Chapter 17
Nadine
James' idea was really, really good in theory.
The whole Let’s sleep with other people so we don’t let things get too intense idea, I mean.
And I’m relieved that he came up with it, truly.
Because he’s so right.
Even though we’re not, like, falling for each other, the fact that we’ve been completely monogamous for two weeks is so not what our arrangement was supposed to be about.
It was supposed to be casual sex with the other person whenever we felt like it.
Only, we aren’t supposed to feel like it all the damn time.
So, like I said. James' plan of changing up our sex partners? It’s a good plan. A great plan.
In theory.
The reality…
Ugh.
Okay, here’s the thing. The entire reason I pitched my friends-with-benefits plan to James was because of my inability to think sexy thoughts about a stranger.
As my mom pointed out, I clearly have to have some sort of connection with someone before I sleep with them.
Which is why…as nice as Carlo is, and as good-looking…I can’t go home with him. I just can’t.
To his credit, Carlo doesn’t push me.
After a perfectly lovely meal at a casual little Italian place he’d suggested, he doesn’t even blink when I say that I’ll hail a cab.
“Can I call you again?” he asks, as we do the awkward linger-in-front-of-the-taxi thing.
“Sure, I’d like that,” I reply, meaning it.
I don’t know that Carlo's the love of my life or anything, but dinner was nice. I may not be feeling the sexy vibes tonight, but a second date can’t hurt.
“Good,” he says with a slow smile. Carlo has a nice smile.
Then he puts his hands on my cheeks and kisses me, and that, too, is nice.
It’s only after I’m in the cab on my way back home that I realize how often I’m applying the word nice to Carlo.
Nice is fine.
But nice is not…
Nice is not what I’m after.
I want more.
I just don’t know what.
I pay the cabbie, pulling my keys out of my purse as I head toward my front door.
All hopes of a quiet evening with a good book and a glass of red wine are dashed the second I walk in the front door.
Music is blaring, struggling to compete with the TV (also blaring), as well as with the high-pitched din of a bunch of drunken voices.
I sigh as I set my purse on the console table by the front door. Looks like James' big plans of a wild night out on the town have transitioned into a wild night in.
I can’t really blame him, as I’m sure he thought he’d have the house to himself.
I’d definitely given the impression that I’d be going home with Carlo, as was our agreement.
Maybe I can sneak upstairs and he’ll never know….
“Nadz!”
Damn. I’ve been spotted.
