Rafe’s face crumples, not because I’m denying him something but because he feels like shit. I know him so well. I know when he feels awful about something, and I can tell he truly does. Making him feel bad wasn’t my intent, but it’s a bit of a balm to me right now that I think maybe he at least understands.
“But…” I continue because while he scares the shit out of me with the potential for more heartbreak, I can’t deny that I’m happy to have him back in my life. I may have rocked his world at the pond today, but he turned mine upside down and inside out. I’m feeling all kinds of trampy right now that I want him again. “Maybe we can put some boundaries in place to help me feel a bit safer with you.”
Rafe frowns, the implication heavy that he’s a danger to me. “Like what?”
“We make it about sex only,” I say with a slight shrug.
“Sex only, huh?”
“Well, yeah. I mean...that was pretty great at the pond, right? And it took your mind off your troubles. And I totally enjoyed the hell out of it, so we can have a sex-only relationship.”
Rafe takes a step back and withdraws his hand from mine. “Yeah...that’s not going to work for me.”
I blink at him in surprise. “Why ever not?”
He scrubs a hand over his face in frustration and sighs. “Because I need your friendship, too, Poppy. You’ve helped me so much already with dealing with my dad. I mean, if I have to choose between friendship and sex, I would choose…and I feel like a total girl saying this, the friendship.”
My lips quirk upward as my head tilts. “Well, of course, we can be friends, too. You know I love your dad, and I’m always going to be here to support him, you, and your mother. You have that.”
Rafe’s expression turns contemplative for a moment, his eyes shadowing skeptically. “So, let me get this straight... We’re friends again, and we can have no-strings sex?”
“Friends with benefits,” I reply with a brilliant smile. “It’s a win-win situation for us both.”
Rafe chuckles and shakes his head. He peers down at me, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. Instead, he pivots to walk back into the kitchen. “You’re a strange one, Calliope Ramirez. I guess it’s why I adore you so much.”
“You can’t say things like that,” I point out as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out two bottles of beer.
“Oh, right,” he drawls with a sly look. “That might imply something deeper than just friends with benefits.”
“Exactly,” I reply pertly, accepting the beer he holds out to me. I twist the cap and give him an appraising look. “Want to have sex now or later?”
“Why now, of course,” he replies seriously, setting his bottle of beer down on the counter. “Here? Bedroom? Couch? Floor? So many choices.”
I giggle and set my beer down, too. “Let’s start with the bedroom.”Chapter 9RafeIt’s sort of like old times. Dinner at the Ramirez house. They invited my parents and me over, and Calliope is here, too, of course. I can’t count the number of times throughout my childhood that we ate over here or they came to our house. The Ramirezes and the Simmonses were lifelong friends, their kids growing closer and closer as each year passed.
Tonight is the first time I’ve seen Mateo and Danielle Ramirez since I returned to Raleigh, though. Although I did see them infrequently over the years when I managed a quick visit to see my parents. They are as warm and welcoming as ever, not seeming to hold any grudges against me for breaking their daughter’s heart eight years ago. Of course, I have no clue exactly what they know about the situation, but if I were a betting man, I’d say they know everything. Calliope is incredibly close to both her mom and dad and I expect they helped her pick up the pieces when I shattered her.
I also expect one of the reasons they might have put that all aside, making me feel welcome in their home right now, is because my dad is dying. Mateo is definitely the type of father that would take me aside and threaten to kick my ass for hurting his daughter, but he’s also a good man. He’s probably acting with some type of restraint, thinking that I’m facing a set of terrible circumstances right now.
Regardless, we have a great time. Danielle makes Mateo’s favorite Puerto Rican dish of arroz con gandules and fried plantains. Growing up, it was one of my favorites, too.
I know I’m not the only one who notices my dad picking at his food, not because he doesn’t like it but because his appetite is at an all-time low. He seems frailer today than he did yesterday and the day before, and I wonder if there will be any good days left.