Page 118 of Reconciling With the Rival

Three smiling faces meet my gaze.

“I take that as a yes,” I laugh as Paige links her arm with mine. As the sun sets, the four of us drive with the windows down and the music way too loud.

35

Hope Is A Dangerous Thing

I am halfway tofucking pissed. I swear I only had a few pints, but one morphed into two, which somehow transformed into six.

It has been a stressful few weeks, and besides all the crap with my dad happening, a certain coworker of mine has infiltrated my mind and won’t fucking leave.

I’m starting to think sex with no strings isn't going to be possible soon, but I think that’s only something I’ve thought about.

Ella showed up at my apartment the other day begging for sex, but I declined and took care of her for the night. Then, when we woke up the next morning, our limbs tangled around one another, I took care of her then too.

She’s fucking my head up, and the only way I know how to get rid of her is to drink until the only thing I can see is darkness or the world spinning. At this point, I’ll take either.

It’s not that I have feelings for her—we both agreed this was a means to an end, and it will be.

It’s going to be really fucking hard to watch her date and know she’s fucking other people. I’ll still be around since we still work together, and the fact that she’s best friends with my sister. I’ll have to hear from Alissa how happy she is when she finds someone who’s perfect for her.

It pisses me the fuck off that it won’t be me.

Thus, the reason I agreed to Brody’s proposal for a drink. He’s not nearly at the same level as me, but he’s getting there. Brad is here though, and he’s as trashed as I am.

“So, is Leo Zimmerman going to try and pick up a lady tonight, or is he too busy drinking his feelings away?” Brody asks, his arm slung around my shoulder.

“No women for me tonight, lad.”

“And why is that? Every person in here keeps staring at you. There’s not enough for the rest of us.” Brad tries to smack my arm, but he misses and almost spills his beer. “Shit.”

“I’m seeing someone, but it’s just physical.”

It’s just sex but for some reason, it feels like more. Something happened recently that caused the switch for me, but as hard as I try, I don’t think I’m capable of casual anymore.

Ella coming over to my place—her coming tome—when she had a rough day made me think I’m capable of more than one night for her. That maybe I could be the person she runs to when things start to feel like too much.

But hope is a dangerous thing—especially when it comes to us. We may have reconciled in the past few weeks, but that doesn't mean anything. We still argue and bicker. We still play gameswith one another, and I like that. I like what our relationship has come to.

I want more, but I know I can’t have it. We only have one more slip-up for our fucking pact, and I’m willing to never fuck Ella again if it means she keeps running toward me instead of away for once.

“Just sex, huh? Is that a personal preference, or can most girls not handle more than one night with you?” Brody laughs as he sips his beer, and I take a long swig to try and combat what his stupid statement made me feel.

“It was a mutual agreement, mate. No strings attached.”

“And you like her?” Brad asks me.

I shake my head. “She’s a fucking firecracker, but all it will ever be is sex.”No matter how fucking confused I am about it right now.

“A firecracker, huh?”

“Yup,” I say, finishing my pint. I think that was my seventh? I honestly haven't a single fucking clue. All I know is that I haven't pictured my firecracker in my mind since I finished it. The beer is starting to settle, and all I can feel is the hum of the music in my bones, and I love it.

God, she’s so pretty though. I hate that I like how she points her finger in my face all the time. I hate that her hair wraps perfectly around my fist. I hate it all so much, and it’s all I can think about.

Sheis all I can think about.

I guess that beer didn't really help.

---