Page 38 of Get to You
"How about when you're ready to talk to someone about why things are in the tank for you right now, you tell me?" I shrug, letting him know it's not a big deal, "Unless you're wanted for murder, I'm fine with not knowing everything just yet." I trust him, as a friend and as someone I let into my home. I don't know why yet, but I do.
He's looking at me skeptically. “I do have one condition,” I hold my finger up and point at him, "If you decide you don't want my friendship or something changes and you’re not going to be around anymore, tell me, let me know. No drama. I won't make a big deal about it, won't ask why, or where you're going. Just give me a heads up. I don’t like it when people disappear."
He looks thoughtful, "I can do that." He sounds confident.
I smile getting comfy in the corner of the sofa. I tuck my legs under my butt and pull my knees together. Beau moves around the table and sits down, much closer than he was before.
"What if I want more---than friendship?" He asks the timber of his voice changes. It's deeper.
"More what?" my reply comes out breathlessly. His palm moves to my knee and slides a little up my thigh. I can feel the warmth from his hand through my leggings. My eyes track the movement until it finally stops more than half way up my thigh. His thumb makes lazy circles on the outside of my leg, and his fingers squeeze slightly as they circle my inner thigh. He's touching me, really touching me, and I don't want to pull away.
"More from you, of you," He says lowly. I swallow open my mouth, but nothing comes out, so I shut it. My mind zooms through the possibilities and most lead to one designation, a broken heart. I'm not sure I could do casual with him. If he's just looking for a friends with benefits arrangement, I'll have to walk away.
I've been quiet for a while when he prompts, "Sammy?"
I open my mouth; this time I know what to say. I don't want to say it, but if I don't I know I'd regret it sooner rather than later.
I look right in his eyes answering, "That really depends on what you’re asking for Beau. I don't do booty calls or friends with benefits, so I need to know what you're asking for first.” I shake my head, “I'm not asking for any kind of commitment, but I'm not good with casual." His big hand squeezes before he pulls away. My heart drops but a part of me knew he would pull away. If I'm honest, that same part of me is grateful, because the hurt I feel now is nothing to the devastation I know would come later. I nod my head in acknowledgment of his answer.
He doesn't say anything when I stand up. I grab our plates and move to the kitchen. I hide behind the cabinets, one of the few places in my home that offers some form of seclusion.
It only takes me a few seconds to force lightness in my tone, "Do you need anything while I'm up?"
"No, I should probably get going.” His voice sounds hollow. “Thank you for dinner," his reply comes from near the front door. "Goodbye Sam," his voice a little bitter sweet.
And he's gone, but this time he didn't need to tell me he won't be back. I know. The door shuts quietly, before I even leave the sanctity of the kitchen.
I lock the door out of habit and turn out the lights. I crawl into bed and wish I could have given him the answer he was looking for.
