When you grow up without something, the lack of it is always with you. I don’t want to explain to Piper the irrefutable fact that I’ve reached thirty-five without ever being in a real adult relationship. I’ve outright avoided them. Regina was the only association that lasted longer than a month, and when she talked to the press, I was relieved to have an excuse to break it off.
Piper pulls her hand back. “That’s not true.”
“You’ve extolled my virtues before, but the things you think are generous are, in fact, mercenary. I make decisions to get what I want. I’m incapable of true affection.”
“Come on, Oliver. We slept together.” She pauses into a weighted silence. “You know what I mean—we slept next to each other. We cuddled. Pretty sure that’s affection.”
“I’m not a cuddler.” Not with anyone else.
“You were with me.”
I can’t refute it. “I wanted to see you.” I swallow. “There you have it. That’s the answer to both of your questions, both times. Do you have any more?”
She shifts inexorably closer. Her mouth opens and then closes. I can almost see the thoughts scrolling through her head. She wants to know more. She wants me to expound, but I won’t. I can’t. It’s too much. She’s not ready.
“Maybe you don’t think you’re capable of caring for someone, but would you be willing to try?” The heat of her fingers reaches my skin through the fabric of my shirt.
“What does that mean? Try what?”
“We’re friends, right? Maybe we can be friends with… extras?”
My whole body tightens with visceral need. She can’t know what she’s offering. It’s like flying. It’s beautiful and terrifying—freedom and fear in the palm of her hand.
“What precisely does ‘extra’ entail?”
Her fingers flex on my arm. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe we should discuss the exact parameters of your offer.”
“Do you need a contract in writing?” she asks.
The thought has merit. “I’m intrigued.”
She chuckles, the sound low and warm. “You would be.”
The corner of my lip twitches, and her eyes dip to my mouth. My need to accept what she’s offering is a primal, howling force. I want it more than I want my next breath.
But I also don’t want to be some temporary fling. I crave her as much as I fear her. I don’t want her to see inside all my dark spaces and find me lacking.
“You don’t know what you’re suggesting.”
She pulls back, her hands on her hips. “I know exactly what I’m suggesting. I’m not an idiot, Oliver.”
Surprised at the vehement response, I try to read her face in the dark. “I’m not rejecting the offer.”
“You aren’t?”
As if I could. I can tell myself that I have a choice, but I don’t. I never have. Piper isn’t merely a choice—she’s an absolute. “No. But I have a question for you as well. Why me?”
“What?”
“Why me? Why do you want the ‘extra’ with me?” She could choose anyone.
She ducks her head. “We’re attracted to each other. You can’t deny it.”
No, I can’t.
She wraps her arms around her middle. “You’re the only person who understands—who I thought understood, anyway. Ben isn’t just the last person I was with—he is the only person I’ve been with. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll never be able to move on, to move past what he put me through. I’m not asking for anything serious.”