Page 28 of Trash Talk
Chapter 17
Ruby- 1 week later
Well, I’ve done it now. I’ve let Knox creep back in. And not just my bed, either. We talk almost every night. I forgot how good he makes me feel about myself. How funny he is. How much we have in common. We hit up our old stomping grounds the other day. It was great to see Gramps and my mom in such high spirits, but it was even better to beat Knox on the court (we played HORSE, of course). I haven’t done that in years. I find myself doing all kinds of things I haven’t done in years. And it’s fun. I’m having fun with Knox.
I’m addicted to him. His body. What he can make my body do. And it’s worse than that— I’ve had pleasant non-bedroom type thoughts about him. Thoughts like, Knox would like that tee-shirt. I’m going to text Knox this funny meme; he’ll think it’s hilarious. I wonder what Knox would like for dinner. Then I remind myself, we’re just having sex, and we’re not dating, and I don’t need to provide meals, clothing or laughs for a booty call. But then he LOL’s my meme and wears the shirt I bought him when he brings over steak and chorizo tacos with extra guac and queso. His thoughtfulness forces me to immediately jump his bones, and afterward I find myself thinking he’d be great boyfriend material. Which, I obviously shouldn’t be thinking. I shouldn’t be thinking how kind and funny and handsome and sweet he is, nor should I be thinking what a great dad he’ll be someday. To someone else’s kids, obviously. Definitely not mine. Which makes me sad for some reason, so I have to think of something that makes me happy. And you guessed it, my mind goes right back to Knox-Land.
I obviously can’t handle ‘just sex’ with that man. He gets under my skin. We know each other too well. Part of me thinks Em knew it too. Part of me thinks that she wanted this to happen. She’s always had a soft spot for Knox and couldn’t understand why I pushed him away for so long. Well, this is why. He’s all I’ve been able to think about for days now. He controls my thoughts, and if I let him, he’ll control my life.
Ultimately, every man wants the same thing, and I can’t give up my life for a guy. My job, my friends, my home, me— I don’t want to give up any of it and every guy has always wanted me to choose. They want to come first, but I’ve never been able to do it for any length of time. I know that makes me a hypocrite, but the second I give up all the things I love to put someone else first, guess who comes in last? Me. And guess who has nothing when it’s all over? Me again. And it always ends. Why rearrange my whole world just to end up disappointed? And alone.
I cancelled our ‘date’ last night. I need a break. If I don’t start pulling away now, it will be impossible to do it in three weeks. I have to think about myself. I can’t put Knox first.
I already miss him. The way he encourages me. Challenges me. Lifts me up (I mean mentally and emotionally, but I’ll miss the physical lifting as well). Damnit, why did I let Em talk me into this? It’s going to suck so bad when I have to say goodbye to him. Because I’ll have to. We can’t continue this arrangement forever. Sigh, that would be nice. Ugh, and here I go again. Thinking thoughts about Knox that I have no business thinking. I should just end things now. What will three more weeks get me in the grand scheme of things? A few dozen more orgasms, sure, but it’ll most likely give me a few more scars on my heart. I don’t know if I can handle that. I’m resolved. I’m making a clean break now. It’ll be easier this way. Knox will thank me later, I’m sure of it. Speak of the devil.
Knox: I’m making chicken gyros. They’ll be ready in 15
OMG. What the fuck? How does he do this? It’s like he’s clairvoyant or something. The second I start having bad thoughts about him he calls or texts or swings by with food and orgasms, and I can’t just break up with the guy that makes me my second favorite food of all time. And yes, I know that I can’t technically break up with a guy I’m not dating.
This weekend. I’ll end things with Knox on Sunday. I’ll get some good memories before it all goes to shit.
Me: Gimme 20. I’ll be the sexy lady at your door holding the rosé.
Can’t have him thinking I’m desperate for gyros or dick. Even if I’m desperate for both.
