“No problem. I have a 3:00 and a 4:30 in the afternoon, since I know you like them as late as you can make it.”
“The 4:30 would be great. Thank you.”
“Okay, sweetie. 4:30 p.m. on Wednesday. See you then.”
“Thanks,” I whisper just as White begins banging on the door.
“You in there, Buttercup?”
My nerves are shot. It feels like I’m cheating. No. Just lying. I ignore the small voice of my conscience and lay my phone on the small cabinet I keep my towels in. I wipe my hands on White’s t-shirt I’m wearing and open the door. He looks good enough to eat, standing there with his pants hanging low on his hips and no shirt. Somehow, even his bare feet look sexy. He’s broad, lean, and that six pack should be in a museum for everyone to admire.
“I was just going to get in the shower,” I tell him with a false smile.
“Maybe you need some help with that.” White grins.
This is the moment. The moment I push ahead and ride the ride for as long as it lasts, or I finally run away. Except there’s really no choice; I’d already made it by calling my doctor.
“I’ve been thinking…” I tell him, and I see the tension on his face gather around his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think you really need to have your swimmers checked. There’s no reason to think anything is wrong there.”
“Okay,” White says, confused, trailing off like he’s not sure what to say. I’m very familiar with that feeling.
“I mean, obviously I do think we should get tested and get a free bill of health if we’re going to have sex without… well…”
“Condoms?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. I think I see disappointment in his eyes and I feel the biggest need to erase it.
“I’m fine with that. We could probably do that today at the local clinic,” he says, but he doesn’t look happy. Why should he? Before I put him off to test his swimmers, and now I’m practically accusing him of being diseased. Probably none of the women in his life have asked him to get tested. I’m a freak.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him lamely, because I suddenly feel like this huge oddball. If he pressed it, I would have to confess everything. He has to know my excuses are lame. He gave me oral sex. If there were diseases involved…
I’m on the verge of confessing to him that I have decided to go back on the pill and we can have sex, that the testing was just nervous delay tactics, when White smiles. His hand wraps around the side of my neck, his thumb putting pressure on my chin—just enough to make my head tilt back. It strokes along the ridge of my jawbone as those deep blue eyes bore into mine.
“Don’t be sorry, honey. You’re being smart. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed about talking to me about anything. I’ve always loved everything about you. We’ve never had things hidden from one another. We have a trust I’ve never shared with anyone else. It’s why we’re best friends. That doesn’t change now,” he tells me, and his words meant to calm me, but instead they terrify me. What if he finds out what I’m keeping from him?
“How about I get my shower out of the way and then fix us some breakfast before I head to work?” I suggest, needing to get my nerves under control.
“What if I help you shower?” he suggests instead, causing my knees to go weak and the panic to hit me full force.
“Well…” I look back at the shower, then to him.
“We’ll just wash each other. Nothing else,” he says with a sparkle in his eye that should scare me.
“I’ll be late for work…”
“Do you have to go in? I was thinking we could spend the day together. Maybe drive down to the Riverwalk,” he suggests, like a spider luring me into his web. He knows how much I love the Riverwalk this time of year. The air is cool, the scenery is at its best, and there are all kinds of vendors set up along the way.
“I think I feel a cold coming on,” I tell him, thinking about the leave time I have accumulated at work. Surely a day off to spend with the man that I love is allowed. I rarely miss. I haven’t taken a day off this entire year. I see the surprise register in White’s face, right before he smiles.
“Is that a fact?” he grins, and just to make him smile bigger, I fake a cough.
“Yeah. I’ll probably have to call in.”
“That’s a shame. A damn shame,” he laughs.
“Yeah, I hope it’s nothing serious,” I tell him, pulling his shirt I wore to sleep in over my head. I’m doing my best to beat down my embarrassment, but I can feel myself blush. I turn around, giving him my back. It’s easier somehow since I’m standing in nothing but white boy-cut panties. Why couldn’t I have worn sexy underwear? “I still have a couple of things on my bucket list I’ve never tried.”