Page 130 of Story of My Life
“We weren’t exactly thinking clearly at the time,” I pointed out.
“Oh my God. Are you seriously sitting here thinking that the sex was so good I’m automatically going to demand a committed relationship with you?”
Yes. But I was smart enough not to actually say it out loud.
“I just want to make sure we’re still on the same page,” I said hastily.
“The ego on you, Campbell Bishop. Let me put your mind at ease. You’re very good at sex. So good that I wouldn’t mind revisiting every flat surface in this house with you. However, you are not relationship material. You’re moody. Your communication skills are nonexistent. Half the time you act like it’s physically painful to be around other humans?—”
“Okay. All right. You can stop with the laundry list of flaws. You’re no peach yourself.”
She wielded a chip menacingly. “You automatically go on the attack instead of using your damn ears. I don’t want a relationship with you. You’d be way too much work, and I’ve already got enough irons in the fire. I don’t need to take on another project.”
Despite the fact that she was agreeing with me, I was offended. I opened my mouth to argue, but she stuffed a chip in it instead.
“Chew on this before you ruin everything.”
“There’s nothing for me to ruin,” I insisted.
Hazel rolled her eyes. “Listen. I’m gonna cut you some slack because it’s obvious you’re freaking out over how awesome I am naked. The bottom line is, I have no interest in pursuing anythingbutthe physical side of things with you.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she just hurt my feelings.
“You want more sex,” I said slowly.
“You’re good at it, and you’re convenient.”
That was not exactly a ringing endorsement of my existence as a man. But it was exactly what I wanted. So why did I feel…whatever this weird, unsettled feeling was?
“But consent is important,” she continued. “So it’s up to you. I like sex. I really liked it with you. We both have a lot going on, and it sounds like the last thing either one of us wants or needs is a relationship. Ergo, we could continue our strings-free sex-having for the foreseeable future until we get tired of meaningless orgasms.”
I didn’t see how it was possible for anyone to get tired of the kind of orgasms I’d just experienced.
“We should think about it,” I decided. Maybe Hazel didn’t feel like her brain was sex-scrambled, but sitting next to her while she wore nothing but my shirt was messing with my judgment.
“That’s fair,” she agreed. “We’ll take a couple of days. Problem temporarily solved?”
“Yeah,” I said.
Hazel reached for the remote. But I stilled her hand with mine. “I don’t think we should tell anyone about this,” I blurted out, bracing for her reaction.
I knew exactly where I was landing on the official Asshole Rating Scale. First, I told her the only interest I had in her was her body and what it could do for me. Now I was asking her to keep it quiet, which made it sound like I was ashamed.
“Hard agree,” she said, pulling her hand free and turning the sound back on.
I sat there for nearly thirty seconds before muting the show again. “You don’t have a problem with that? You don’t think it seems like I’m embarrassed or ashamed or something?”
“Well,nowI do,” she teased.
“I’m serious.”
She shifted toward me, eyes narrowing. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re freaking out.”
“I’m not freaking out,” I insisted. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Cam.” She settled a hand on my knee. My stupid cock stirred, apparently recovering faster than I thought possible.
“What?”
