Page 55 of Tight Ends & Tiaras
SIENNA
I’ma little sunburned and drowsy, but so content.
Ben and I had a blast this afternoon. Even with Janelle shooting me death glares all day.
I really needed that chat with Ben, and now that I know where we both stand, I feel good about enjoying this time for what it is. We’ll probably go our separate ways this fall, and I might cry a few times in the shower when we do, but at least I’ll always have these memories.
After a few long video sessions with my mom’s friend Dr. Quinlan, that TV show psychiatrist, she told me I tend to nurture myself because my parents were never around. As a result, I sometimes “excessively indulge myself” to make up for their absence. (Pretty sure she never said that to their faces, though.)
I never agreed with that assessment, but I won’t deny I plan to indulge in Ben as much as possible over the next few days.
Am I compensating for what Cal did to me? I don’t know. Maybe? My pride is still bruised from that, but I don’t feel like I’m using Ben to boost my self-esteem. I just know I’ll regret not making the most of the time we have together.
Understanding what I do about the football season, I can try to temper my expectations. Because Ben doesn’t do relationships, and I’m not going to try to get him to change his stripes. Been there, done that. Have the scar on my head to prove it.
Nothing good comes from trying to change a man.
But I’m down for whatever Ben wants to put into our friendship.
Because that’s what this is. Friendship. Yes, it might have a few benefits, but I’m going to reel in any stray feelings and lock that down.
This won’t be like what happened with Cal, who deliberately lied to me and told me he was looking for a relationship. Ben’s being upfront about what he needs, and I am too.
No way am I ready for a relationship right now anyway. I suppose, technically, Ben’s my rebound, and I’m good with that. I’m confident if we communicate and are open with each other about our intentions, we’ll still be friends at the end of the day. Hopefully really good friends.
I meant what I said. I’d hate to lose him. I feel safe when he’s around and hope I can be that safe haven for him too.
Once we’re done stuffing our faces with hamburgers, Lily crashes in her mom’s room. She had a great time with Miss Georgia this afternoon, and the look of relief on Ben’s face when we picked up his daughter from daycare was priceless. I’m so grateful things went smoothly for her because it seems like Ben is starting to trust himself more around her.
After dinner, everyone takes turns in the shower. Except Olly and Amelia, who take a shower together, and have such a loud round of sex, the neighbors in the adjoining cabin knock on our door and tell us to lower the porn.
When Olly and Amelia eventually emerge from the steamy bathroom, we applaud. Johnny jumps up and humps the air. “Harder, Olly! Harder! Right there, big boy!”
Amelia rolls her eyes, and Olly blushes adorably. He has a Clark Kent nerdy vibe, but he’s super cute, and I can see why Amelia’s into him.
“Shut up, assholes,” Olly grunts as he puts Johnny into a chokehold, and they go rolling onto the ground like the manchildren they are.
Amelia and Janelle chat like there aren’t grown men wrestling on the ground.
“We should totally go to that bar next week,” Amelia tells Janelle.
They whip out their phones, exchange numbers, and chat about places to hit up in Austin. I offer a suggestion or two, and they nod and add the bars to some list on Amelia’s phone.
I’m sitting right there, literally two feet away, but neither invites me to whatever they’re planning.
A little bummed, I head to the bedroom, change into pajamas, and let my damp hair out of a bun so it can dry. Exhausted, I curl up on the bed to read on my phone. With just the small lamp on the nightstand to illuminate the room, it feels cozy.
A few minutes later, Ben returns from his shower. He’s wearing sweatpants and a towel around his broad shoulders. Damp hair dangles in his dark eyes that take me in.
I’m grateful I packed some cute PJs, a stretchy pink tank top and pink shorts, which looked fine a few minutes ago. But now that the air conditioner has kicked in, my nipples are giving him a high salute.
Since he’s staring at them, I wave my hand in front of them and try to make a joke. “I’m obviously happy to see you.”
He smirks and waves at his sweats, which are now molded to a thick erection. “Back at ya, sunshine.”
All I can say is damn. He’s a big boy.
He runs his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I’m not usually a walking, talking hard-on.” His cheeks flush.
