Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
My lips quirk upward as my head tilts. “Well, of course, we can be friends, too. You know I love your dad, and I’m always going to be here to support him, you, and your mother. You have that.”
Rafe’s expression turns contemplative for a moment, his eyes shadowing skeptically. “So, let me get this straight… We’re friends again, and we can have no-strings sex?”
“Friends with benefits,” I reply with a brilliant smile. “It’s a win-win situation for us both.”
Rafe chuckles and shakes his head. He peers down at me, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. Instead, he pivots to walk back into the kitchen. “You’re a strange one, Calliope Ramirez. I guess it’s why I adore you so much.”
“You can’t say things like that,” I point out as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out two bottles of beer.
“Oh, right,” he drawls with a sly look. “That might imply something deeper than just friends with benefits.”
“Exactly,” I reply pertly, accepting the beer he holds out to me. I twist the cap and give him an appraising look. “Want to have sex now or later?”
“Why now, of course,” he replies seriously, setting his bottle of beer down on the counter. “Here? Bedroom? Couch? Floor? So many choices.”
I giggle and set my beer down, too. “Let’s start with the bedroom.”
CHAPTER 9
Rafe
It’s sort of like old times. Dinner at the Ramirez house. They invited my parents and me over, and Calliope is here, too, of course. I can’t count the number of times throughout my childhood that we ate over here or they came to our house. The Ramirezes and the Simmonses were lifelong friends, their kids growing closer and closer as each year passed.
Tonight is the first time I’ve seen Mateo and Danielle Ramirez since I returned to Raleigh, though. Although I did see them infrequently over the years when I managed a quick visit to see my parents. They are as warm and welcoming as ever, not seeming to hold any grudges against me for breaking their daughter’s heart eight years ago. Of course, I have no clue exactly what they know about the situation, but if I were a betting man, I’d say they know everything. Calliope is incredibly close to both her mom and dad and I expect they helped her pick up the pieces when I shattered her.
I also expect one of the reasons they might have put that all aside, making me feel welcome in their home right now, is because my dad is dying. Mateo is definitely the type of father that would take me aside and threaten to kick my ass for hurting his daughter, but he’s also a good man. He’s probably acting with some type of restraint, thinking that I’m facing a set of terrible circumstances right now.
Regardless, we have a great time. Danielle makes Mateo’s favorite Puerto Rican dish of arroz con gandules and fried plantains. Growing up, it was one of my favorites, too.
I know I’m not the only one who notices my dad picking at his food, not because he doesn’t like it but because his appetite is at an all-time low. He seems frailer today than he did yesterday and the day before, and I wonder if there will be any good days left.
Still, he puts on a brave face, and there’s a lot of laughter around the table as the rest of us scrape our plates clean.
It’s been three days since Calliope and I reconnected at Podden’s pond, and I’m not ashamed to say that she and I have been doing a whole lot more connecting since. The Cold Fury has been on break until the second round of the playoffs start tomorrow, and we take on the Boston Eagles, and I’ve been splitting my hours between spending time with my dad and hanging with Calliope. While she works at the hospital during the day, I attend team practices and meetings or sit by my dad’s hospital bed as we play cards or watch TV. In the evenings after I eat dinner with my parents, I head over to Calliope’s apartment.
She greets me with open arms, sometimes wearing nothing but some skimpy underwear which I definitely approve of. This is the new Calliope, a woman I’m getting to know all over again. Lingerie wasn’t part of our teenage relationship. That was more about stolen moments when we could get them. But, fuck, I hate thinking about how she learned the art of seducing a man while wearing silk and lace.
I put that out of my mind, which is actually easy because when I’m near her, I’m consumed. To say that sex is different with her is an understatement. Again, it chafes at me hard to know that the things she now knows how to do with her mouth and her body she learned somewhere other than with me. And while Calliope was always forward and adventurous during our young, immature sex life, now she’s openly wanton, and it turns me on more than anything ever has in my life.