Page 40 of Overtime
“Yes, something like that.”
“Remember in grad school when you told me there was no way that Ben and I were just watching TV in my room?”
“Okay well. It was… exactly like that actually.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m serious. Exactly like that. We didn’t do anything together. I just took a bath. He took a shower. At the same time, as friends do on occasion. Then I was tired and we fell asleep. In his bed, but there was a pillow wall between us. It was all very above-board, Violet, so take your judgy eyes and shove them up your—”
“Sounds like you were up late and didn’t get enough sleep. Would you like some caffeine before you say inexcusably mean things to your best friend?”
I make a face, then mimic what she just said like I’m a freaking child because it’s all I’ve got right now. I’m cranky as hell, not so much over the lack of sleep as I am the lack of sex. This thing Colt and I are doing is torture. Pure and simple. The slow drip of torment, all the hints of things that could be. The way he looks at me. The way he sounds. Watching his hand run over his cock until he came.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” She gives me the side-eye.
I follow her into the kitchen, figuring it’s time I come clean to her because at this point I need an outside opinion. A sounding board. Someone to tell me that I’ve waded in too deep and that I need to get myself back out. Because right now, I just want to cave to our little bet and call it a day.
She fixes my coffee just the way I like it with extra cream and sugar, a routine we perfected for each other when we were roomies. Whoever was more conscious in the morning was the one who handled the coffee making. This morning, judging by her perky appearance, that’s definitely her.
“So, shall I interrogate you or would you rather just fess up?”
“Depends on what I’m fessing up to.”
“Sleeping with Colt.”
“I didn’t sleep with him. The tension is high, and we agreed it would be an epic mistake to get involved again. Given that it ended so badly the last time and there’s no chance for us now either.”
“Why is there no chance?”
“He’s a quarterback who lives and breathes this city. I’m a photographer always on the road. Those things don’t mesh.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be easy…” She shrugs as she stares at me over her coffee cup.
“It would be awful. And that’s assuming we could work through all our shit from the past, and that’s a big assumption.”
“But…” She looks at me expectantly.
“But… I can’t be in the same room as him without wanting to fuck his brains out. Okay?”
“Okay, Ms. Cranky.”
“Sorry. I need my caffeine.” I take a chug of the lukewarm coffee and glance out the window. “So we made this agreement… Bet. I don’t know. Whatever you want to call it. I feel silly explaining it, but basically, we agreed we wouldn’t get physically involved. But now it’s turned into a game of brinksmanship as to who can get the other person to cave.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” I flash her a look.
“It certainly soundsinteresting.”
“Well, it’s had someinterestingresults. Anyway, I went to his place yesterday to do the pictures—”
“Did you get naked for him?”
“Topless, not fully naked. I put off doing his pictures though. I need to find a studio. That’s one of the things I need to nail down today. Can you get in touch with your friend and see if we can confirm that space, so I can get the guys scheduled? Time is running out.”
“Of course, but topless photos with him there and that didn’t end in the two of you fucking each others’ brains out?”
“No. But only because we had other kinds of fun—solo fun.”
