be around her.
“Ugh, you win. Anything but the praying,” she laughed. “But just as friends.” She pointed at me with a serious look tinged with worry—worry if it would be okay between us.
“Okay, but can you remind me of that when your tits aren’t in my face and your cum isn’t still on my dick.” I couldn’t resist teasing her.
“Kevin!” She rewarded me with slaps to the chest.
I rolled away, blocking her. “Okay, okay. Fine.”
“Just friends.”
However, she wasn’t done with her punishment because she stood, unashamed of her nudity this time, and walked to the bathroom. Her struggle to fight off the smile, let me know she enjoyed the groan I couldn’t have held back.
“But feel free to walk around nude. Actually, I’m making it a policy. My house is now a nudist colony.”
She flipped me off, but turned to smile before disappearing behind the door.
Chapter Forty-Four
Ana
Just friends, just friends, just friends.
Just. Friends.
Over and over, I repeated the words as I stared at a topless Kevin, sweating and moving boxes. His arms bulging with every movement and his abs contracting with every exerted breath. Fuck, he was hot. Literally, too, with the way the sweat glistened down his chest, past the rippling abs and lost to the treasure-land below his belt.
Thankfully he saved me from the hormones overtaking my body when he turned the corner to carry the box downstairs, out of my room.
The midsummer heat seemed more appropriate for the equator than the Midwest. We’d even missed the worst of the heat by coming in the evening after he got off work. He’d been taking off early most days to get to the house because he didn’t trust me to not come by myself.
I’d snuck over the first day while he was at work. He’d found me crying on the living room couch and demanded I stayed put until he could help me. I hadn’t argued because I hadn’t wanted to. Just having his presence eased the weight of clearing out the house alone. The jokes and sexy view helped too.
Four years apart and it was like no time away at all. We picked up right where we’d left off, just like we had in college.
Minus the sex.
Other than the first night.
God, it’d been amazing. I loved it and hated it.
However, Kev had known I’d needed it. The outlet, the loss of control, the responsibility off my shoulders.
It was like being on a diet of no sweets for years and you’d convinced yourself that a sweet potato was dessert, but then you have cake and knew that you were a dirty liar, because hot dayum, that cake was better than you remembered. You knew it was wrong and shouldn’t have it because it was bad for you, but it was just too good to deny.
I hadn’t let myself try to find anyone after Andrew. We’d been together for two years and he was so patient with me when I couldn’t orgasm. I’d faked it and tried endlessly after so many failed attempts, but he knew. When he’d finally sat me down and asked me what I’d needed, pleaded with me to tell him what it was, I’d choked back the truth, and knew our relationship had reached its end. I couldn’t have kept lying to him, and he didn’t deserve a woman who couldn’t be truthful.