Page 58 of Friends with Benefits

‘Oh, God, longer would definitely not be necessary. I don’t really hang around. Six months would be the longest I’ve stayed anywhere since… for a long time.’

‘Well, what do you say to six months?’

I wanted to say no. Something about this man set my alarm bells ringing. A sexy as sin man who valued family and friends, who wasn’t ready to flee to some remote part of the world next week. I wanted to run. Yet, the word that left my mouth was, ‘Okay.’

That delectable smile curved on one side of his lips again. ‘I’ll have a word with Alex about wearing more clothes.’

‘I’d appreciate that.’

The next day, I signed a lease and Jake took me shopping for furniture. We spent night after night building flat pack things for my room. After that, when I made my own soft furnishings, I made him some too. I had a home. I had a friend. I had things to call my own. For the first time since my mum died, I had a bed that I actually owned.

When my six months were up, I signed for another six, and another six, and another. My small roots grew deep into London, deep into Jake, deep into a version of me I had wanted since I was an orphaned girl. Jake became my roots and he became my best friend. I told him about my life and he told me everything about his. We picked each other up when we were down. We cared for each other when we were sick. And he became the wind that blew just enough between my branches to keep life interesting. I had roots and leaves. I was a complete tree. And I started to feel again. I let myself feel just enough to remind myself I was human.

Jake became the most precious thing in the world to me and I would never, will never, risk losing him.

16

JAKE

The alarm on my cell phone vibrates but I catch it quickly, since I’ve hardly slept. Jess is tucked under my arm, her head resting on my chest, where she’s been since the third time we made love last night. She looks so peaceful, I don’t want to wake her.

I take her in for a few more minutes, listening to the song of the waves through the open bedroom window. The black of the night is beginning to turn to a dark shade of blue as the moon begins to make way for the sun.

I’ve been here, laying still for hours, trying not to wake Jess, as my mind exploded with too many thoughts to get a handle on any. I said we made love. And we did. There’s no question. The way she looked into my soul as we moved together, the way the universe seemed to shrink until it was only us, in our moment. Or, perhaps our moment felt as large as the universe.

The thing is, if I felt it, she must have felt it too. Maybe not as hard and powerful. Maybe it didn’t consume her completely. But she must have felt the shift between us. We weren’t two friends treating each other to the best time any person could give another. We were more than that, so much more. The playfulness that is usually between us, the frantic heat, they were replaced with what felt like lightning bolts coming from my heart to hers. She was part of me. I was part of her. We were two halves of a whole.

And if she felt it, her instinct will tell her to run. That’s who Jess is. She’s a runner. Living with me in London is the longest she’s stayed in one place in her entire adult life. As I lay in bed, I wondered why. Why had she chosen to stay in London? Chosen to stay anywhere, finally? I questioned why we ever started sleeping together. And I wondered how much champagne she had yesterday, whether, when she woke in a panic, she would use it as an excuse.

So, when I heard the others come back from the pub around one in the morning, I slipped out of Jess’s hold and I went to Brooks’ room to put a plan in motion.

The plan is simply this: distract her long enough to get her over the initial panic. Then, I’ve no damn clue. But I know, if she wakes and starts thinking about whether she could have stronger feelings for me than friendship, she’ll think about her parents. She’ll think about her fear of falling in love. Of loving someone so much, it can bring an end to everything.

‘Jess. Babe, wake up.’ I stroke her cheek and press my lips to her hair. My heart bursts when she rubs a knuckle into her eye and lifts her head, completely disoriented.

‘What’s wrong? What time is it?’

She glances down at my chest and I see a subtle shift in her eyes, as if the realization that she slept with me in every sense of the word and she wasn’t wasted dawns on her. It’s the confirmation I need. I’m making the right decision here, even if it involves forcing her to rise at four in the morning.

Before she has a chance to think or say another word, I lift her to sit and talk-whisper instructions, trying not to wake anyone else in the house. ‘You need to get up; I’m taking you somewhere.’

‘But. What?’

I can’t resist. I lean on the bed and steal a kiss. ‘You are insanely adorable when you’re sleepy.’ I take her hand and tug her from the bed. ‘Up. Now. Put swimwear under your clothes.’

She stands on the spot, staring at me.

I clap my hands. ‘Babe, let’s go, let’s go. Chop-chop.’

‘What the…?’ She drops her hands to her hips. ‘I know you did not clap your hands at me.’

‘Finally, she’s awake. Get to it.’

I leave her tutting as I make quick work of cleaning my teeth. She comes into the bathroom, wearing only a bikini, and I greedily take her in. How in God’s name did I resist her for so damn long?

She puts paste on her brush and scowls at me as she cleans her teeth next to me. I spit. She spits. Then she slips her feet into sandals as I pull on sneakers.

I grab the keys to Brooks’ truck from the drawer where I left them after talking with him a few hours ago, and I lead Jess outside.

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