Hate to Date You (Dating #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,42

he admits.

“Scared of what?” I ask incredulously.

“I don’t know. Of having sex with my sister’s best friend.” He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, staring straight ahead while I gape at him for a moment, until I nearly trip over a rock on the sidewalk.

“What’s the big deal about that?” I ask once I’ve recovered my words. His admission blanked my brain, I can’t lie.

“You’re a part of my life, whether I like it or not. We’re connected because of Caroline, but it was like I forgot myself that night. Forgot all about the connection.” We stop in front of Sweet Dreams, facing one another. “All I wanted was you.”

I cross my arms, already annoyed. Yes, he apologized, but I wasn’t lying when I said he needed to grovel. And no way am I giving in to him so quickly after that apology, I don’t care how sincere it was. “If this is some sort of tactic on your part to have sex with me again tonight, it’s not going to work.”

“Damn. And here I was, hoping against hope.” He smiles, and though I can tell he’s joking, I’m still irritated.

Reaching out, I poke him in the chest. In his very firm, very muscular chest. I keep doing that. I’m sure it’s a subconscious excuse for me to touch him. “The Caroline connection is why we shouldn’t do anything again. We’ll mess this up, and it’ll become awkward. Besides, I’m not good at relationships.”

I’ve never really said that out loud before, and again, I’m having a liberating moment. I know it’s true, though. I’m not a relationship type girl. Oh, I’ve tried. Multiple times. But I get bored. I prefer having a little crush, making the chase, or him chasing me. Once I’ve got him, I’m over it.

Over. It.

Does that make me a terrible person? Maybe. At least I’m aware of my faults, and that’s a good thing.

“Neither am I,” he admits.

“No kidding.” I poke him in the chest again, and with lightning-fast reflexes, he grabs hold of my wrist, keeping my arm pressed against him.

“Doesn’t that make it perfect then? You’re not good at it. I’m not good at it. We know what we want from each other.”

“And what do we want from each other?”

He raises a brow. “No-strings-attached sex?”

My entire body reacts to his words, the look on his face. His offer is tempting. I have been feeling lonely lately, thanks to my year-long dry spell. Not that I would ever tell Carter, but I haven’t had sex since…

The last time I had it with him.

“Sounds dangerous,” I murmur.

“What’s so dangerous about it? I said no strings. No expectations. We’re friends. We’re roommates. We’re people who occasionally have sex. Together.” He smiles, looking very pleased with himself. “Sounds like the ideal situation to me.”

It does sound pretty ideal. In the most illogical way ever.

Pushing past him, I start walking up the stairs that lead up to my apartment. Our apartment. Whatever. “Quit fooling yourself. There are always strings, Carter,” I tell him from over my shoulder.

He follows after me, right on my heels. “Not with me. I have zero expectations. You could meet another guy, the love of your life, and I’ll let you go.”

“Gee, thanks.” I pull my keys out of my bag, hating how—weird his words just made me feel.

He’d give me up that easily?

“I’m serious, Stel. I’m not the relationship kind, and I’m definitely not about to get married anytime soon, if ever.” We’re both standing in front of the door, and Carter gives a mock shiver, like what he just said scared the heebie jeebies out of him.

Specifically the word married.

“Me either. Who even needs to get married these days? It’s completely unnecessary.” I turn the key and push open the door, shifting out of the way to let Carter inside. He shuts the door behind him as I go to one of the table lamps and flick it on, illuminating the room.

“Your traditional Italian family would probably freak the fuck out if they heard you,” Carter says, leaning against the door.

“You’re so right,” I say with a sigh as I hook my bag on the back of one of the dining chairs. “They’re always on me, especially my mom and nonna. Asking when I’m going to find someone and settle down.”

We both make disgusted faces.

“Think about it,” Carter says, his voice soft. Ever so slightly seductive. He’s good, I’ll give him that. “My offer. Occasional sex. No strings. We’ll