Page 43 of The Trade

“Yes?”

“Of course there’s another kind,” he grumbles, barely meeting my gaze. “There are nice guys out there who just so happen to be athletes.”

“Oh, please.” I scoff at his defense. “We’ve gone over this. I’m so tired of nice guys.”

He narrows his eyes, a challenge flickering in their depths. “Why’s that?”

“You know who was a nice guy? Fred Tomlin,” I insist, my voice rising with frustration. “You know who else were nice guys? My last two ex-boyfriends. Want to know what they all had in common?”

He leans back in his chair, amusement softening the sharp edges of his features. “I’m sure you’re gonna tell me either way.”

“They were all terribly boring, terribly self-involved, and equally as terrible in bed.”

His chuckle is short-lived. “Jesus, Jade.”

“What? I’m serious,” I say, defensive and exasperated. “At first, I thought it was just me. Like, I don’t know, I’m a tough nut to crack or something. But no, I can get myself off just fine alone.”

His brows shoot up in surprise, but he remains silent, waiting for me to continue.

I plow ahead, ignoring the heat creeping up my neck. “You know exactly what I mean,” I say, more for my benefit than his. “That’s the whole reason Shan suggested the athlete thing in the first place. We all know your reputation.”

His surprise ebbs, replaced by a stern gaze. He leans forward slightly. “So, what then, you just want to be with a guy who can get you off?”

“I guess.” My own words wobble, and I’m acutely aware of the blush flooding my cheeks. “I don’t know, I thought maybe . . . for a second, I wanted a relationship. But maybe that’s not what I need right now.”

“Oh?” The muscles in his neck twitch. “So, what, you just want a fuck buddy?”

“Would that be so terrible?”

“You can do what you want. But it’s certainly not gonna be with fucking Remington Miller, that’s for damn sure.”

“What about your roommate, Cam?” I suggest. “He seemed kind of interested.”

“Fuck no.”

I can’t help but groan at his stubbornness. “Are you just gonna veto everyone?”

He glares at me, his jaw firmly set. “Yes, Jade. If anyone’s gonna get you off, it’s gonna be me.”

“What?” I manage to squeak out, my heart pounding in my ears.

He takes a moment, licking his lips before locking his gaze on mine. “You heard me.”

“You want to . . .”

“Fuck yeah, I want to.”

I struggle to catch my breath, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air between us. “I don’t think we can be . . . fuck buddies, Theo. We’re already friends and”—I gesture to the table beside us—“study partners. It would be too messy.”

His response is immediate, almost automatic. “I can keep my shit in separate boxes.”

I shake my head, my brain buzzing with a whirlwind of thoughts. “Yeah, well, I can’t,” I admit. “Mixing sex and friendship and . . . whatever else. It’s too confusing.”

The look on his face shifts from frustration to hurt. “So, you want to fuck somebody you don’t even know?”

“I’m not sure. I’m still trying to figure out what I want, okay?”

“Sure, Jade. Whatever.”

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