Page 34 of Friends with Benefits

My cheeks burned, though there was no one to see my embarrassment. I pressed the backs of the fingers from my free hand to them. Never in my life had I ever slept around for the fun of it. My mom used to do that during the times she and my father were separated, and I had made it a point once I did have sex to only do it with people I truly cared about.

That included Tripp, didn’t it? I cared about him. Aside from Charlie and Layla, he was one of my closest friends.

The truth was, I didn’t have any answers. I liked to think I made mature decisions when it came to my life, the kids, and my job, but I didn’t know what the hell I was doing half the time. Clearly. The only thing I did a really good job at was pretending.

Pretending to have it all together.

Pretending not to care that my mother abandoned us.

Pretending I didn’t like Tripp as more than a friend.

The smart thing to do would be to tell Tripp we couldn’t do it again, but, oh, God, how I wanted to. I don’t think anyone had ever made me feel so good, which, for some reason, made me feel guilty because not being with Chris was still so new. New, but it already felt like it had been a long time.

In fact, my sisters aside, I was considerably less stressed without him in my life. I didn’t worry about how he’d react to me having even less time to be with him or his judgments about my mother leaving. Now that I was thinking about it, he never would have been as understanding as Tripp had been. Judgmental was the word I’d use to describe him. Aloof.

Maybe that’s why I’d been drawn to Chris in the first place, back when Tripp had been so overtly interested in being more than friends. Maybe a part of me had known, even then, that we weren’t going to work out. Chris was safe because I knew it would never lead anywhere. That didn’t mean I didn’t care about him. Of course I did, and maybe it made me a little heartless for moving on so quickly. But we were never going to make it. Maybe it hurt so much in the beginning because he was my comfort zone. As long as I was with him, I knew what to expect. I could control the outcome.

Controlling the outcome with Tripp…was impossible.

I fell asleep pondering my next move and listening to the podcast. When I woke up as the tones dropped, I came to the conclusion that maybe I shouldn’t fight it. Maybe the best thing to do with Tripp…was to enjoy it.

As I got ready, my phone beeped with a text message.

JANET: We’ll be in town this morning. I’ll drop the girls off at your apartment, if that’s okay.

I texted her that it would be wonderful before I headed out with my partner on the call.

When I got home a couple of hours later, Tripp was already there, fixing our leaky sink. I paused in the doorway to watch him, admiring the sliver of his abdomen bared by his shirt. The muscles contracted as he grunted and reached higher under the sink, metal clanging against metal.

Is there anything sexier than a man fixing something? I don’t think so.

He peered out at the sound of the door closing and smiled when his eyes found me. “Hey, you.”

I leaned against the kitchen island, my eyes tired from lack of sleep but hungry for him, nonetheless. “Hey. Did you all of a sudden acquire a thirst for being a handyman?”

“I’ve got skills you’ve never seen,” he said with a wink, then turned his attention back to the sink. “I’ve also got a rare day off from practice. I figured we could move the twins’ room around if you’re up to it.”

I couldn’t deny the thought had crossed my mind. They deserved their own space, and I could use a little more privacy, come to think of it. We’d shared a room since they were brought home from the hospital.

“Your mom is bringing them by in a while. Maybe we could surprise them.”

He looked back at me, surprise lining his face, which was quickly chased by wariness. “Really? I didn’t think you’d agree with me so easily. I expected more of a fight.”

“Maybe I could use some more privacy,” I teased.

That made him choke a little. “Well, alright then,” he answered.

Much as I wanted to drag him naked to my bed, or anywhere, I knew the girls would be back soon, and if we were going to get their stuff moved to my parent’s room, we had a lot of work to do. Maybe this was the friend part of friends with benefits. He had no other excuse for wanting to help me all the time the way he did.

In the end, we managed to clear out my mom and dad’s room. I packed away their things into boxes I’d nabbed from the grocery store. Tripp and I lugged their bed and dresser to the dump. Both had an oily residue and smelled strongly of cigarettes. It occurred to me that their carpets were probably cigarette soaked, too, so I moved my things into my parents’ room instead of moving the twins into the room.

I was used to the smell of smoke anyway, and my lungs weren’t nearly as sensitive as theirs.

Most of my stuff I stacked on my bed until I could reorganize it later. The most important thing was to make sure the girls’ room was straightened and pretty. I wanted them to feel secure and at home. They’d had enough change, and I wanted to give them something that would make them happy.

Tripp maneuvered their bunk beds onto the wall where my bed had been. I brought in a bookcase from the living room and gave it a good scrubbing before filling it with their little things and books. In the end, it wasn’t half bad, I had to admit. Eventually, I would like to get them more decorations and knick-knacks to really make it their own, but for now, this was more than they’d ever had, and it felt good. Really good.

Mine, on the other hand, was a bit more run-down. Years of smoke had stained the once cream-colored walls and ceiling. The floor was worn bare from overuse, but it was spacious without the girls’ furniture, and the door was solid. It was mine. It was warm. I couldn’t ask for much more.