I didn’t know, but sitting here alone all day and night just because I was afraid of his reaction wasn’t really my style. The only way I would know how he felt about my wanting to spend more time with him would be to just go and see; if he was distant, or seemed unhappy to see me back, I would have my answer.
I had eaten recently, but I picked up a burger for him from a place we had all gone to on multiple occasions, so I knew he liked it. Flimsy excuse or not, I needed something to say when he opened the door to see I had come back. Belatedly, I realized Richard might still be there, or that he might be off with Richard doing something, but I was already pulling up to his condo and figured I might as well go knock.
“Hey,” there was a small lift to his mouth; it was about as welcoming as he ever was.
“I thought you might be hungry,” I held up the bag of takeout. From the look on his face, I knew he not only saw through my weak excuse, but realized why I needed to have one in the first place. I schooled my features, conveying with my own expression that if he were to call me out on either point it would not turn out well for him.
“Thanks,” he said after a pause, taking the bag and stepping back to let me in. Richard was nowhere to be seen; as much as I liked him, I was happy he had left. What Darcy and I had was confusing, unstable, and private; we didn’t need any outsiders just yet.
He led me to the couch, where his laptop was open and a bunch of papers were piled around. He pushed them back to set the bag down.
“Working on your day off?” I asked. “Your life is just one long rock video, isn’t it?” I teased.
“You just caught me between keggers by the pool,” he quipped back. I couldn’t help but laugh, surprised by the banter.
“You know kegger, but not brewski.” He just shrugged, digging into the burger.
“Nothing for you?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry,” I shook my head. “Jane, Charlotte, and I just had lunch. Oh, and Abby too,”
He looked interested, but not overly so.
“She told us about your awkward lunch,” I went on, mostly to see his reaction. He grimaced a bit, flicking his eyes to the ceiling and back down in a gesture I was very familiar with; annoyance. It was interesting to see it directed at someone else for once.
“She’s lucky she was actually interested in the company,” he grumbled. “I took time out of my schedule for that meeting.”
“Well, she’s still very impressed with you,” I replied.
“Do you want to watch something?” he nodded to the television. Despite the sudden change in conversation, it didn’t seem like he was trying to avoid talking about Abby, or even trying to avoid another potential fight between us; it seemed as if he had just reached his limit of interest in the matter and didn’t want to bother prolonging a conversation he had no interest in.
“Sure,” I said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Dinner Date
A month had passed, and George had stopped flirting with me long enough to actually ask me out on a date. I hesitated, thinking of Darcy. We weren’t anything more than occasional sex partners, however, and it wasn’t like I owed him anything. So, with this thought in mind, I agreed.
When Charlotte heard about it, she asked again if George had been my SSP, her shorthand for secret sex partner, but I told her he wasn’t. She then asked how my SSP would feel about me seeing other people.
“There’s a reason we refer to him as SSP and not BF,” I pointed out.
“Damn,” she nodded approvingly. “That’s very modern of you.”
“Is that a roundabout way of calling me slutty?” I asked. She threw her hands up in defense and laughed.
“No, I’m giving you mad props,” she assured me. “A man on the side who is the best sex you ever had and a date with the hot, charming new hardware guy? Respect.”
I smiled in amusement, but I was beginning to think the only reason I had agreed to go out with George was to prove there was nothing more between Darcy and I than sex. George was charming, no doubt about that. He was also entertaining, and it wouldn’t exactly be a punishment to have dinner with him, but I was worried that I wouldn’t have said yes if I hadn’t pushed myself into it by thinking of Darcy. I’d never before dated anyone I worked with, for instance; I always felt it was a good rule to have. But until Darcy, I’d never slept with anyone I worked with, either. Well, what’s done is done; it was too late to dwell on it now.
Of course, just as George was coming to confirm he would be meeting me tonight at Raoul’s, an upscale steakhouse, Darcy was conveniently nearby and heard the plans.
“See you at seven?” he asked. Darcy was scowling at us, but that wasn’t really uncommon.
“Yeah,” I agreed with more cheerfulness than I felt. “I’m just going to go home and change, and I’ll see you there.”
“Great,” George grinned adorably at me, rested his hand briefly on my shoulder, then left.
“He’s freaking sexy,” Charlotte said just as Darcy approached us. I winced.
“You and George are going out,” Darcy stated. Charlotte and I looked at up him curiously.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Is there some kind of rule that says coworkers can’t date?”
“No,” he shook his head, but didn’t move. I stared up at him until he shifted. “Have fun,” he said, and then walked away.
“Okay, so you might have been right about the boss,” Charlotte said slowly, clearly trying to interpret his weird mood and motivation for his comments. “He’s a bit socially awkward.”
“A bit,” I agreed, then turned back to finish up my work before heading out.
∞∞∞
When I got home, I showered and changed. Raoul’s was a nice place, so I was wearing a skirt and blouse, and my hair was tamed back in a barrette to keep it controlled and away from my face. I sat on the couch, waiting a few minutes until it was time to leave, and my phone buzzed with a text. I kind of hoped it was from George, backing out of the date. Of course, it wasn’t.
Come over.
It was Darcy. I scowled, wondering what he was thinking, and then decided to just question his motives.
Why?
A minute later, I had my answer.
I want to see you.
I thought about texting him back that I had plans, that I had a date, but he knew this. I know he knew this. Still, I did not want to make it easy for him, even if I was already regretting saying yes to George.
I’m supposed to be at the restaurant in half an hour.
That reminded him that I had plans, pointed out that I knew he knew this fact, but it also didn’t immediately shut him down. I read my own hesitation in the words and frowned, wishing I had thought of something better to say; he was already texting me back.
Come here instead.
Well, damn.
He was definitely telling me to ditch George in favor of him, but why? Was he jealous that I was going on a date with another man? He did have a possessive streak; did he see me as his plaything, not worth the trouble to take out on a date or make anything official but good enough to have sex with once in a while? I bit my lip, uncertain. I decided I needed a second opinion.
“SSP wants me to come over. I told him I have a date, and he told me to come over anyway,” I spewed to Char as soon as she picked up.
“Damn,” Charlotte said, followed by a small pause as she took my words in. “Well, who do you want to be with more?”
“It’s not that simple.” I replied. George was easygoing and amiable, if I could take him seriously, we might actually be good together. Darcy was incredible in bed and handsome as hell, but we were nothing alike; there was no future for us.
“SSP, of course. Best sex ever always wins.” Char laughed.
“Charlotte,” I whined. “You are not helping. If I go to SSP, I’m just some obedient, docile girl he can order around. It’s not like we’re ever going to be in a real relationship and with George I might get that. ”
“Well, then tell SSP you’re busy tonight and will meet up with him later,” Charlotte suggested. “Sorry Lizzy, you are either going to go see SSP or you aren’t. George doesn’t really factor into this unless you’d rather be with him tonight, and we’ve already established that you don’t.” I still hesitated, so she added, “Tell SSP that if he has a problem with you seeing other men, he needs to say something.”
“Yes,” I said. “Assertive. Demanding. I like it. Thanks Char.”
“Glad I could help. Just tell me at some point I will learn who SSP is,” she replied.
“Sure,” I laughed. “I’m sure at some point you will know.”
“And if I guess, you’ll tell me.”
“As long as it’s a legitimate guess, and not just a random naming of every mutual guy we know,” I sighed.
“Fair enough,” she paused. “It’s not Richard, is it?”
I laughed. “No Char, he’s all yours.”
“Whatever.” I could hear her grin. “Go have amazing sex and call me in the morning,”
“Yes, Doctor Lucas,” I replied with a smile, hanging up the phone.
I called George with an excuse and an apology. He seemed put out, but ultimately understanding, although he tried to extract a promise that we would try this again next week. I gave him a vague answer, thanked him again for being so understanding, and then hung up. I made it to Darcy’s around the same time I would have made it to the restaurant.
He opened the door, clearly pleased to see me. I frowned at him. I still wasn’t completely sure what was going on in his head or what had caused him to demand I come over tonight.
“You look nice,” he complimented me, taking in my outfit.
“Thanks,” I said, following him into the condo.
“I made dinner,” he said, taking my purse and coat and hanging them in the hall closet before ushering me into the dining room. I couldn’t help but gasp, my heart speeding up a bit at the sight of low lighting, candles, and a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket of ice. “I figured you would be hungry.”
Uh, yeah, you made me skip out on a dinner date, duh. I wanted to say the words, but I was so distracted by the romantic atmosphere that I stayed silent. What the hell Darcy? Why does this look so much like a date?
“I threw some steaks on the grill.” He pulled a chair out for me. I sat, and then watched as he went into the kitchen and returned with two plates, each holding a steak, mashed potatoes, and corn.
“I… didn’t know you could cook.” Of all the things I wanted to say, of all the confusion and the many questions I had, this was the safest.
“Nothing fancy,” he shrugged in an unusual display of modesty. “Just the basics.”
“It looks good,” I pointed out and he smiled.
“I hope it tastes good, too. Wine?” he offered.
I wasn’t a big wine drinker, but this felt like such a grown-up dinner that I simply nodded and let him fill my glass. We dug in, and it was actually, surprisingly good food. He asked me about my day, then about my family, and then told me a few cute stories about his baby sister.
I don’t think I’d ever heard him make such an effort to keep the conversation flowing. It felt so much like an actual date, though neither of us said the word. Neither did we mention George, or the fact that Darcy had only made this effort after I almost went out with another man. Still, I would be lying if I didn’t admit it was a nice evening.
After dinner, he brought me to the living room where we watched The Princess Bride. I heartily approved. He slipped away in the beginning to blow out the candles and put away the wine and leftovers, but then he was back. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me flush up against him. As the movie ended, he tugged the hem of my skirt up and his hot hand was pressed against my inner thigh. Then he was kissing me, slowly, passionately; I couldn’t help but think possessively. I slid over and straddled him, running my hands through his thick dark hair.
“Lizzy,” he sighed, leaning over to kiss me high up on my chest, almost on my neck. He was also in the process of unbuttoning my blouse and soon it billowed open, barely hanging on my shoulders. “You’re so beautiful,” he caressed me through my bra, and I shuddered. It was the first time anything other than commands and the occasional insult had been uttered while we were getting intimate.
“Will,” I murmured, kissing him before pulling back enough to say, “let’s go to bed,”
He wasted no time in complying and that night we came together with more tenderness than we had in probably all the other times combined.
∞∞∞
“Damn,” Charlotte said the next morning. “SSP hijacked your date. That’s smooth.”
“Tell me about it,” I replied, looking over to admire my smooth SSP, who was currently sprawled out on the bed still asleep. I had been up for a while and finally decided to call Charlotte back. I couldn’t find my shirt, so I did the clichéd girl thing and pulled on one of his. I didn’t even know he owned a t-shirt, but it smelled like him so I assumed he wore it often enough.
“Who do we know who’s that smooth?” She wondered aloud.
“You will never guess,” I assured her.
“You keep saying that, and I’m going to start guessing someone I really would never suspect. Like…” My heart in my throat, I waited until she continued, “Billy Collins.” A burst of laughter escaped from me, waking Darcy.
“Uh, no. I’ll call this one a freebie, since that was totally a random guess. Anyway, isn’t Billy Collins is your SSP?” I pointed out as I heard Darcy slip out of bed.
“That’s low, Lizzy,” Charlotte grumbled.
“Yeah, sorry, I forgot he was an unmentionable.” I felt a hand creep up my back and soon my shirt- er, his shirt, was being tugged back off.
“Come back to bed,” he rumbled in my ear. I clamped a hand over his mouth, but of course it was too late.
“Was that a man’s voice I just heard?” Charlotte asked with a bit of glee in her voice.
“No, that was, uh, the TV,” I disputed as Darcy tugged me out of the chair and began running his hands up and down my body. “But, uh, I do have to go, so…”
“Elizabeth I-don’t-know-your-middle-name Bennet, are you still at SSP’s right now? You are, aren’t you?” She was downright giddy. “Perfect. I’m going to call every guy we know and see who picks up, and who’s too distracted having sex.”
“I uh, no I’m not.” It was very difficult to maintain enough brain power to convince Charlotte I was not still at Darcy’s, and we were not about to have sex again, especially after I felt his hand slip between my legs. “Okay, have fun with that; talk to you later,” I said in a rush, hanging up the phone. “Darcy, you ass.”
“Finally,” he sighed, kissing me and pushing me back towards the bed. “Who the hell were you talking to so early?” He didn’t actually give me an opportunity to reply, but it wasn’t really worth stopping what we were doing to point this out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Accident
I was in a good place, actually. After our private date, whatever this thing was between Darcy and I felt more legitimate and I didn’t feel so bad that we were friends with benefits.
That was another thing – I no longer thought of us as reluctant acquaintances or some kind of enemies. I had gotten to know him more and discovered we got along better than I thought we would, and certainly better than we had in the beginning.
That made it easier for me to be okay with hooking up like we did; I no longer felt like it was a guilty pleasure, or something to be ashamed of – that I was sleeping with someone I didn’t even like just because the sex was so good. As a result it was never long before I would end up staying overnight at his place.
Work was also good; no one knew I was having sex with the boss and Darcy and I managed to be completely professional while we were at work anyway. And, yes, it was true Jane was practically living with Charlie and I foresaw moving trucks and packing boxes in he
r future, but I didn’t even count that as a loss, necessarily. She would still be close by, we would still be working together, and Charlie was a good man who truly loved Jane; I was happy for her.
∞∞∞
About three weeks after I had dinner at Darcy’s place, Charlotte and I were shopping together downtown. Despite feeling good about where my life was at the moment, on this particular day I was unusually crabby. I thought I might be coming down with something, and it didn’t take Charlotte long before she picked up on my irritability.
“Jesus, Liz,” she grinned as I made a snarky comment under my breath about the hipster that had just brushed by us, completely oblivious to the fact that he pushed his cart right in our way. “What’s up with you? Something happen with SSP?”
“No,” I huffed. “Why does it have to be about him? Like I can’t be in a bad mood that has nothing to do with some guy?”
“Some guy?” She took her eyes off a top she was examining to quirk an eyebrow at me. I had my arms crossed over the cart, my head ducked and my foot resting on the bar underneath. I knew I looked petulant, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“I’m a simple kind of person. When a young, beautiful, generally happy woman is suddenly snapping at everyone, she’s either not getting it at home—” she put a hand up to stop the comment she forestall coming— “Or,” she shrugged and looked back at the top, flipping it over to check the price, “Maybe it’s just your time of the month to feel like shit.”
“For your information,” I started, rolling my eyes. “I am getting it just fine at home. And I just had my time of the month last….”
She finally looked up after the silence dragged on to meet my panicked eyes.
“Oh, snap,” she said, mouth opened in shock. She dropped the shirt and took a step towards me. “Lizzy, are you saying what I think you—”
“No.” I stopped that thought before it could form. “No, it’s impossible.”
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