Seventeen

Sebastian picked up the knife and cut several turkey sandwiches in half. He placed them on a plate and grabbed a tube of Pringles. He’d never flown a woman in just so he could spend the day in bed with her. But then he didn’t think he’d ever been with a woman quite like Clare before.

Wearing only his underwear, he grabbed lunch and walked from the kitchen. He’d picked Clare up that morning from Sea-Tac, and it wasn’t until he’d watched her come down the escalator toward him, looking gorgeous in her black coat and red scarf, that he realized how much he liked being with her. They had a lot in common. She was smart and beautiful and didn’t make demands. More important, she was just easy to be with. In his experience, once a man had sex with a woman more than twice, they always brought up the R word-relationship-which was always followed closely by the C word-commitment. Women just couldn’t seem to relax. They always had to complicate things.

He walked into his bedroom and his gaze went to Clare, sitting in the center of his bed, a tangle of white sheets pulled up beneath her armpits. “There’s nothing to watch but football,” she said with disgust as she flipped through television channels with the remote. “I hate to watch football. I dated a guy once who taped all the games.”

Her hair was a mess and there was a pink sucker bite on her shoulder. “I watch football if there’s nothing better to do.” He set the plate on the edge of the bed and crawled toward her. He handed her half a sandwich and kissed the mark. He liked the way her skin smelled and the taste of her in his mouth.

“I broke up with him when I caught him watching football while we were having sex.” She took a bite, then swallowed. “He’d turned on the television but kept the sound on mute so I wouldn’t know.”

“Sneaky bastard.” Sebastian popped the top of the Pringles can and ate a few.

“Yeah. I’m a sneaky bastard magnet.” She turned off the television and tossed the remote on the bed. “Which is why I’m taking a break from men.”

He paused mid-chew. “What am I?”

“You’re just a friend with benefits. And believe me, after Lonny, I need the benefit of benefits.” She laughed and took another bite.

Which was one more reason he liked her. He handed her some chips and grabbed half a sandwich for himself. “Tell me something. If you’re a girl who likes lots of benefits, and we both know that you are, how did you end up engaged to a gay man? Wanting to please your mother only explains it to a point.”

She thought a moment as she scarfed several Pringles. “It happened little by little. At first the relationship was fairly typical. He was less sexual than other boyfriends, but I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. I loved him. And if you love someone, you have to be accepting. Then once you’re that deep in denial, you really don’t see anything. Actually, you probably don’t want to see it.” She shrugged. “And other than sex, there really wasn’t one huge sign. Just lots of little signs that I ignored.”

“Like that lacy, girly girl crap hanging over your bed. A heterosexual guy wouldn’t have put up with sleeping under that.”

She looked at him and pushed her hair behind one ear. “You did.”

He shook his head. “I have sex under it. I don’t sleep under lace.” Which reminded him of the sex they’d just had. It started by his front door and ended in a naked tangle on his bed. She’d been as hot for him as he had been for her, and for a man to know a woman wanted him as much as he wanted her was a powerful aphrodisiac. The sex would have been even better if it hadn’t been for the condom she’d asked him to wear.

“I thought you trusted me without a condom,” he said and ate a chip.

“I did trust you.” She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. “But I assume you are seeing other women now and I have to be careful.”

“Seeing other women? Since last weekend? Thanks for the compliment, but I don’t move that fast.” He’d assumed she hadn’t seen anyone, and the thought that she might have bothered him more than he wanted to admit. “Have you been with another man?”

She recoiled. “No.”

“Then why don’t we keep it that way?” He reached for a bottle of water and unscrewed the cap.

“Are you saying you want to be sexually exclusive? Both of us?”

He took a drink of water, then handed to her. He liked the idea of Clare only having sex with him, and he didn’t want to have sex with another woman. “Sure.”

“Can you do that?”

He scowled at her. “Yeah. Can you?”

“I just meant that you live in a different state.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ll be visiting my father a lot, and believe me, I’ve gone without sex before. I didn’t like it but I survived.”

She took a drink and seemed deep in thought before she handed him back the bottle. “Okay, but Sebastian, if and when you find someone, you have to tell me.”

“Find someone? Find someone to what?”

She simply stared at him.

“Okay.” He leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder. “If I get tired of you, I’ll tell you.”

She slid her hand up his chest and scattered goose bumps across his skin. “I noticed you didn’t mention what happens if I get tired of you first.”

He laughed and pushed her down on the bed. That wasn’t likely to happen.

After they finished lunch, they showered and left the apartment for what Sebastian had thought would be a quick trip to Pacific Place Mall. He wasn’t big on shopping and he didn’t own a lot of clothing. He had a few Hugo Boss suits and some dress shirts, but he much preferred cargo pants, where he could stash gear, and comfy cotton T-shirts from Eddie Bauer. In fact, shopping was one of his least favorite things to do, but for some reason he allowed himself to be dragged around downtown Seattle while Clare tried on racks of clothing, inspected numerous handbags, and got a crazed look in her eyes when she discovered silver shoes in Nordstrom.

After the fifth store and numerous bags, Sebastian relaxed and just took it all in. He couldn’t say he had fun, but it was interesting. Clare had a definite style and knew what she wanted when she saw it. By the time they walked into Club Monaco, he could predict what would draw her attention.

That morning when he picked her up from the airport, he’d wondered why she’d brought two big suitcases for such a short trip. Now he knew.

Clare was a classic shopaholic.

Later that evening Sebastian took her to the New Year’s Eve party of his former college friend, Jane Alcot-Martineau. He’d known Jane long before she’d gotten herself hyphenated. They’d attended the same journalism classes at the University of Washington, and while Sebastian had taken off after graduation to freelance across the country and eventually the globe, Jane had stuck around Seattle. She’d eventually landed a job at the Seattle Times, where she’d met and married hockey goalie Luc Martineau. They’d been married for a few years and lived in an apartment not far from Sebastian’s. They had a one-year-old son, James, and Luc’s sister Marie lived with them while she attended school.

“Are you sure Clare’s just a friend?” Jane asked as she handed him a Pyramid ale.

Sebastian stared down at the five-foot-one woman beside him, then turned his gaze to Clare, who was talking to a tall thin blond woman, her red-haired boyfriend, and a beefy Russian defenseman. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Clare wore a shiny silver tube of a dress that looked like she’d been wrapped up in tinfoil, then had someone take their hands and press it against her body. The dress wasn’t exactly scandalous, but several times during the evening, Sebastian noticed a few muscle-necked hockey players unwrapping her with their eyes. When they found out she was a romance writer, their interest intensified. He knew what the bastards were thinking.

“’Cause you look like you’re ready to cross-check Vlad,” Jane said.

Sebastian carefully unfolded his arms from across the chest of his blue dress shirt and took a drink of his beer. “Do you think I can take him?”

“Heck no. He’d kick your sissy reporter butt.” Jane had always been almost as smart as she was a smartass. “He’s ‘Vlad the Impaler’ for a reason. Once you get to know him, he’s a nice enough guy.” She shook her head and her short black hair brushed her cheek. “If you didn’t want these guys to hit on her, you shouldn’t have introduced her as your ‘friend.’”

Jane was probably right, but introducing her as his girlfriend seemed too soon. And Clare probably wouldn’t have appreciated it if he’d said, “This girl is mine so back the hell off!” Clare might not be his girlfriend, but she was his date, and he didn’t like watching other men move in on her. “You do know that I was kidding, don’t you?”

“About taking on Vlad? Yeah. About Clare being ‘just a friend,’ I think you’re kidding yourself.”

He opened his mouth to argue but Jane walked away to join her husband. Later that night as he watched Clare sleep, he wondered what it was about her that drew him in and refused to let go. It wasn’t just the sex. It was something else. All that shopping she’d subjected him to should have cooled his interest. But it hadn’t. Perhaps it was that she had no expectations. She didn’t seem to want anything from him, and the more she kept her distance, the more he wanted to pull her closer.

At six the next morning Sebastian woke, restless, and yanked on a T-shirt and a pair of cargo pants. While Clare slept, he started a pot of coffee, and as it brewed he called his dad. It was seven o’clock in Boise, but he knew Leo was an early riser. His relationship with his father was improving slowly with each visit. They weren’t exactly close, but both of them were making a real effort to repair the damage of the past.