Needless to say, there was no further hand holding or snuggling of any kind. I did end up taking the couch that night though.
When I woke up the next morning, Scott was sitting on the floor by my head, fast asleep.
What was he trying to pull? Like I was going to be moved by this bullshit.
"You're so much harder to be mad at when you're asleep on the floor like some idiot," I said, lightly fingering his curls.
End this, the little voice in the back of my head said. Scott was a great friend. As a love interest though, he sucked.
One year, we even talked about how Scott had a perfect year. Twelve girlfriends in twelve months. He got rid of them like they were disposable diapers. You know the crazy thing? I was jealous of every last one of them. At least they got to be his girlfriends. At least with them he tried. I didn't know what the fuck he was doing with me.
We had these heavenly little moments where he'd say shit like I would never leave you. But that's all they were: moments. I couldn't keep holding my breath, hoping for another moment.
"We don't have to do this," Scott said later that night at the restaurant, his pinky brushing lightly up against mine as we were about to take our seats.
I liked that he was sweating. That he didn't actually want to do this anymore than I did. Honestly, I was probably playing with fire instead of just telling him how I felt. In my defense though, how do you tell your best friend of seven years that you just figured out you're falling for him, knowing he doesn't fall for anyone?
"Your first date awaits," I said, walking away from him.
Our eyes met across the room all night. Sometimes it was on purpose. Other times it was one of us catching the other glaring because one of our dates laughed at something one of us said or touched our arms or something dumb like that. This had been an idiotic idea. I was pissed and weirdly hot and bothered. Because even now I knew his attention was on me just like mine was on him.
"And that's a wrap, folks. Thank you all for participating," said Marlene's voice, not a moment too soon.
All I wanted was to go home, take a hot shower, and curl up against Scott's very naked body.
"Thank God," said Scott, meeting me at the front desk. "Can we go home now?"
He looked as tortured as I felt. I was ready to agree then and there, consequences be damned.
"Remember to check out the results for your questionnaires at the front desk," said Marlene, receiving a kiss on the cheek from Kenny.
Scott followed my gaze towards them. I envied what they had.
"I just need some time, okay?" I said, walking away.
"Not okay. Come on, talk to me," he said, wrapping his fingers around my wrist.
"What is this, Scott? What are we?" I asked, the words too painful to keep in anymore.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Le Bistro Royal has its first 100% match," said Marlene, giddy with excitement. "Here they are now, Scott and Stacy everyone."
The whole room burst into applause and I wanted to throw up.
"Looks like you aced even this, Stacy," said Kenny, coming up to us. "Scott is obviously your perfect match, but there are some other contenders that came pretty–"
"Shut up, Kenny," Scott seethed. "Just shut the fuck up. She doesn't need anyone else. She has me."
Here was one of those stupid, heavenly moments again, where he said exactly what I needed to hear and yet it hurt to breathe.
"Of course she does, but Stacy could use—" Kenny forged on.
"Babe no," Marlene said, coming to join us. "Let them go."
"You're leaving? Already?" Kenny asked.
"Jesus Ken, get a clue. We had no business being here in the first place," said Scott, interlocking our fingers.
I wasn't strong enough to stop him. I just watched it happen, felt my feet carry me to him.
"Kenny, they're a thing," Marlene whispered to him.
"No," said Kenny, looking at Scott and I.
By now I was leaning against Scott and he was kissing my forehead.
"No, because I would know. I live with them," said Kenny, trying to laugh it off. "They're not—"
Kenny turned to Marlene, seeking confirmation. She nodded her head at him. Then he turned back to us, bewildered, seeking confirmation once again.
"See you at home, Ken," said Scott, taking my hand and rushing me out of the restaurant.
We made it out into the parking lot and back to the car without a word passing between us. Scott opened the door of the backseat and finally said, "Get in."
The tension of the questions I had asked him lingered between us. I felt too much like crying to argue and just went with it. He got in next to me and closed the door.
"You're not moving out," he said pointedly.
"Why the hell not?" I asked. "I came to New York for a normal life. What we're doing isn't normal, Scott."
"I'm going to sound like an asshole, but I don't want you to be my girlfriend," he said, burying his head in his hands.
"You're right. You do sound like an asshole," I said, blinking the tears away.
"There's got to be a better word for what you are to me," he said, ignoring the jab. "Because I make girlfriends miserable. I fail at it every time. I'm such a fucked up mess, I can't even enjoy fucking someone, much less all the emotional bullshit."
This might have been the wrong thing to focus in on, but I found myself asking,
"You don't like fucking me? Then what are we even doing?"
"Are you insane? I'm addicted to touching you. Being touched by you. Only you. For the very first time, I don't have to talk myself into anything. In fact, I can't stop myself," he said, cupping my cheeks and kissing me. "You're the exception."
"Then what? You don't have feelings for me?" I persisted, in between feather light kisses.
"If I could do nothing but talk to one person for the rest of my life, that person would be you. No contest. Every time," he said, pressing his forehead up against mine. "What I feel for you is seven years in the making. I just want to be with you all the time. Every time I'm near you, I know it's bullshit. I know you deserve so much more than me—"
"I don't want anything else. I don't want anyone else," I said, convincing myself that I was indeed the exception, hopefully in more ways than one.
That I had his heart like he had mine and defining that would come later. I was so besotted with him I didn't care what we called us, so long as there was an us.
Don't break my heart, Scott.
"We should go back in there," I said, straddling him and wrapping my arms around his neck. "What will Kenny think?"
"That you're mine," he said, kissing me passionately. "Mine alone," he said, reaching down between us to unbutton and unzip his pants.
"You can't be serious," I said, scandalized by his dick poking at my panties in the middle of a parking lot.
"Who else's would you be?" he said, playing coy, as he slid his hand up my dress. He slid my panties aside and slipped a finger into me. "Consider this punishment for making me watch men leer at you all night," he said, pumping into me hard and fast, his breath hot on my neck.
He pulled down my dress and bra straps together, his movements rough as he kissed my shoulders, then yanked the bra and dress down until my breasts were exposed and he could bury his head between them.
I was a breathless mess, well on my way, his thumb rubbing my clit as he inserted another finger into me.
"Good enough," he said, urgently pulling his fingers out of me a few pumps later.
He replaced his fingers with the tip of his dick.
"This is not selling your whole I don't just want to fuck you vibe," I said, impaling myself on his dick inch by inch as he held my panties to the side for me.
"How about I'll never stop fucking you?" he asked, his lips claiming mine in a messy kiss while my pussy walls tightened around his dick. "Is that better? Fuck me Stace."
Maybe it was just having him inside me, but somehow things were better. As I held his face in my hands and started riding him, for the first time, it didn't feel like just a fleeting moment. And even if it was, I was going to have as many as I could with him because I was happy. The happiest I'd ever been.
"You're not moving out," he insisted, looking up at me from in between my breasts. "Say it," he demanded, grabbing onto my hips and pounding up into me.
"Okay," I yelled, not missing the vulnerability in his voice, his reckless body going wild beneath me.
"Okay, what?" he insisted, taking a nipple between his teeth, aggressive hands forcing me up and down his dick.
"I won't move out," I screamed, throwing my head back as my back arched.
It took effort with the frantic way in which we were going at it and
the orgasm threatening to roll over me, but I held out, looked him in the eye, caught my breath and said, "I won't leave, Scottie."