Finding Forever

Chapter 16

I wake up to the shifting of a swing and squeaky rings as Ryan climbs out of the hammock.

Dim sunlight filters through the windows of the gazebo enclosure. My eyes blink open, trying to make out the shape of the objects nearby – the doorway, the hot tub, his silhouette gathering clothes off a nearby bench. My heart seizes. The gazebo smells of sex, and Ryan, and I can feel myself growing dizzy from it, from his proximity and the memory of him inside me all night long. My arms, legs, and stomach are weak at the sight of him. Our night together comes crashing back in waves. My muscles felt like rubber, my body heavy, and I wanted to sink back into the hammock. There is a deep, unfamiliar ache between my legs, and I stretch, squeezing my thighs together to feel it again. To know I'm not dreaming.

What exactly do we do now? Do we pretend nothing happened? Do we confess what we've done to our friends? Do we talk about what this means? How does this work? Because I'm pretty sure to sleep with him once; it's a mistake. Sleep with him twice; drunk sex happens. Sleep with him a third time; it's intentional. And the worst part is we didn't just have sex once last night and part ways. We had multiple rounds of sex, orgasm after orgasm until our legs gave out, followed by cuddles, pillow talk, and drifting off asleep together.

Even without looking at the clock, I can tell it's still very early in the morning. The ocean is calm. Birds are chirping. The air is fresh and cool. I watch Ryan as he slides on his t-shirt, retrieves his shorts, and attempts to lace through his belt. His hair was in a sexier disarray than usual. When he catches me staring, he leans forward, kisses my palm and collarbone, and then rests his forehead against mine. He leaned away, and we stared quietly at each other for a moment.

"Are we really doing this?" he asks, his smile causing the dimple on his cheek to flirt shamelessly.

"Do what?" I ask, even though I know exactly what this means. I want him to be the one to say it again.

"Have awesome sex with each other, all hours of the day and night," he whispers, his lips ghosting along the column of my neck. "I thought we agreed to have the best of both worlds last night." He runs his hands under my pants and presses his palm between the damp lace between my legs. "Friendship and sex."

I pause and feel goosebumps rise along my skin. Yes, okay, during pillow talk, I may have agreed to the idea. My eyes close, and I let out a low moan as his fingers move in slow circles and tease along the edge of my panties.

"Well, Ryan," I say, my breath warm against his hair. "Sex with someone you enjoy spending time with sounds a lot like a relationship."

"Not if we don't make it one," his fingertips move up my arm and slide onto the back of my neck, holding me still.

Last night, I felt a lot of things. Mostly in the lower half of my body, which clouded my judgement. But now, sitting here, feeling things on the upper half of my body – like my head – I think that even though our sex is hands down the best sex I've ever had, the risk to our friendship is too much to keep this up realistically. Someone is bound to catch feelings.

I let out a shaky laugh and pushed him back a fraction. "I need to be the realist here and remind us that it will never work."

He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear and bends to kiss me, pressing his mouth to mine. I hesitate weakly against his lips before giving in to him slowly. My body gives up fighting, and I can't get close enough. He pulls away slowly from our kiss, and our eyes lock.

"Why wouldn't it work?" He runs his lips down and across my collarbone to my shoulder. "We've done it before – had sex and remained friends."

"Because you're going to fall in love with me," I let out another shaky laugh. I was joking with him, of course.