Page 39 of Floored (Frenched 3)
“Charlie Dwyer, if you’re not out of my house in ten seconds, I’m setting off the alarm.” I closed my eyes. “Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Fourthreetwoone.”
The back door slammed.
I opened my eyes.
He was still standing there.
“You are so annoying,” I seethed through my teeth.
“I’m sorry, OK? I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and exhaled. “The truth is, Erin, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.”
“You’re insulting me. That’s what you’re doing.”
“I’m sorry for that. I don’t mean to. I actually really like you, for whatever reason.”
I put my hands over my ears. “Oh my God, you just made it worse!”
He put a hand up. “Can I just say this, please? I know I’m fucking this up, I know we have very little in common, and I know you don’t want me here, but I like you and I did think about you all day. I really wanted to see you tonight.”
“Fine. Great. I was happy to see you. I even played your little game, asking you to fuck me after I’d tried to say no.”
“You didn’t enjoy it
?”
“You know I did. But why’d you have to ruin it with all the bullshit about trapping you, like I’m just pretending to be cool with what we’re doing when really I’m…” I steepled my fingers and lowered my voice to a sinister whisper. “Picking out china patterns on the sly.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Yes, it is. It’s the same thing you did last night, warning me about the mistakes in your past and how emotionally incapable you are, so I better not get attached.” I held my palms up. “In all honesty here, Charlie, the danger here isn’t my falling in love with you. It’s going back to how I used to feel about you.”
“Which was?”
“I couldn’t stand you.”
That got a wry smile.
“And right now I’m barely tolerating you, so just quit with all the nonsense. If you want to be friends, let’s be friends, but I think we were right last night—no more sex. It muddies things.”
“We did say that, didn’t we?” Charlie slapped his gloves against his hand. “Why did we say that again?”
“Because of this.” I gestured back and forth between us. “This is not fun.”
“So let’s do something fun.”
I crossed my arms in front of my thighs. “No!”
“I don’t mean that. And I don’t mean right now. I mean another day. Let’s do something fun together. Like friends do. Let’s go…skating!” he finished, like it was the best idea in the world.
“Skating?” My upper lip curled. “Skating is not fun. For me, anyway.”
“It will be with me. We’ll go downtown to Campus Martius.”
“I’ll watch you.”
“No, you have to skate with me. I’ll buy you a hot chocolate afterward. Or one of those desserts in a cup you call coffee.”
I groaned. “Do I have to?”
