Page 94 of Outspoken

My statement perks him up, and he looks way too eager. “Oh, you want romance?”

I open and close my mouth a few times, feeling caught, before finally turning away. “No it’s…You’re just a dork. That’s all.” I grab his pants off the floor and toss them at his face. “Dress yourself and stop looking so cocky.”

He chuckles and then stands to dress.

I don't give him much time before unlocking and opening the door. A woman is leaning against the wall across from me, waiting for the bathroom. She looks past my shoulder as Miguel messes with his waistband. He's still topless.

She stares a moment in awe, then turns an icy gaze to me. “Lucky bitch.”

I press my lips together to stop myself from grinning.Yeah, maybe I am.

Then I walk down the hallway, and Miguel catches up as he’s pulling on his tank top. Weaving through the packed house, I let him follow behind until we’re outside. Then he leads me to where he parked his car and we get in.

The ride back is heavy with silence. It’s not uncomfortable, though—it’s soothing. We don’t need to say anything, just remain next to each other.

As I watch the city pass by outside the car windows, glimpsing the ocean in the distance, my body grows heavier and heavier. My legs get more restless with every mile closer to Jackie’s, to Brody’s—every mile deeper into the reality of what I did tonight.

I broke my sobriety—broke everyone’s trust. I broke Paige and Brody's faith in me. And I still worry Miguel will see me differently now, though he didn’t react to my fuck-up the way I expected.

I want to ask him why. I also don’t, so I remain quiet until he pulls to a stop in Jackie’s driveway. He must sense that I’m not ready to get out because he shuts the car off and sits in the dark with me.

I try to use a deep breathing technique while noting things around me—try to stay in the present and out of my jumbled mind—but my anxiety eats a hole in my stomach anyway.

Miguel’s voice cuts through the darkness. “I won’t tell Brody about the drinking.”

“Why?” I say softly. “He’s going to ask because he knows I hide stuff. He trusts you to tell him.”

“It’s your decision. I’m probably breaking a lot of bro codes, but I’ll always pick your side.”

I gaze out the car window at a cat stalking something in the shadows. So much lurks in the shadows, and I’m usually alone in them. “But you’ll think I’m the worst if I don’t confess.”

“I’d never think that.” He reaches over the console to take my hand. “It’s cool if you don’t tell him. My opinion of you won’t change.”

I squeeze his hand and then pull away, opening the door. “My opinion of myself will.”

I step from the car into the chilly night air. Goosebumps dance across my arms as I walk to the porch and up the four creaky steps to the front door. A bone-crushing exhaustion sets in and I’m back to feeling empty. I don’t know what I’ll say to Brody or Paige—I’ll think about everything more in the morning.

Miguel follows, keeping a few feet of distance.

I place my hand on the doorknob. The sensible thing to do is to thank him for the ride home and the great sex, and then cut the cord. Our back-and-forth game drives me a bit nuts, so we should end this and stop showing up in each other’s lives.

That’s what I should do.

My mouth, apparently, has a different idea.

Hugging my waist, I say, “Um, thank you. Thanks for coming to get me. I was wondering…I mean, I enjoyed tonight. Not the drinking, but I enjoyed my time with you…when we…” I turn around to glance at him. His eyes are too hopeful, so I need to be firmer about what I’m proposing.

Straightening myself, I continue. “Listen, sex with you was great and exactly what I needed. I’m dealing with a lot of shit and just needed that escape. If you’re okay continuing to be that for me, like my friend with benefits, I’m okay with it too. But you can't get clingy or emotionally intense or read into anything we do. I just want sex with no relationship drama. And you can’t text me. I’ll text you. And we’re not going to start dating or hanging out except to have sex. I know those are a lot of conditions, so is that something you’re—”

“Yes.”

I frown at his quick response.

He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the night sky. “I mean, cool. Yeah. I’m up for whatever. I have a lot going on too, so yeah…just text me sometime. Or don't.”

“Okay, well, thanks again for coming to pick me up. I really appreciate it.”

He nods, moving closer. “Always.”

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