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Friends with Benefits(20)

By:Amy Brent



"Oh, you know, the same old stuff. I'm keeping busy with work."


"James still being a perv?"


"Yes," I said, almost laughing. Almost. "What about you? How are things? The scruff suits you, by the way."


Steven scratched his chin almost self-consciously. "Yeah? Well, you  know, gotta try new things every now and then. I've been alright. Things  with the app have really taken off. It's in the beta testing stage  right now, and most reviews are positive. A couple more rounds of  adjustments and it should be released to the public. Keep an eye out for  our advertising campaign," he winked.


How dare he wink. He should have known what it did to me. All those  feelings for him, all that desire and need came rushing back. "I miss  you," I blurted out. I clapped my hands over my mouth like I could catch  the words and stuff them back in before he heard them.


That smile of his that I loved so much appeared. His teeth looked whiter  than ever against the contrast of his dark facial hair. "I've missed  you too, Allie. It's been weird not having you around."


"Yeah," I said, picking absently at a peeling part of the booth beside me. "Same."


Things were quiet for a while after that. The waitress arrived, and  Steven ordered some chili. I waited for her to bring it to him before I  dug into mine. We ate quietly together. Neither of us knowing what to  say, or neither of us willing to be the one to speak first.


The food was good and warmed me up. I started to dread going back to  work, so I wracked my brain for any potential conversation starters. It  was more than awkward sitting together with the heavy and very full  silence hanging between us. There was a lot that we should be saying,  but were unwilling to voice.


"Are you seeing anyone?" I asked when we finished eating.


Steven chuckled and leaned back in the booth. "Seeing anyone? Come on,  it's been three months. But you know me better than that."


"So, that's a no?"


"That's a no," he nodded.


"Right. Well, you never know. Stranger things have happened," I said.


"True. Like my best friend hooking up with my brother," Steven said.  There was still a hint of amusement in his eyes, but it was faint.


I bit my lip and looked away from him. "Yeah."


"What about you?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "You seeing anyone?"


"No, definitely not," I said, wishing painfully that I was so I would have something to talk about. "How's Chance?"


"He's good. Doing the same old stuff, too. You know how it is. He still  busts my ass about you and I not talking. Drives him a bit crazy."


I smiled. Chance was one of the good ones. He and I always got along. I  missed him, too. "Well, Chance always has been more invested in other  people's lives than his own. It's a blessing and a curse."


Steven chuckled again. "I suppose you could look at it that way. How's  your sister? She still working her ass off? Pedal to the metal?"         

     



 


"Yes," I said, feeling a bit lighter now. "She's keeping busy. She asks  about you a lot. I took a breath to continue but didn't say anything.


"Yes?" Steven asked, sensing my hesitation.


"She knows how much I miss you. The last few months haven't been easy,  Steven. Not at all. I have a lot of regrets. A lot of guilt. I still  feel terrible. I think I always will. I'm so sorry."


Steven was looking at me like he wasn't sure what to say. Some of that  anger I had seen in him that night at The Italian Corner resurfaced in  his dark eyes. Then he shrugged, and it was gone. "Well, there's nothing  we can do about it now, right?"


I nodded and nudged the salt and pepper shakers around on the table.  Conversation between Steven and I used to flow so effortlessly. Now  there was this big elephant in the room.


I reminded myself that I was lucky to even be talking to him. Yesterday,  and all the days over the last three months, I never would have  believed I would be sitting down with Steven today. I was sure that I  would never talk to him again; and I was positive that if I ever saw him  in passing, he would turn away from me.


"Why did you get up and come sit with me?" I asked after the waitress brought us our bill.


Steven scooped it up before I could and pulled out his wallet. "I was  watching you for a while. I had decided that if you saw me, and if you  smiled, I would come over."


"And if I hadn't smiled?"


"I probably would have left," he shrugged, dropping thirty dollars on the table.


"You don't have to buy mine," I said. "Please let me."


"Nah," he said, waving his hand at me. "Don't worry about it. I want to."


That awkward silence returned. Our conversation wasn't natural like it  used to be. Every word felt like I had to work for it. Every sentence  felt like a masterpiece.


"Would you want to come over tonight by any chance? We can catch up in  private and, I don't know, try to reconnect?" I asked, bracing myself  for rejection. "I'd like to talk more."


Steven tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. I was sure he was going  to shoot me down. After what I had done, and how things had ended, I  wouldn't blame him. The choice was his to make.


"Sure," he said. "I'd like that."


"Really?" I said.


Steven chuckled. I remembered how much I loved the sound of his laugh. "Yeah. Really. Eight o'clock alright?"


"Yes, it's perfect. I'll cook dinner."


Steven nodded as he slid out of the booth and put his jacket on. "Sounds good. I'll bring the wine."


I nodded. He buttoned his jacket and gave me one last small smile before  he turned and left the diner. I stayed in my booth, my heart hammering  in my chest as I thought about him coming over to my place that night.


The waitress passed by and gave me a knowing smile. "Quite the catch you  have there," she said, nodding to the seat Steven had just vacated.


"Yes. He is. He isn't mine though," I said.


"Oh." The waitress blinked. "Really? The way he was looking at you when  you came in here made me think otherwise. I think he likes you,  sweetheart. And I have to say, if I were you, I'd be willing to do  anything he wanted me to."


I couldn't help myself from laughing. The waitress giggled too in a  proud sort of way-as if she had been trying to make me laugh.


"If he'd have me, I would too," I said. "But I made some mistakes that I don't think he can forgive me for."


The waitress frowned. "A man who is still holding on to anger doesn't  look at a woman like that. I'm just saying. Maybe he's moved on. You'll  never know unless you go for it."


"Right," I said, standing up and gathering my things. "Thank you for  everything." She gave me another smile, and I went out the door, the  bell chiming above my head. It was easy to give advice when you weren't  the one who carried the guilt.


As I walked back to the office in the cold, I thought about Steven. I  thought about how intense the sex had been in the bathroom at The  Italian Corner. He had been angry. He had fucked me even though he was  angry. Even now, three months later, I still got wet thinking about it.


Then I would be sad thinking about how he left me there alone. His face,  when he turned back to me, had been so anguished, so distraught, that I  couldn't keep myself from crying. I cried for him. I cried for what I  had done to him.


If he had somehow found a way to put all of this behind him, I would be  relieved. I didn't want him carrying around that grief and betrayal. I  wanted him to move on; even if that meant he and I could only be  friends.         

     



 


I would take whatever part of himself Steven was willing to give me. He was worth it.





Chapter 17

Steven





I stared at the number pad outside Allie's condo. It was strange to be  standing outside her building again. In the past few months, I had  driven by a few times-only because I needed to on my way to other  places-and each time I had looked up the steps, hoping I might catch a  glimpse of her. I never did. The last three months had been entirely  Allie free, and if I was honest with myself, it had sucked.


I missed her, everything about her. I missed her care-free laugh, and  the way we used to be able to talk for hours about anything and  everything. And the way she would rest her ankles on my thigh when we  watched movies. Now, in the colder weather, she would nestle her feet  between my legs and the couch to stay warm. I missed the smell of her  shampoo, and the home-cooked meals she prepared for me whenever I  visited.


And I missed fucking her.


I buzzed her suite, and she let me in. I climbed the stairs and found  her apartment door open for me. I shook my head, smiling to myself. She  had fallen back into old habits.


I kicked my shoes off and called down the hall to her. "I see you have  started leaving your door open again. Just because we haven't been  talking for the last three months doesn't mean you can start being  reckless again."