Page 54 of The Friend Situation

“Three. And I always think it will be different, but it never is. After the third time, I promised myself I would never do it again.”

“What about friends with benefits?” he asks.

It’s an interesting question.

“If there was chemistry and emotions could stay in check, I’d think about it, but it would come with rules,” I say.

“Like?”

“No cuddling. NoI love yous. No expectations. No sleeping in the same bed. No couplebullshit. Just fucking for pleasure only. I’ve also learned most men can’t handle a situationship. At least not with me.”

“Really?” he asks, being cocky as fuck.

“I’ve been in one before. It was great until he fell obsessively in love with me and got really jealous when I went on dates with other men. With the right person, it works. But usually, someone starts catching feelings, and it’s never me. I can separate friendship from fucking because when I walk into something like that, I know it will never work. You never start friends with benefits with someone who has actual potential. Recipe for disaster.”

He dips his hair into the water and smooths it back on his head. The tips immediately start to curl. “We should go inside and warm up.”

At the mention, the air feels colder than it did seconds earlier.

Weston swims to the edge, and I can’t help but admire the tattooed muscles that ripple across his back. He hoists himself out of the pool, striding toward the small room beyond, wrapping a towel around his waist while holding another out for me.

I follow his lead, pushing myself up from the edge. Each freezing step guides me closer to him. The instant he blankets me in the towel, our electric connection restarts.

The only thing that pulls me away from him is his phone buzzing in his pants pocket. It goes on for a little while before stopping and starting over.

“Is that yoursecretgirlfriend?” I tease, glancing at the light flashing.

“Maybe,” he replies, his voice low and husky.

Whoever is calling is insistent.

“Should you answer?” I ask, breaking away from him to fish his phone from his pocket.

I glance at the screen.

Unknown Caller.

I show it to him.

“It’s Lena.” His voice is steady, but the seriousness of the situation builds. “Since the blind item was posted, she started harassing me again.”

My heart tightens at the thought of him dealing with this. “Are you sure it’sher?”

He nods, his brows furrowing. “She used to do thiseverynight in the beginning.”

“This has to stop,” I say, determination taking hold.

“Carlee,” he warns, “don’t.”

I take a breath, and my gut twists as I answer. Someone breathes on the other end of the line, sending a chill up my spine.

“Yes,please,” I moan out.

Weston’s lips part as he watches me with intent.

“Right there. Mmhmm. Yes, baby.” I close my eyes, unable tolook at him. “Please.Please. More.Harder,” I demand. “Yes. Yes. Weston.Weston,” I whisper breathlessly, my heart racing. “Oh God, I’m so fucking close. I’m—I’m co—” I end the call and return the phone to him, my pulse quickening.

I swear his blue eyes mirror the depths of the ocean at midnight. I glance down at his towel, noticing he’s rock hard.

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