13. Gianna

I stir awake, slowly and gently.

Blotches of light dance in front of my eyes, too bright for me to completely open my eyes. I roll to the side and snuggle my pillow. The faint scent of musk and citrus makes me blink to orient myself.

I rub at my throbbing eyes, trying to remember what happened last night and why my body is sore.

Memories of Chris’s hands exploring every inch of my body, his breathless groans as we rocked together, our fingers laced tightly.

I swallow a lump in my throat and sit up, wincing at the soreness between my legs. I clutch the sheets to my chest.

I still feel the haze of sensations in my limbs, the vibration, and the waves.

After coming down from the high, he carried me from the sofa and deposited me in my bed, where we had gone for another round of reckless fucking. The way we’d both clung to each other desperately, voices breaking.

I climb out of bed and wrap the sheets around me. There are no signs of his clothes anywhere, and my heart sinks. This is what I expected, so why am I feeling let down?

I walk into the bathroom and gasp at the sight of my reflection in the mirror. There are red bruises on my neck, littering down to my collarbone.

A sharp heat coils in my stomach as I recall the way Chris possessively marked my skin.

I place my two hands on the sink. You wanted this. You asked for it. Everything is going according to your plans. So, be happy.

I busy myself with freshening up before shuffling to the kitchen. The smell of toast fills the air.

Did Nala spring a surprise visit on me again?

What I dont expect is to find Chris with his back to me, taking toast out of the toaster.

Time stops. My breath hitches. Shit, he’s here. Chris is here. Hes not supposed to be here.

What does that mean? What does it mean?!

He turns, and on seeing me, he breaks into a wide smile. “Hi, sleepyhead.”

“How—Why are you here? I thought you left already.” My voice comes out croaky despite my efforts to sound perfectly okay.

“When I woke up, you were sound asleep, and I felt bad about waking you up. I actually left to freshen up,” he explains, and then I finally notice his change of clothes. He looks more relaxed in a simple white shirt and dark jeans. “I know you must have been pretty tired after last night, so I came back to make breakfast.” He takes a couple of steps forward, looking nervous. “Have I overstepped my boundaries?”

I shake my head, unable to look away from him. “No.” His face softens, and his lips curl up sweetly. “I was just surprised,” I say.

“Good. C’mon, lets eat breakfast. I know you must be famished.”

He ushers me to a chair at the kitchen table and sits beside me. “I prepared toast and eggs. You still like it, right?”

“How did you know its my favorite breakfast?”

He shrugs, smiling as he scoops some eggs onto my plate. “Thats all you ate anytime you stayed over back then.”

My heart flutters. I never knew he paid attention to me. I always thought I was invisible to him.

To hide my flushed state, I start eating my toast. I can’t entirely focus on my food either because Im too aware of how my knee is touching his under the table. Our legs are pressed together, and neither of us moves away as we eat.

“You were so beautiful last night,” he whispers in my ear before drawing back and eating his toast as if he didnt just do that.

I feel tingly all over, but I will be damned if I let him know the effect he has on me.

“This came out better than I expected. I didnt know you cook,” I say to change the subject, gesturing at my plate.

He chuckles lightly. “I dont.” He simply says before taking a sip of his water. “This is the only thing I can cook without burning the whole house down.”

We share a laugh. “I guess you are not the perfect bachelor they say you are.”

“Im so far from it.”

After a few moments of silence, he talks again. “Funny how I still dont know how you met Nala and became friends.”

“Well, I met Nala in high school, obviously.” That causes both of us to laugh before I continue. “My aunt had moved from Oxford to Georgia when I was thirteen, I think? We moved because she had found new work. I didn’t know anyone at school, and nobody wanted to be friends with the new girl who wore glasses that covered most of her face.” I chuckle lightly at the memory that used to make me sad, but not anymore.

“But Nala spotted me being bullied by one of her friends. She saved me and declared me her friend from that day. Being the most popular, her endorsement of me made everyone want to become my friend. Boring, right?” I ask, laughing quietly, only to stop when I see that hes not a bit amused.

“What about your parents?” he asks, making my smile drop. When he notices my discomfort, he starts again. “No, no, you dont have to tell me about them. Im sorry for being nosy.”

“My dad died when I was four, so I didnt really know him. My mom couldnt come to terms with Dads death, and she abandoned me with my aunt and never came back. Even today, I dont know if shes alive or dead. Thats why I maintain that Im an orphan.”

Staring at my almost empty plate, I remember the nights my aunt locked me out, and I cried for my mom to come back for me. She never did. She left me to be a slave for my aunt. I slaved away the fourteen years I spent with her.

The feel of Chris’s hand on mine snaps me out of my distant thoughts. I take a deep breath, realizing that Ive said too much, and now I can’t bear meeting his eyes. Its most probably pity I will see there.

I pulled myself together and removed my hand from his despite his warm fingers calming effect. “It’s fine. Its all in the past.”

“I am sorry that you had to go through all of that,” he whispers quietly, his hand back on mine like it never left.

I close my eyes, savoring his warm touch, and I cant find it in myself to pull away. “And Im sorry that I failed you. I should have been there, but I just made things worse.”

“Like I said, it’s in the past. Now we are here. There are other things to worry about,” I say, thanking my voice for not giving out on me.

He clears our plates despite my protests and takes them to the sink to wash. It feels weird seeing Chris in my kitchen looking like he belongs there.

After washing the plates, he wipes his hands with a hand towel. He smiles when he sees me watching him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know you don’t have to do all this,” I reply.

“Do what?” He looks confused, and it’s cute.

“Be all nice and pretend like we are friends and not fuckbuddies.”

He frowns. “Thats quite straightforward.”

“Isnt that what you want?”

“You seem to know a lot about what I want,” he shoots back.

“Because I do. Nala literally whines about your lack of commitment almost every time I see her.”

His eyebrows raised, he exclaims, “Wow! I didnt know my sister was such a blabbermouth.”

“She was just worried about you.”

“I just want us to talk more like friends. Fill the part of friends in the friends with benefits,” he continues like I’m the one acting crazy.

Why is he trying to make things more complicated than they are?Im okay with him ignoring my existence and only acknowledging me when he needs me, not this. Im not used to this version of him.

“You never really seemed that interested in getting to know me before,” I remind him.

He hums and nods, “That’s my bad. But I want to get to know you now.” There’s determination in his gaze.

“Won’t it complicate things?” I voice out my concern. Im afraid the lines will get blurry, and someone will get hurt. Im afraid that it will be me.

“It wont if we dont let it,” he confidently says, taking me aback. Its like he has everything planned out in his mind, and Im just playing along with his plan.

“Okay…” I let the word trail off, unsure what else to say.

He stretches his hand out for a handshake. “Friends?”

I acknowledge it. “Friends.”

Soon after, the ice wall between us is broken, and I cant stop talking with him. Maybe I should start to worry about how easy I feel whenever Im around him. Maybe I should start to worry about how he makes my stomach flip, something warm spreading through my body.

But no, we are just friends. Friends who fuck.