Not the Friend with Benefits: A BBW New Adult Serial Romance (Not the Hot Chick series Book 3) (3 page)

His eyebrows lowered. "What's the problem? This guy doesn't want you seeing me? He won't let you have friends?"

"He doesn't know about you," she answered quickly. Too quickly. Crap. She hadn't meant it to come out like that.

"Oh." That gave him pause. His eyes narrowed. "So, I'm…what? Your dirty little secret?"

"Nothing like that. We haven't discussed it." She stared down at her laces. "It's not like he's told me all about his friends." Though he'd mentioned the guys he played ball with—Ryan and Tony and a guy they all for some reason called Fuzzy.

"Well, we're not doing anything shady," Cam said. She could feel him watching her, assessing her. Her face grew hot with shame. He was right about her keeping him secret, and that wasn't fair. To him or to Drew.

"I know. And it's not like Drew and I have even…"
Whoa. Stop there, girl. TMI.

But Cam connected the dots. "You haven't hooked up yet?"

Layla cut her eyes left and right to check no one could overhear. "No."

"Really?" An expression washed over his face, a pleased look that came and went in a flash. "How long you and Romeo been seeing each other?"

"Shush, don't call him that. His name is Drew. And it's been two months." She hesitated. "Two and a half."

"Huh. So what's the deal, he can't get it up?"

"Shush! It's not that. We're taking it slow. Taking our time." At least, she hoped so. Was it possible Drew just didn't want her? Didn't think she was sexy enough? They'd made out plenty of times, but had always drawn back before going too far. Actually, she was the one who put on the brakes, but Drew never pushed. She always figured it was because he respected her. But maybe he wasn't really into her?

Cam gave a snort of disbelief. "Two and a half months, shit, that's more than enough time to know whether you want to tear up the sheets. What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing's wrong with him!" She chewed her lip, realizing something for the first time. "Maybe I'm the problem."

Cam's reply was short and emphatic. "Nah. No way."

"Really. I'm the one who's been dragging my heels. I just figured that out."

"How come?"

"I don't know."

"He doesn't turn you on?"

"Yeah, he does." She thought of their kiss outside the coffeehouse and remembered how it had warmed her down to her toes.

But it wasn't like the blaze she'd experienced with Cam.

There you go again, comparing the two of them. What's the point?

Yes, she and Cam had enjoyed two hot hookups. Sex with him had been like a sheet of flame, flaring up, consuming her, and burning out. Her attraction to Drew felt like glowing coals that could be fed to maintain a steady, long-burning fire.

Her thing with Cam had been intense, but could never be sustained.

Oh, get over yourself. You put Cam in the friend zone, but he never asked to be anywhere else, did he? Sure, he'd be happy enough to get busy now and then, but he's never shown any interest in having a serious romance with you.

Why should he? He was young, horny, and free. He had too many options, too many girls hitting on him. She would never feel completely at ease. She and Drew could build something together. With him, there was a chance for a future.

"I know what your problem is, little Layla."

Cam's unexpected remark startled her. She'd been so mired in her dilemma, she'd forgotten he was right there beside her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Same old song. You're overthinking it."

He'd told her that once before, when she'd been struggling with the decision to get with him the first time. "You think?"

"Oh, yeah." He folded his arms across his middle and leaned back, his expression so smug she wanted to kick him. "You're going round and round in your head.
What if I do this, what if he wants that, what'll happen if I
…" He puffed a sound of disgust and flicked his fingers to show what he thought of her doubts. "The hell with it. Stop futzing around. You know what you want. Go for it."

Was it really that easy?

He plowed ahead, steamrolling her uncertainty. "Listen, I know who I'm talking to. Underneath that proper little schoolteacher veneer is a wild woman. I got the scratches on my back to prove it."

The remark was so casually inappropriate, she burst out laughing. "Be quiet. I never scratched you."

He gave her an alligator grin, all teeth. "Claw marks, baby. You were Sheena, Queen of the Jungle!"

Recalling that time, a thrill zinged through her. A sexual thrill that swirled in her belly and warmed parts lower down, creating an ache so intense she bit her lip to stifle a moan. So wrong in this place, with parents and their little kids skating by, innocently enjoying the day.

She swatted him with her glove, punishing him for putting her in this predicament. "Stop. You're out of control."

"No.
You
were out of control." He grew serious. "Really. If you want the guy, make your move. You sure weren't shy with me."

No, she hadn't been. Not once they got started, and certainly not their second time, when she practically dragged him into the storeroom of the Shamrock.

She stared at him.
Make your move.
What if she made a move right now, grabbed Cam, and planted a big, wet one on him, right in front of everybody?

And make a fool of yourself? Are you crazy? You'll never be enough for Cam. And hello, have you forgotten about Drew?

Drew. Smart, sweet Drew, who was perfect for her. What was she waiting for? Some bolt of lightning to hit her? Some message written in the sky saying
He's the one
? Why was she sitting here fantasizing about Cam, who was all wrong?

She and Cam could never be more than friends. Anything else would lead to heartbreak—
her
heartbreak.

But he spoke the truth about her dithering, not making up her mind. She was standing in her own way. Holding on to those flimsy dreams of Cam might lose her the chance of happiness with Drew. "You're absolutely right."

"Hell, yeah, I'm right. So what are you waiting for? Get your ass in gear and give the poor guy some."

Instead of the lip-lock she'd imagined moments before, she gave Cam a quick peck on the cheek.

He blinked. "What's that for?"

"For being so smart, and giving me such good advice."

His expression softened. He placed his hand on his cheek, as though he wanted to capture her kiss and save it. "You're welcome. So I take it you're going to follow my words of wisdom."

She bent to unfasten her skates. A new confidence filled her. No more stalling with Drew. It was up to
her
to make the first move. "You bet I am. As soon as I wrestle myself out of these skates."

****

Layla drove home, invigorated by a sense of purpose. All her indecision was gone. She was going to go to bed with Drew. Tell him how much she cared for him. And she was going to tell him about Cam.

She wasn't afraid anymore, because she had faith in Drew. He wouldn't ask her to give up Cam's friendship. He'd know there was nothing for him to worry about. He'd trust her, just the way she trusted him.

As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, she realized she hadn't thought to look for his car in the parking lot. Maybe he wasn't here yet. That would give her time to straighten up a bit and maybe change. Take off her skating gear—leggings and a lumpy sweater—and get into "something more comfortable."

She snorted at the phrase, as it recalled scenes from old movies where the actress uttering the line would later emerge in some filmy negligee. Layla owned no filmy negligees. Still, she could come up with something a little sexy, something that whispered,
Come and get me, big boy
.

There was no need to fish the key out of her purse because her door was already unlocked. When she walked in, she found Drew standing in the living room, his back to her, toweling his damp hair. "Hey."

He turned quickly, his eyes wide and startled, his mouth agape. "Uh…hey. Why you here?"

She gave a small laugh as she tossed her purse on the sofa and shrugged out of her jacket. "I live here, remember?"

He cleared his throat. "Sure. I just thought you'd be gone longer."

She smiled and kept her voice low. "I wanted to get home to you." Though he was completely dressed, his feet were bare. "You showered, huh?"

He looked away, as though embarrassed. "Yeah. Uh, I got sweaty during the game, so…"

"That's fine," she answered, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. She glided over to him, laid her hand on his soft flannel shirt. "I wish you'd waited for me, though. I would have liked to join you." She stood on her toes and gave him a soft kiss.

Yes!
Her libido pumped its fist.
You go, girl!

Drew didn't return the kiss, just stood like a monolith. Layla sank back on her heels in disappointment and confusion. Had she done something wrong? Misread his feelings for her? Turned him off?

But what she saw in his face was not disgust, not indifference, but fear.

She glanced past him and her gaze landed on the armchair, where another purse, another jacket lay. A red jacket. For a moment Layla couldn't connect the dots.

The bedroom door opened and out walked Jessi, pulling down her sleeves. "Hi, Layla."

Layla stepped back. Her gaze swung from Jessi to Drew, whose face was bright red.

Jessi, though, was unruffled and serene. "We didn't think you'd be back so soon."

Layla didn't answer. She couldn't. A boulder lodged in her throat. Drew stood frozen. His shower, which seemed so innocent a moment ago, took on a whole new meaning. He'd gotten sweaty all right, but not with his basketball crew.

Jessi went to the armchair, picked up her jacket, slipped her arm through the strap of her purse. She tilted her head, smiled at Layla. "I'm sorry we didn't have more time together to catch up, Layl. But don't worry, Drew made me feel right at home." Her tone was light, with no trace of suggestiveness. But malicious glee danced in her eyes.

She sidled up to Drew and kissed his cheek while Layla floated outside her body and watched. Was this really happening? Or was it a dream, a hallucination? Had she just plain flipped out?

Jessi wiped a lipstick stain from Drew's cheek with her thumb. "It was fun, baby," she murmured. "Let's do it again sometime."

Drew didn't move, but his face was pinched with misery. He slid a look Layla's way that said,
I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I know she used me.

It didn't matter.

Jessi walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into the hall. Layla followed, still floating, her legs moving of their own volition. Jessi paused at the top of the stairs and turned to her with a smirk.

"How does it feel, knowing you're getting
my
sloppy seconds this time?"

The fog surrounding Layla cleared instantly. Rage slammed her. She grabbed the red jacket, still in Jessi's arms. What she meant to say or do next, she didn't know. But she had no chance to do anything. Jessi yanked on the jacket and stumbled backward, arms flailing, down the stairs.

It all happened too quickly for her even to scream. For a moment Layla throbbed with fierce satisfaction as Jessi fell. Then her stomach lurched with sickening dread when the girl hit the landing.

They stared at each other, both wide-eyed with shock.

"Oh my God." Layla hurried down to her. "Don't move. I'll—"

Before she could say more, the girl screamed, "Stay away from me! Don't come fucking near me!"

Drew heard the commotion and raced down the stairs. "What the hell happened?"

Jessi swatted him as he tried to help her up. "Don't touch me! Your fucking girlfriend tried to kill me!"

Drew swung a horrified look at Layla. "What did you do?"

Layla let go a breath, shook her head in a daze. She felt deflated, completely empty. "She fell."

"Fell, my ass!" Jessi shrieked. "She pushed me, is what!"

"Jessi, come on." Drew picked up her short boot, which had come off during the fall, and held it out to her. "It was an accident."

"The hell it was!" She snatched the boot and smacked him in the face with it. He recoiled. Layla gasped. "Fucking wimp. You think she's so
nice
. She's got you fooled big time." She snorted and danced on one foot as she pulled on the boot. "Loser."

Silently Drew picked up her jacket and purse. Jessi grabbed them with a sneer. "She's only with you 'cause the bartender doesn't want her." Throwing back her tangled hair, she hobbled down the steps to the next landing. "Have fun being the one she settles for."

They heard the sound of the front door opening, but Jessi wouldn't leave until she fired one last shot. "She'd fuck him in a hot minute if he gave her the time of day!"

The vicious utterance echoed in the stairwell long after the main door slammed shut. Then came silence.

Layla and Drew remained where they stood, staring at each other. She broke the spell first, trudged back to her apartment. Closing the door behind her would have demanded too much energy, so she left it open.

She lowered herself to the sofa, still dazed. She couldn't believe that Drew and Jessi had hooked up in her home. In her
bed
. God. She'd have to wash the sheets. No. Burn them. If only she could burn the mattress, too.

Drew came in and stopped in the middle of the room. He shook his head, gazed at her as if he'd never seen her before. "I can't believe you pushed her…"

She blinked. He really thought that? "She fell."
And you were glad
, her little voice said.
For a second, you hoped she'd break her neck.

If only she could feel that anger now. Feel anything. But she was numb, in shock.

Drew's face was scratched where Jessi had hit him. She pointed to her own cheek right below the eye. "You're bleeding."

He touched his cheek and looked surprised at the smear of red on his hand. "Uh, I'm just gonna…" He gestured to the bathroom.

"Yeah, go ahead," she told him dully.