“We haven’t seen each other since high school.”
“Yeah, but still. We’re old friends.”
“Old friends. Old buddies. Old pals. Who fucked last night. Hard.”
“Would it have made it less weird if we’d fucked soft?”
“Less weird, maybe, but also less fun.”
“You liked it.” Chris narrowed his eyes at her.
“You know I did.”
“How much did you like it?”
He moved in closer to her.
“Now don’t do that,” she said. “I already feel kind of bad for using you as my rebound guy. Don’t force me to reuse you.”
“What if I want to be reused?”
“Do you?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Chris, I’m being serious.” She plopped down on the bed and grabbed a pillow to cling to. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her. With the slight gray dust from the demolished fireplace in his hair and his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, he looked very manly. And handsome. And sexy. And a lot of other things she shouldn’t think about while trying not to have sex with him.
“Tell me what’s happening in your brain right now,” he said. His voice was calm as was his demeanor. No pressure. Just curiosity.
“Tug-of-war.”
“Tell me more.”
“I’m worried about being a bad person,” she said.
“You aren’t a bad person. You’ve never been a bad person. You couldn’t be a bad person if you tried, although...” He paused and raised one finger. “I might like to see you try.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
“A bad person uses people for their own ends, right?” she asked.
“I’m being used today.”
“By me?”
“By the hotel. They hired me to do a job. They are using me.”
“They are paying you.”
“Payment comes in many forms.”
“Well, I care about you. You know, since we’re old buddies.”
“Old pals.”
“Old friends.”
“We’re really not that old,” Chris said.