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  I swear my heart stopped beating. "Did that happen to you?"

  "No." She shook her head. "But a friend of mine had some issues with this one guy. He just wouldn't take no for an answer. Kept calling her and stopping by, following her sometimes. It was scary there for a while."

  "What the hell makes people act like that?"

  "I don't know," she said. "Overblown sense of entitlement? Maybe they just get away with behaving that way so often that it seems like a good bet to them. Some people just seem to think violence is always the answer. Trying to control someone, having someone afraid of them must feel good to them I guess."

  I moved the ice pack aside, trying to see her better. Not that it worked with my eyelids all swollen. "I want you to know, I would never want you to be afraid of me."

  "I don't think too much investment in a relationship is a character flaw you're ever likely to blunder into." She smirked. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

  I frowned. "Not that we're together or anything..." Damn. "I didn't mean to say that. But, if you were ever in trouble or anything. If ever someone was hurting you, you know I'd help, right? I'll believe whatever you tell me. I wouldn't doubt you."

  Her smile was slow, hesitant. "Thank you, Eric."

  "Just wanted you to know."

  Silence.

  "Is the Advil kicking in yet?" she asked, setting the ice gently back on my eye.

  "I'm tough. I'll live."

  "Good to hear."

  I smothered a yawn. "Sorry. Tell me about your day."

  "Ah, well. Today, Ada and I tried our first mommy and me yoga class."

  "Did you enjoy it?"

  "It was fun." She leaned against my shoulder, relaxing. It didn't mean anything. With the way she was holding the ice pack, resting against me was easiest. Sure as hell, I didn't mind at all. This was definitely my idea of playing nurse.

  "Good."

  "Going out with her is getting easier with each practice too," she said. "I mean, I still have to carry a crazy amount of stuff. I have three separate bags, one for diaper changes, one for other emergencies, and one for toys and other distractions." She gave the sort of satisfied sigh that suggested she'd itemized and labeled each component to her heart's content. "But it's doable."

  "Glad to hear it."

  Suddenly, she grabbed my arm. "God, Eric."

  "What?"

  "I totally forgot I had something to show you. The black eye distracted me. Hold this." Then she grabbed my hand and attached it to the ice-filled facecloth. I did as told and she jumped off the couch, grabbing her cell from the table. Her finger dashed across the screen and then she was holding it up in front of my face.

  "She finally smiled?" I asked, incredulous.

  "Isn't that amazing?"

  There on the small screen was a shot of Ada with her little round face, button nose, the usual drool-covered chin, and a big toothless grin. God, my chest filled with warmth.

  "That's so awesome," I said.

  "Yeah. It was after a bottle."

  "Fair enough, food makes me happy too."

  Laughing softly, she swiped through to the next picture. Same grin, slightly less drool.

  "She's beautiful, just like her mom," I said.

  Beside me, Jean stiffened. "You think I'm beautiful?"

  "I, ah--"

  "Wait. Stop."

  I did so.

  "You were just being kind." She sat on the edge of the couch, tossing her cell onto the coffee table. "That never happened. God, how embarrassing."

  Shit. Did friends not tell friends they were a goddess sent to an undeserving planet? I mean, Joe, Pat, and Taka would happily slap me on the back and tell me I was a dickhead. Which everyone knew was basically bro code for "I love you" or something like that. Letting them know how I felt about them wasn't a big deal. Dad would just kind of grunt at me, but that was Dad. Surely complimenting a female friend wasn't totally out of the question.

  "I've never mentioned that before?" I asked. "Seriously? Thought I had."

  She turned to face me, brows drawn in.

  "I figured it was obvious. I mean, you just are." I shrugged. "That a problem? I'm not hitting on you either. Promise."

  She didn't seem convinced.

  "I mean, it's not even about me," I protested. "It's not like I think you're gorgeous. You just are. Objective fact. Nothing to do with my opinion. It's like someone saying to Joe that he's tall. And everyone would be like, thanks, Captain Obvious. It's like that."

  Yep, good one. Also, I wasn't rambling at all.

  And still, she said nothing.

  "Christ, I've done the wrong thing again, haven't I?"

  "No."

  With all of the weirdness in the air, it was hard to believe her. "Thanks for the ice, Jean. I'll, um, let you get to bed."

  She stood and so did I, heading for the door. Maybe I'd send Joe a text and ask him to ask Alex if I'd messed things up. Not that I really wanted anyone sticking their nose into what went on between Jean and me. But constantly being confused as fuck got old fast. I'd only come here in the hope of some sympathetic attention to my wounded face, after all.

  "'Night," she said, holding open the door.

  I just gave her a chin tip and headed for my place. Face throbbing, feet weary, and all around over life. At least until tomorrow morning. I fished my keys out of my pocket and unlocked my front door. Peace, quiet, and darkness. Perfect. Except the door had no sooner shut than someone started knocking on it.

  When I opened said door, Jean stood there, eyes huge for some reason. "Eric, I've been thinking..."

  "Since I left ten seconds ago?"

  "A bit longer than that, actually."

  "Okay." I leaned against the door frame, crossing my arms and trying to feel defensive. But I could guess what was coming. This was how all my efforts to be friends with a girl were going to end. Having not properly read the how-to-not-be-a-dick manual that everyone else in the world seemed to have a copy of, I'd opened my mouth and screwed the whole thing up. The perfectly fucked ending to a perfectly fucked evening.

  Her gaze shifted back to her own door, then to her bare feet, to my face, then off to the side again.

  "Jean?" Just get it over with, and let me curl up in a heap in the corner of my bed.

  "Ithinkweshouldstartsleepingtogether."

  "What did you say?" I leaned in closer. "I didn't quite catch that."

  The woman took a very deep breath. "I realize you've been taking a break from sex, but I've been thinking, and maybe it would be okay if you and I were like friends who took things into the bedroom," she said, and then rattled on without pause. "No pressure about the sex or anything. Neither of us are in a place to be thinking long term and we've both got so much going on that attempting a relationship would just be crazy. But I feel comfortable with you and I think that most of the time you feel comfortable with me too. And we both find each other attractive, it seems. At least, you said I was beautiful so I'm hoping you find me sexually attractive as well. If you don't that's totally fine. Like I said, no pressure. Either way, whether we have sex or not, we'd still definitely remain friends. I mean, of course we'd stay friends. You're one of the people I'm closest to here, I don't know what I'd do if we stopped talking, and you're so great with Ada too. She absolutely adores you. So this whole sex thing would be totally separate from our friendship. Or it would be like, an addition to it. But not in the way that I expect it to go anywhere. Just two people who really like each other in a friendly platonic way having sex."

  I just stared. No wonder she'd taken a deep breath.

  "Wait, does that make sense?" She frowned at her own words. "Platonic sex?"

  "You keep saying sex."

  "I do, yes."

  "My brain kind of got a bit stuck on that." I ran my tongue over my teeth, giving myself a moment to sort it all out in my head. I had failed to grasp the way this conversation was going to go, and it was taking me a moment to catch up. "Platonic friends who have
sex ... that's what you're suggesting?"

  She raised her hand, fingers twitching. "Platonic is probably the wrong word there."

  "Probably."

  "Though in my defense, I'm sure Plato himself would have had sex and he's kind of where the word came from and everything."

  "Right. Good that that's settled."

  "Um, anyway," she said, taking a step back. "You think about it. I'm going to go back into my apartment now and maybe we'll talk about this later or maybe we won't."

  "We'll talk about this later. That's a definite."

  "Sure. Okay." Then the woman turned and ran back down the hallway, disappearing into her place. She could really move when she wanted to.

  I stood in the now empty space, my brain not only hurting, but quite possibly more confused than ever. Jean wanted to have sex. At least, I was pretty sure that's what her word vomit had been about. Unless the knock to the head had made me delusional. There was always a small chance. And the woman might think she and I getting horizontal would change nothing. But that was crap. Against all expectations, I'd gotten to a place in my life where I was pretty much best friends with a woman. I loved talking to her. I loved hearing about her day. She was funny and cool and kind and this could ruin everything.

  "I should say no," I mumbled.

  Dammit.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "Hold up," said my brother, forkful of bacon hovering in front of his face. "Eric, are you actually complaining because a woman you're attracted to wants to have sex with you?"

  I paused. "Yes."

  "Honestly, I don't know what to do with that."

  Mom just laughed.

  There weren't many topics we couldn't talk about in front of her. After hitting the gym in the morning, I'd ask Joe if he wanted to go talk Mom into cooking us breakfast. Usually, if I gave her really sad puppy dog eyes, she'd cave. Either that or pat me on the cheek and tell me to grow up. There was an even chance of either happening. That was our mom. She'd been a nurse for pretty much forever, so my black eye and pain meant little. Apparently, today had been my lucky day and she'd put out a full breakfast spread. Bacon, eggs, link sausage, biscuits. Meanwhile, Dad was hiding out in the shed making bird boxes or something. I don't know.

  "She's going to ruin our friendship," I said, finishing up chewing. "And it'll be all her fault, not mine ... for a change."

  "Don't eat with your mouth open," admonished Mom.

  "Nell would skin you alive." Joe chugged down some coffee. "You know that."

  "Nope," I said. "I promised not to hit on Jean and I didn't. She hit on me. Therefore, I'm off the hook."

  Joe snorted. "Like that'd save you."

  "C'mon, nothing I do is going to make Nell happy. I'm over even trying."

  "Think you're probably right there," he said. "You've turned yourself around at work, been putting in a lot more effort. I've noticed."

  "Thanks."

  "You decided to grow up, huh?" Mom smiled. "Good for you. I always knew you were capable of great things if you put your mind to it."

  "I'll settle for average things," I said. "Great would probably take took much effort. 'Eric the Adequate,' that's what they'll call me. You'll see."

  Mom smacked a kiss on my cheek.

  "What about me?" asked Joe. Whiny little jerk.

  "Don't worry," said Mom. "You're both my favorite."

  I shook my head. "You always say that."

  "One day you're going to have make a choice, Mom," said Joe.

  She pretended to think it over. "All right, I choose Alex. Alex is my favorite."

  I looked to heaven. "That's cheating."

  "She's my girlfriend, Mom," said Joe. "Not your child."

  "We've welcomed her into the family. She's basically my adopted daughter."

  "I can't sleep with my adopted sister," complained Joe. "Don't be creepy."

  Mom cackled. Her own jokes amused her. I think I had inherited that trait too.

  "You raised me slightly better than that," said Joe.

  "I'd hope so." Mom smirked.

  We'd grown up in this bungalow near Sandy Beach. The area had skyrocketed pricewise in the last decade or so. No way would we be able to afford it these days. If Mom and Dad ever decided to sell up, they'd probably make a tidy sum. It was a nice house. Though Mom was way more into pastels than anyone needed to be. I'd tried to talk her into modernizing the place, giving it a fresh coat of paint. Little had changed since Joe and I were kids. With the exception of Mom turning my room into a craft room and Joe's into a dressing room for Dad. Apparently, Mom needed the bulk of the household cupboard space for her clothes and crap. I highly doubt Dad minded. Hell, he probably hadn't even noticed. Football and building shit was Dad's whole world. A big part of why we'd never really bonded.

  "When do I get to meet your Jean?" asked Mom. "And her baby. Have you got any new pictures to show me?"

  "Ada's just started smiling, but I haven't got a picture of her doing it yet," I said. "And she's not my Jean. She's just Jean."

  "Jean who you're very enamored with and about to get more involved with."

  "Who even says 'enamored' these days?" muttered Joe.

  Mom ignored him. "Eric, you don't sound like you're ready to take that step with her."

  "It's what she wants."

  "You know it'll change things." Mom watched me carefully.

  "I know."

  "How would this work, exactly?" asked Joe. "Just out of curiosity."

  "Dude, you want me to explain the birds and the bees to you?"

  In response, he gave me the bird. Quite fitting.

  "No fighting at the table," said Mom. "Go wrestle in the backyard if you must."

  "It's too cold."

  "Yeah, Mom," I said. "You trying to kill us from exposure or something?"

  "Not right this minute, no," she replied calmly, nibbling on a biscuit. "Eric, I want you to bring your new girlfriend and her baby to dinner some night."

  "She's not my girlfriend, Mom. She was very explicit about that. Said she wants a platonic--" I checked myself before stumbling down that path. "Anyway, she just wants to stay friends and I want us to stay friends too. I've never really had a female friend before. Well, Nell and Lydia don't really count. I've never been tight with them like I am with Jean. There's a lot to lose if things go south, you know?" I shook my head forlornly. "It would have been better if she had never made the offer. The thing is just a disaster waiting to happen."

  "That's very mature of you, darling," said Mom. "Still, you need to think about the best way of politely saying no. You don't want her to feel rejected, when you're actually doing it because you value her friendship so much."

  "What?" I spluttered. "Say no? Why on earth would I do that?"

  My brother burst out laughing. "As if."

  "The woman wants to have sex with me, and I'm going out of my mind over her." I shrugged. "Besides, who am I to deny her? If everything goes to hell, it'll obviously be her fault. I'm totally in the clear on this one."

  Mom just sat there, mouth open.

  "Not that I would blame her or anything, because she's one of my best friends," I said quickly. "Got to look after her feelings and all that."

  "God, Eric turning down Jean." Joe wiped tears from his eyes. "Like that would ever happen. He's been hung up on her for months now. You're hilarious, Mom."

  For a long moment, our mom said nothing. Finally, she picked up her cup and took a long sip of coffee, her gaze less than impressed for some reason.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Nothing, dear." She sighed. "Nothing at all."

  *

  Mom's weirdness about the whole situation got me thinking. When I got back home, I texted Jean to see if she was up for a chat. It wouldn't hurt to get a few ground rules established before we started bumping hips. Not that I wanted to delay the bumping of said hips. But with Ada's unpredictable routine, it was possible we wouldn't be hitting the mattress anytime soon anyway.

&n
bsp; Hopefully it wouldn't be too long. The idea that we might make an official date for sex and then have to patiently wait until the duly appointed hour was liable to drive me out of my sweet mind. Though given Jean's love of organization and Ada's need for routine that might be exactly how it happened. Guess I could do with a lesson in patience.

  I'd barely knocked when the door flew open, Jean standing there with a frown on her pretty face and a baby on her shoulder. "Hey."

  "Hi," I said quietly, just in case Ada was on her way to sleep. "Everything okay?"

  "Sure."

  "You seem down."

  "No, no. Come in." She headed back inside, the baby's little head moving as she sucked on her fingers. Jean lay her down carefully on her blanket under the jungle gym. Ada immediately smiled and started laying into her old friend the dangling turtle. Man, she really had it in for that guy.

  "See? Violence does make her happy," I said, grinning down at her. "Don't know why she didn't get into the movie the other day."

  "Her moods are mercurial." Jean picked up her cell and pressed play on some baby-friendly classical music mix. It wasn't Janis Joplin, but it wasn't bad. At any rate, Ada seemed content.

  "Anyway," I said, exhaling hard. "I thought we should talk."

  "It's okay, Eric. You don't have to."

  "Huh?"

  "Everything's been so good between us," she said. "It was stupid of me to rock the boat. Can we just pretend that me propositioning you never happened?"

  "No." I shook my head, adamant. "Absolutely not. That would be like canceling Christmas or breaking a bottle of my favorite single malt."

  She cocked her head. "It would be?"

  "Yes. It would be terrible."

  "Oh."

  "You can't just ask me to..." I looked down at Ada. "You know. Do that thing. And then change your mind."

  Her brows rose in surprise.

  "Unless you've actually changed your mind, which would be totally fine," I quickly inserted. "Have you changed your mind?"

  She froze.

  "Please don't have changed your mind. I'm willing to beg if that would help at all."

  "No, that's okay." Her smile was magnificent. Thrilling. Amazing. All of these things and more. The kind of grin to weaken a man's knees and harden his cock. Then she too peeked down at her happily playing daughter and said, "Let's discuss this in the hallway."

  "Sure."

  The woman grabbed my hand and towed me around the corner and out of the infant's sight, into the little hallway that led to my bathroom. And the bedroom.