Page 118 of The Path to Loving Him
“He said that to you?” she asks.
“Yes. To my face. Not happening for him. Not that I want to be in a relationship with the man. I’m still on the fence about any sort of romance in my life, but I don’t want there to be a moment when I possibly want more, and he’s not open to that. I don’t think I could handle the rejection, so I think we just have to keep it how it is as friends without benefits.”
She crosses her arms and leans back on the couch. “That’s stupid. He sounds like a great candidate to sweep you off your feet and carry you into the sunset.”
I study my friend for a moment. “What have you been doing recently?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
I wiggle my finger at her, motioning up and down her body. “You’re different. More romantic. More . . . more into this whole love thing. What have you been doing since I’ve been gone?”
Chin held high, she says, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been dabbling in some reading lately, and I’ve justgrown to appreciate the possibility of finding one’s soulmate. We all deserve love in our life, even the ones who want to push it away.”
“When have you ever read books?”
“Ugh,” Bower complains. “You sound like my mother. If you must know, I was scrolling through social media, and there was a girl doing her makeup and talking about how she met a man on the side of the street and how he asked her to pretend to be his fiancée and baby mama. I was so invested in her story that when she announced it was a book at the end, I was fooled. But of course, I had to find out what book because a spin-off ofPretty Womanreally got my gobbler gobbling.”
“Ew, don’t say gobbler gobbling.”
“Anywho, found the book, read it in a day, and it’s been a downhill spiral into romancelandia from there.” She leans forward, placing her hand on my shin. “And do you know what I’ve learned?” She holds up three fingers. “Three things. One, love is for everyone, and we can find it, need it, explore it, and savor it in different ways. Two, books can make you laugh and cry at the same time. And three, there is such a thing as a bloody hand job.”
She leans back, almost as if she’s metaphorically dropping a mic.
I should have never left her.
“Uh, what is a bloody hand job?”
“I’m glad you asked,” she says. “You see, they slice the palm of the person giving the hand job, and then they use the blood as the lubricant. The guy gets off on not only seeing the blood all over his penis, but also . . . obvious friction.”
I blink a few times.
“Umm . . . Bower?—”
“Before you start judging.” She holds up her hand. “I was semi into it. Also, romance is a judgment-free zone. If you floatto the kinky side of things, then who are we to judge how people get their jollies? Let the people do their bloody hand jobs without feeling criticized.”
“You know, I think we’re getting a little off topic.”
“Possibly, but God, I had to talk to someone about it. I’m glad I got it off my chest. Also, I was sort of into it. Would I ever do it? Absolutely not. I’m a weenie when I get a papercut, let alone getting my hand sliced. But that’s what’s great about romance. You can live through the fantasy of it all.”
“True.” I’m unsure of how we got to this point in the conversation. Unsure of where to go, I say, “Are there things you’ve read that you want to try?”
“Absolutely. And I think that’s also one of the reasons I’m a solid no on the friends-with-no-benefits thing because you have no idea the kinds of activities you could be doing with that man. He seems like an A+ alpha, and when you have one of those in your life, you take advantage.”
“He is very alpha, isn’t he?”
“From the sound of it, yeah. And it’s such a sad thing that you don’t get to take advantage of it.”
“I know,” I sigh heavily. “But I think putting up that boundary is smart. The last thing I need is to lust after the man when I’m hitting groundballs to a bunch of high school boys.”
“I don’t know, maybe they’d cheer you on?”
“Once again, this isn’t some romantic comedy. This is real life, and those boys would not cheer us on. They’d probably judge the female coach for lusting after the head coach right away. You know what, Bower?” I look her in the eyes.
“What?” she asks.
“This is all of your fault.”
“My fault.” She points at her chest. “How is this my fault?”
