by Lauren Helms
I suck in a gasp. The reality of his words hits me hard, and I’m momentarily at a loss of how to answer him.
“See. I’m an asshole,” he mutters. He starts to roll away, but I push up to my elbow, yanking his arm and halting his attempt to leave the bed. Finally, we brave each other’s stare.
“If you are, then I am.” His lips press together, his eyes blaze with amusement.
“You’re not an asshole,” he tells me.
“I’m not done with you, either. I just found you. So if you can’t do long distance, then friends it is. But with benefits.” I don’t register the deal I’m offering as anything other than desperation to keep him in my life. I won’t think about how offering all of myself to someone every few weeks, for just sex, will slowly tick away at my heart. I know the more time I spend with him, the more I’ll fall. My heart is too soft. It’s not strong enough to withstand this kind of disaster waiting to happen. But I don’t care. I need Ben in my life. So I’ll take what I can get.
He narrows his eyes, all traces of humor gone. “Kelly, is that what you want?”
“Yes,” is all I allow myself to say.
He stares down at me, seeming to process my offer. It’s a stellar offer—one most guys would snag up in a heartbeat. But Ben weighs my words, thinking them through with careful consideration. And my heart shifts just a millimeter in my chest. He’s a good man.
His eyes glance at my lips, then he focuses his gaze back on my eyes. If this wasn’t such an important moment, I’d commend him for not looking further. He clears his throat. “If you’re sure, then I’ll take it.”
“I’m sure,” I tell him.
I’m sure my heart will fall completely and utterly in love with you.
His smile is devilish. He leans in to kiss me, but music from his phone interrupts the moment.
“Shit,” he mutters. He places a kiss on the tip of my nose. “That’s my warning. I’ve got to get to the airport.”
We both climb out of the bed, finding our clothes and quickly dressing. It’s disorienting to think I’ve only been in his presence for a couple of hours, yet it feels like I’ve been with him for much longer. I fear saying goodbye to him is going to feel as if we’d been with each other for weeks. I reel myself in. I’m getting ahead of myself.
The room is silent. I wait for him by the door as he gathers his suitcase and slings a heavy-duty backpack over his shoulders. He doesn’t grab my hand like I expect him to as we walk to the elevator.
Friends. Friends. Friends. I repeat the word in an attempt to trample down my disappointment.
We don’t speak until we stand just outside the hotel. He turns to me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “This isn’t goodbye, Kel. I’ll be back in a few weeks. We’ll see each other then, yeah?”
I force a smile and nod. “Yeah.”
“I’ll text you.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’ve heard that one before.”
He barks out a laugh, breaking the state of wariness between us. “I promise.”
Laughter dances in his eyes. I take him in one last time. He’s tall, dark, and handsome, his hair still messy from my fingers. His tatted-up arms are on display thanks to his simple black T-shirt. I’m still shocked at how much of a contradiction he is. His looks scream bad boy, but he’s so nice and good. And a bit nerdy. He grunts as I draw my eyes back up to his face, his scruff nearly causing my mouth to water.
“Fuck, Kelly,” he mummers and pulls me into him for a deep, wildly inappropriate kiss. Kissing him back, all logical thought slips away, and I forget we’d just decided to be friends. We’ll see each other when he returns, but this isn’t by any means, a romantic relationship. But I guess this friendship includes sexy as hell goodbye kisses.
He pulls away, his cocky grin in place while I remain breathless.
“Bye, Kel.” He winks and hops into the waiting Uber.
Just like that, my new friend is gone. I stare after the black sedan for a moment too long and watch it turn the corner. Shaking myself out of the trance, I head to my old apartment.
This will work.
This will be fine.
Now I have something to look forward to next month.
I’ll be fine.
I tell myself the same things over and over, even though I worry we’ll fall into the same broken record we’ve become. He won’t call and we won’t see each other again. But, I remember I have his number now, and if we truly want to be friends, the communication goes both ways.
Yet not even an hour later, I get an unexpected text. One that has me grinning from ear to ear.
Ben: Just got to the airport and wanted to be sure to keep my promise. This is me, texting you. Miss you already, friend.
The next morning at brunch with my cousin and aunt, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out while my cousin talks about work and I can’t contain the smile.
Ben: Made it home. Long flight. Thought of you the whole way home.
Me: Glad you’re home.
Ben: Gonna catch some ZZZs before the team meeting this afternoon. Text ya later.
Me: Sweet dreams.
Ben:
My body relaxes a bit, basking in the realization that he’s keeping his word. That this might work. Whatever this turns into.
9
Ben
I lean back into my pro-series gaming chair and huff out a sigh. I just spent the last two hours in a heated practice round for our upcoming tournament this weekend. We’re going to kick ass, but that was intense. I scrub my hand down my face and close my eyes. On my desk, my phone pings, and I reach for it. As I swipe at the text, I can’t help but smile.
Kelly: My surf suit. I’m
I groan, remembering the one and only time I’ve seen her in her surf suit. It was hot as hell, and I wish I could see her in it again. This is the first I’ve heard from her today, but I do the math and realize she should probably be at work right now.
Me: At ten in the morning on a Wednesday?
Kelly: Well, no. Right now, I’m wearing jeans and a shirt, but when you texted, I was indeed wearing my surf suit. I thought that would be more exciting.
Me: Ah, well, thanks for considering my feelings on the matter.
Me: You’re looking sexy in that surf suit.
Kelly:
Kelly: What are you wearing?
Me: Nothing.
I smirk because I’m not naked, but I want to see where this goes. We’ve been texting every day since my last trip. I know we decided on just being friends who have sex when I’m in Cali, but I’m horny as hell and can’t wait to get her alone in a room again. So I’ve decided to push a little, see where it gets us.
Kelly: Isn’t it like one p.m. in Chicago?
Me: Yeah, but I got hot.
Kelly: Really?
Me: Yup. I’m sitting at my desk and started thinking about that romp in my hotel room and got all hot and bothered.
Kelly: So you took off all your clothes?
Kelly: Did you say, ‘It’s getting hot in here’ first?
Me: Smart-ass
Kelly: Is there a reason you’re trying to bait me into thinking you’re naked?
Me: Sigh
Me: I was curious how far we’d take it.
She’s smart and I’m honest. This would have probably been a better text for late tonight, but my timing with her has never been great.
I push away from my desk, twisting my chair to take a break from my screen.
Kelly: I commend your attempt. But as you know, it’s not even lunch for me and I’m at work.
Kelly: Were you hoping the thought of you naked and thinking about our amazing sexual encounter was going to get me all hot and bothered? Causing me to go hide in the private restroom, lock the door behind me, and then ask you to touch yourself while I slowly and deliberately imagine it’s your fingers touching my wet, hot center?
Fucking hell.
Suddenly the room is too hot. The picture she’s painted of her touching herself to thoughts of me has my dick hard and me instantly regretting I didn’t try this later tonight.
Kelly: Are you touching yourself right now?
Me: You’re evil.
Kelly: You started it.
Me: I don’t know what I was thinking.
Kelly: That you miss my body and can’t wait for your visit next week?
Me: I miss more than just your body. But, yeah.
Kelly: I miss you, too.
Kelly: But I have to go now. Duty calls.
Me: All right.
Kelly: Call me tonight after eight my time. We can talk about you being naked and me touching myself.
Me: Shit, Kel. How am I gonna wait so long?
Me: But fine. I’ll wait. Have a good rest of your day.
Kelly: Talk to you later, gamer.
I let out a breath and dig my head into the back of my chair, closing my eyes. Visions of her naked and touching herself fill my head. Calling her after eight her time means calling her after eleven here. I’m a night owl, so it doesn’t matter too much. But I need relief now. I twist my wrist and look at the time, noting I’ve got a few minutes before I need to meet with the team. I’ve got time to rub one out. Feeling like a fucking sixteen-year-old unable to handle my horniness, I duck into the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, feeling very little relief and a hell of a lot of anticipation for tonight, I walk into the team’s training room. Late, of course, but it’s not a big deal.
“Nice of you to show up,” Simon says from the overstuffed leather couch shoved against the wall of the living room.
Our training room is the size of two, two-bedroom apartments. The team—and by team, I mean our manager, Rob—bought this unit and the one next to it after our first year going pro. He worked out some kind of deal to have it remodeled to make it work for our training. The large, open living room holds a gaming station for each of us. Desks, high-powered PCU’s, and gaming systems at each. We have two monitors apiece and big, expensive, comfortable gaming chairs. A lot of the extra bells and whistles that deck out our stations are courtesy of sponsors and potential sponsors. As a team, we have several, but Dex, Simon, and Bernie have a lot of individual sponsors as well. Chuck doesn’t like the spotlight, and I’ve had a few over the years but find it annoying to commit to specific products. I won’t turn away free products that the others get and generously share with the team, though.
The training unit also has a stocked kitchen and dining area, two bathrooms, a bedroom, and a workout room. The bedroom isn’t used, as we all have our own places, but it’s there in case it’s needed. The workout room is the equivalent of a small gym and gets used quite a lot by Dex, Simon, and myself. I’ve never seen Bernie step foot in it, and Chuck really isn’t the fitness type.
We all live in this same apartment building, which is handy. Chuck and I room together down the hall, and Bernie has her own unit on the same floor as well. On the floor directly above us, Simon and Link share a three-bedroom, as Dex just moved out to live with his girlfriend or fiancée—I’m not sure what she is. He and Morgan didn’t go far, though; only to the floor directly below. Honestly, Dex might own this building. He’s fucking loaded. He’s made bank on sponsors and winnings, and he turns around and invests smartly. Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if he owns the building, but I don’t ask because it’s none of my business how he spends his money.
“Sorry,” I groan.
“It’s okay, Ben. We waited.” Bernie smiles as she comes out of the kitchen with a can of pop.
We need to talk about our upcoming tournament and practice schedule for the next few weeks. While we do, Bernie writes on the giant hanging wall calendar and adds events to our digital group calendar. She’s a kick-ass gamer, but honestly, we would be lost without her organization skills, too. Most of the time, I think she manages our time better than our actual manager. I’m nearly positive he relaxes a bit because he knows she’s got us. Lord help him when she retires.
I wonder what she’s going to do when she doesn’t game professionally anymore. I look around at each member of my team and think about our lives after gaming. Dex will probably end up owning and running some gaming company. Simon will probably do coding or design work. Bern, well, she’ll need to manage something important. And Chuck—hell, I don’t even know. And me? I need to figure my shit out.
As Bernie wraps up the meeting, I’m pulled from my thoughts and remember I have something to add. “I’ll be at Lasso next week, Tuesday through Friday. But I’ll be staying an extra two days.”
“Oh, gonna party it up in Cali?” Dex laughs, knowing it’s not my scene.
“Yeah, sure.” I chuckle.
“You staying to hang out with Kelly?” Bernie asks, her eyes wide and all dreamy and shit.
“Oh, yeah, Kelly. How’s that going, man?” Simon punches my shoulder as he sits next to me on the couch.
“Good. She’s good. And, yeah, I’m gonna stick around and hang out with her for a couple of days.” I shrug, not wanting to make a big deal over it.
“I’m so excited for you and happy you two finally connected,” Bern says, still with hearts in her eyes. She’s such a romantic.
“Are you two an item now?” Simon asks. Dex leans forward, his arms on his knees, apparently just as interested as Simon and Bernie.
“Just friends,” I tell the room.
“Are you sure? You guys are always texting, and I thought for sure there was a ton of chemistry between the two of you.” Bernie’s face scrunches. Damn it, I’m not a huge fan of talking about my relationships.
“Did you meet her?” Dex asks, surprised.
Bernie looks to Dex. “No, but from what Garland has told me, their chemistry is through the roof.”
Fucking Garland Thorpe.
“Garland should shut his mouth. Yes, we have chemistry. And the sex is phenomenal.” Dex and Simon nod with understanding, and Bernie’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “But we’re just friends.”
“Why?” Simon leans back, giving me a look of challenge.
“Long distance, man. I can’t do it. She wasn’t into it, either.” I cross my arms, not thrilled at how we ended up going down this road.
“Did she say that?” Bernie questions.
“She said staying friends was fine. But we… decided we’d add in benefits when I visited.” I smirk, and Simon lifts his hand and high-fives me.
“So you two are just friends who have sex whenever you’re in town,” Dex confirms. I nod. Then he blows my mind out of the fucking water. “So what’s stopping her from dating and hooking up with other dudes when you’re not in town? Which is most of the time.”
Fuck. Me.
“Oh snap,” Simon chortles.
Bernie’s eyes bug out and she quickly adds, “I doubt she’s hooking up with other guys, Ben.”
But Bernie doesn’t know Kelly, so she’s saying that solely for my benefit. I can’t see Kelly being the kind of girl who sleeps with more than one guy. But, hell, we made it clear we’re just friends.
“Maybe—and this is something you should talk to her about—but maybe you two should make whatever this is more than just a friendship. You don’t have to call it a relationship if that makes you squeamish, but you could shoot for exclusive friends with benefits,” Dex ponders.
“You two talk every day, Ben. I know you like her a lot, so don’t shy away from having the tough conversations.” Bernie’s eyes dance with concern, her tone calm and thoughtful.
From his game station, Chuck so obliviously says, “Are we gonna practice or what, ladies?” He’s never interested in personal shit. While I don’t gossip like some of my teammates, Chuck would prefer to have zero personal connection with any of us. It makes living with the guy interesting, that’s for sure.
Simon grumbles but stands, joining Dex as they head to their own desks.
Bernie leans down and pats my jean-clad knee
. “Don’t let her get away, Ben. Talk to her.”
I push all thoughts of Kelly and our status out of my head and put all my focus into the several rounds we play of Call of Battle. But I won’t lie—it’s not far from my mind for the rest of the day.
I really like Kelly. If she were here in Chicago, or I was full time in Culver City, then hell yeah, I’d pursue more with her. But long-distance relationships suck ass. I’ve never been in one, but I know enough to know they would suck. So for now, she’s just my friend, and I’m already having a hard time dealing with not getting to see her on the regular.
While she’s amazing and I’m looking forward to seeing her again, I just don’t think I can offer her any more than friendship. Maybe some sexting, phone sex, and a hookup when I’m in town.
She said she was down for friendship, and she seems down for phone sex, too. I just hope she’s really okay with us keeping things this way. I guess time will tell.
Fuck. I’m just not sure if I’m ready for it to not be okay.
10
Kelly
I’m feverishly cleaning up my tiny apartment over the garage. I’ve picked up, dusted, cleaned the bathroom and kitchen, and now I’ve got just a bit of time left to do a quick vacuum. I’m a clean person, but I’ll admit I do a horrid job of deep cleaning. If I had a surprise visitor, they wouldn’t think my place is dirty—not at all. But if they looked closer, they’d see dust and dirt, I’m sure. I try to spend a few hours once a month deep cleaning. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. But tonight, Ben is coming over.
And since this is the first time he’s seen my place, I want it to be perfect. Not that it matters—we’re just friends. But still. I’m too excited for him to be around this weekend. I was nearly shocked stupid when he told me last week he was going to extend his stay in Cali. He asked if I was busy over the weekend and if we could hang out. Of course, I have no plans, as I spend a lot of time staying in and reading or binge-watching TV. That’s when Aubrey normally drags me out of the house.