Page 32 of Baring All

“You awake over there?”

“Hmm.”

“You’re home.” I hear her door open and close and, before I know it, she’s at my door. Probably the first time in history a woman has opened the door for me. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you inside.”

“I’m buzzed, not drunk, you know. I can walk.”

“My bad.” Eloise chuckles. “Either way, you can’t sit out here all night, so let’s head inside, shall we? I need to call for a lift anyway.”

It takes a moment for her last sentence to filter into my brain. “That’s not necessary.”

With a frown, she steps aside for me to get out of the truck. “Er, I thought you said you weren’t drunk? You picked me up, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” I can’t keep the bite of irritation out of my voice.

“Okay. No need to get snippy about it.”

Sighing, I hold out a hand for my keyring. Closing my door, I activate the locks, then amble over to the front door. I step back and gesture for Eloise to precede me.

“Nightcap?”

“No, thanks. I should probably get going.”

Everything in me rebels at the idea of her leaving. Before the filter in my brain has time to engage, my mouth opens and I hear myself say, “Don’t.”

“Um, don’t what?” Her confusion is palpable.

“Don’t go. Stay here. With me.” Eloise paces away from me, then back. Then away again, not saying a word. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Kinda. That’s not what I was expecting you to say. And honestly? I have no idea how to answer that. I mean, considering how much you’ve had to drink tonight –”

“Like I said earlier, I may be buzzed, but I am far from drunk. And certainly not impaired enough not to know what I’m saying, what I’m asking.” I cut her off, the annoyance of moments ago back, intensified. My tone harsh, I push my words through clenched teeth. “You know what, forget it. Forget I said anything.”

The stricken look on Eloise’s face cuts me. It’s the same kind of look my mother would get when my father would say something spiteful or mean.

“Well, I – I should probably –” She makes a vague gesture before searching her purse – for her phone, I presume.

I feel like a prize jackass. Rubbing a nervous hand over the back of my neck, I stare down at my feet, scrambling to find the words to apologize.

“Eloise – shit. I’m sorry. Can we just sit a minute?”

First it seems like she’ll say no, but then she nods. I lead her over to the sofa and wait for her to take a seat before taking one beside her. Resting my elbows on my knees, hands clasped, I turn my gaze to my feet.

Eloise is silent next to me. Taking a bracing breath, I look over at her as I try to decide what to say. As the silence between us stretches, she raises an eyebrow, still not saying a word.

“Listen, I – er –” I stumble over my words, completely out of my depth. Clearing my throat, I try again. “For a million reasons I’m not ready to get into, I’m not a relationship kind of guy. And, until recently, I’ve been happy with the way things have been.

“Then you and me – well, you know how that went. I like you and, while I’m still not looking for a relationship, we’re good together.” God, could I be any more lame? “What I’m doing a really bad job at asking is, would you be interested in a friends-with-benefits kind of relationship?

“I can’t offer you a happy-ever-after. It’s not who I am. I’m too fucked up for anyone to want me anyway, but I’d really like for us to be friends. With benefits.”

Painfully aware that I’ve probably just shot any chances I had to hell, I decide to shut the hell up. Best not to alienate her completely, if I have any hope of us remaining friends of any kind.

She doesn’t say a word. Just sits there. In fact, the silence is so absolute you could hear the proverbial pin drop. Seconds stretch into minutes, and my discomfort grows. Finally, I can take it no more.

“Please, say something. Even if it’s just to tell me to go fuck myself. Anything.”

“I don’t knowwhatto say. I’m on the back foot here.”