Page 116 of The Wedding Menu

He blinks, and as he runs the numbers in his head, he closeshis eyes. “Shit.” His shoulders drop, and with an apologetic look, he takes my hand. “I can’t believe I forgot. Why didn’t you say anything? We would have gone out for dinner or something before the bachelorette party.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say with a whiff of apprehension. “That isn’t what I want to talk about.”

“No, Ames. Of course it matters. I should have—”

“Last night, when you left, I—” I cut him off as my heart skips a beat. Unable to meet his eyes, I focus on the dark brew inside my cup. “I was so angry. I felt lonely, and I needed to—I wanted to—”

Leaning backward, he studies me. “You’re scaring me. What happened?”

“I…” God, I’m going to faint. “I was with Ian. We had—we…”

His hand leaves mine, and though I know I owe him the respect to look into his eyes while I tell him what happened, I still can’t bring myself to do it. “Ian?” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t he live in Mayfield?”

“Yes.”

“So how—you invited him over?”

“I called him.” He watches me with a confused expression. “We had… we—phone sex.”

“Phone sex.”

I nod. He remains still for a while, and I do, too, as I wait for his reaction. Then his lips curve into a smile and he bursts out laughing, immediately clamping his hand over his mouth when he sees the look of horror on my face. “Phone sex? What the hell does that mean? You—you listened to each other?”

“Y-yeah.”

With his cup set on the table, he snorts derisively. His shoulders shake, his fingers pressing his eyes as chuckles bubble out of his lips despite the fact that he’s obviously trying to hold them back.

I’m not sure how to react.

“Okay, well… I thought—” He suppresses his smile, his fingers scratching his head. “It’s not like you hadsexwith him.”

My eyes bug out. Not that I’d like to dig a deeper grave for myself, but I did. “I—phone sex is… sex. It’s right there in the word.”

“Yeah, but he never touched you. He didn’t even see you.”

So? That’s not what sex is about. Seeing and touching. Okay, I guess those are a big part of it. But the point of sex is an emotional connection, and the point of me doing it with someone else is that I have none with Frank.

“Right. So you don’t mind,” I say, dramatically waving my hand. “No big deal.”

“No, of course I mind. But… it’s like you watched a porno. Less, actually. Like you listened to a guy jerking off.” He bursts out laughing again. “I’m sorry, but it’s so… pathetic. Why would he do that?”

He uses the cup to hide his next chuckle, and I don’t know what to say. It’s not pathetic that hearing me masturbate would turn him on enough to do it himself. It’s not pathetic that what we did was the most intimate sex I’ve ever experienced. What’s pathetic is the way he’s reacting.

“I have feelings for him,” I hear myself say. The words drag out of my lips, but as soon as I pronounce them, I know I wouldn’t take them back even if I could. This is the most sensible thing I’ve said in the past six months, isn’t it? I don’t know why I tried to keep my feelings buried. Why I tried to deny them as strenuously as I did. To what end? It’s so much easier to put it all out there. Now Frank can do with this information whatever he pleases.

He sets his cup down, all signs of amusement gone from his face. “What are you talking about?”

“You heard me. I have feelings for Ian.”

We stare at each other, and for a second I hardly recognize him. His brows are taut, his jaw set, his lips twisted in a disgusted sneer. “Because he jerked off on a phone call?”

“No. Last night has nothing to do with it.”

“Really? Because you might think he’s interested in you, but he’s only after one thing. And trust me, it isn’t marriage.”

I open my mouth to speak, then close it. Frank knows nothing about Ian, and I’d point that out if it weren’t for the fact that he’s dead right. Ian doesn’t want a marriage, a wedding. He wants parties on Tuesdays and dates on Thursdays. Still, it has nothing to do with my feelings for him.

“Okay, fine.” He rubs a hand over his beard, his glasses fogging up as if his anger is heating up his face. “You have a crush. We said our agreement stood as long as there was nothing emotional, so just stop talking to him.”