even if she were, it wouldn’t matter. A relationship with a single mom is the last thing I want to get wrapped up in. I don’t do love, and I certainly don’t do kids.
We’re just having fun until she moves out, and then we’ll move on like adults.
No harm, no foul…right?
Maya: I know you hate texting, but I had to tell you this now…
Maya: When I first moved in, I promised I’d cook you a warm meal every night, but I’m tired because someone kept me up past my bedtime last night and I’ve been dealing with old, cranky ladies all day.
Me: That’s a long-winded way to ask if I’m okay with takeout for dinner.
Maya: I’m so glad you could read between the lines.
Maya: Is that okay? I’m sorry for not cooking.
Me: I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.
Me: Takeout is fine. Anything particular in mind?
Maya: Pizza doesn’t sound bad unless you’d rather have something else.
Me: I never say no to pizza. I’m pretty sure that’s a sin or something.
Maya: Good. I’ll grab a large cheese on the way home.
Me: Cheese? Is this even really Maya?
Maya: I figured I’d save some cash on the toppings since I expect you’re bringing the meats. ;-)
I shift, and damn am I glad as hell I’m wearing pants that’ll easily conceal the bulge in my pants if someone were to look over here.
We’ve fallen into a pattern over the past several days. I come home, we have dinner together, and then we crawl into my bed to explore what makes us tick until neither of us can move.
Maya’s appetite for sex is insatiable to the point I worry I won’t be able to keep up with her.
Part of me wonders if she’s making up for all the shitty sex she’s had before. Or maybe she’s getting her fill until this inevitably ends, which is exactly what I’m doing.
Me: As long as you bring dessert…
Maya: I know I started it, but we have to stop. I’m getting turned on at work.
Me: Tease.
Maya: Funny coming from you.
Maya: See you at home, Romeo.
“Who are you texting?”
“Huh?” I peel my eyes off my screen.
Jake nods toward my phone. “You’ve been grinning like a fool for the last five minutes. You haven’t even finished your turkey sandwich yet, so I assume it’s a girl.” His lips curl in disgust as he glances down at his own meal. “Which I’m jealous of. My wife packed me peanut butter and jelly again.”
His disgust takes me back to a time when Dean used to trade his meaty sandwiches for mine because all my dad could afford was peanut butter. I couldn’t stomach it for the longest time.
But I’d take that bullet for Jake if it means it’ll distract him from asking too many questions about who I’m texting.
“Wanna trade?”
“No way.” He holds the sandwich to his chest. “She cut the crusts off, man.” He nods toward my phone again. “You’ll understand when your girl starts packing your lunch.”
“I don’t have a girl.”
He snorts. “Sure you don’t.”
“I don’t,” I insist, puffing my chest out.
“A guy doesn’t stare at his phone grinning like an idiot if he didn’t have a girl he’s talking to on the other end.” He sends me a pointed glance. “Who is she?”
“She’s no one.”
He grins. “So it is a girl.” His eyes widen. “Oh fuck, is it the hot chick from the diner? The one who’s living with you now?”
“She was texting me about dinner.” And sex. “But she’s not my girl. Just my roommate.”
“You’re telling me you haven’t slept with her yet?”
“I haven’t slept with her.”
“Wow, man.” He shakes his head. “That’s how you’re gonna do me?”
I pinch my brows together. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve worked side by side for the last five years, Brooks—I can tell when you’re blowing smoke up my ass.”
Fuck.
“All right, fine. We slept together. Big deal.”
“Big deal is damn right. She’s your roommate. That’s nothing to turn your nose up at.”
“It’s not permanent.”
“Her living there or you two fucking?”
“Both.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Right. Keep selling that shit to yourself.” He crams the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, then hops off the tailgate. “I’ll see you in there.”
I’m not selling myself anything. We both agreed it was just sex, and I mean it on my end. I’ve had friends with benefits before and walked away unscathed.
This is no different.
I’m sure of it.
13
Maya
Time is passing faster than I thought it ever could.