Just Friends With Benefits (13 page)

Oh, God. What am I doing? “Do you have something?”

“I’ve got it covered, Steph,” he said and with that, I followed him to the half bath.

As soon as he kissed me, I felt a flash of heat from the top of my head all the way down my body and any reluctance I had to be with him again disappeared just as quickly. Miraculously, I was no longer tired either. I was not a member of the mile high club and certainly wasn’t experienced having sex in bathrooms. It was dark and quite uncomfortable at first as we tried to make the most of the cramped space but it felt so good. Even in those moments, I was aware that I had never before allowed a physical need to take over the voice in my head telling me I was probably headed down the wrong path. Before Hille, I had never even had sex outside of some sort of relationship, but I just wanted to cling to him like Saran Wrap and stay like that in perpetuity. I kept repeating, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” The voice in my head tried to stop me from saying it out loud, but I couldn’t help myself.

After we finished, I held onto him tight and when I felt him pull away, I said, “Not yet,” my voice so breathy that I almost didn’t recognize it.

Hille said, “Okay.”

We stayed like that, not speaking and just breathing heavily until finally, I whispered, “I’ve never had a fuck buddy before, Craig.”

Hille whispered back, “We’re not fuck buddies, Steph.”

Although I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to know, I asked, “What are we, Craig?”

After a brief hesitation, as if pondering the answer, Hille pulled away and looked at me. Then he looked down while rubbing his thumb gently along his clean-shaven chin. Looking at me again, he smiled and said, “I got it. Friends with benefits!”

I didn’t note a trace of disrespect in his voice or malintent in his eyes and, although I wanted to tell him that friends with benefits wasn’t good enough for me, I was not ready to hear that my only choices were ‘friends with benefits’ or just ‘friends.’ I also felt like a hypocrite telling him I wasn’t ‘that kind of girl’ while naked in a bathroom after having sex with him, so instead, I said, “I never had one of those either.” Then we left the bathroom, went back to our respective make-shift beds and I wondered what the hell I was doing until I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of clanking pots and muddled voices coming from upstairs. I looked around, saw I was alone in the room and figured I was the last one up. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and comb my hair and tried not to think about what I had done in that room only a few hours prior. Then I joined the others upstairs. Everyone was either standing in the kitchen or sitting in the living room drinking coffee, which I needed bad.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Eric called from the top of the stairs as I made my way up. “I thought you might have died.”

“And you were so concerned you just left me there, huh?” I spotted Hille in the kitchen behind him, grinning at me when we made eye contact. I smiled at him a bit self-consciously and he asked if I needed a cup of coffee. “Yes! Desperately,” I answered.

Holding the coffee pot in his hands, he asked, “How do you take it?”

“Lots of half and half and two Equals. Thanks, Craig.” I sat down at the kitchen table with Hope and Paul and when Hille handed me my coffee, I said, “Thanks.” He just winked in response and went into the living room.

“How’d you sleep, Cohen?” Paul asked.

“Fine, why?” I asked.

“Just making conversation. Hung over?”

“A little,” I lied. Sleeping with Hille had sobered me up pretty quickly and I wasn’t even drunk by the time I went to sleep.

Later, we were all in the living room watching The Rose Bowl. Everyone was psyched that the Nittany Lions were beating the Trojans, except Paul.

“Any team named after a condom is the team for me,” he said.

Looking up from Eric and Jess’s wedding album (which I had already viewed at least 20 times), I said, “Really? Then why did you always try to guilt me into having sex without using one back in college?”

“Paul!” Hope shouted. “Were you trying to knock up a college freshman?”

“Nah. I had just heard it felt better without one and, at the time, I hadn’t tried it before. Chillax, Hope. I never knocked Stephanie up.”

They continued to mock-argue while I tried to figure out what Hille was thinking. He was standing by the staircase typing on his Blackberry. I wondered who would email him on New Year’s Day. I followed him with my eyes until he sat back down on the couch and took another sip of coffee. He caught me, smiled and stood up again. This time, he went to the bathroom and, with the door half opened, washed his hands.
Did it even register that we’d had sex in there?

Cutting into my meditation of the night’s events, I heard someone say, “Earth to Stephanie.”

I looked up and saw Eric standing over me with a train schedule. Waving it at me, he asked, “What time do you need to be back?”

I shrugged and answered, “I don’t know. Not too late. I hate getting home really late when I have work the next day.”

“There’s a four thirty that gets you into Union at six twenty-five. Does that work?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. Do you mind if I shower first? I feel dirty.” I felt my face flush as I said that, although I knew no one except Hille would think anything of it. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

Getting up from the couch where she was sitting, Jess said, “Come with me. I’ll get you some towels.”

“I know where the towels are, Jess. Sit down. I’m okay.”

Falling back down on the couch, Jess said, “Good! I’m too tired to walk upstairs!”

During my shower, I decided I didn’t regret having sex with Hille again. Sure, Hille had made it clear he wasn’t looking for a relationship with me, but he liked me and I liked him. We were attracted to each other and shared explosive sexual chemistry. Had Hille been some stranger I picked up at a bar, I’d feel regret. But Hille was my friend—a friend with benefits. There was nothing to regret.

I toweled off, combed my long, wet hair into a ponytail and threw on the t-shirt and sweatpants I had brought for the train ride home. I didn’t bother with makeup, figuring it was unlikely I’d meet anyone interesting on the train. My mother would probably have berated that decision but I lacked the motivation to care. When I got downstairs, everyone was still sitting where I’d left them.

Jess, still staring straight ahead at the television as if in a trance said, “Hille said he’d drive you to the train station. I’d do it but I’m beat and he’s gotta get going anyway. You don’t mind, do you?”

I shook my head and said, “Don’t mind.” Then I forced myself to look at Hille, who I could see out of the corner of my eye was looking at me, and asked, “You sure you don’t mind?”

“It’s no trouble,” Hille said. “But, we should get going soon. You just about ready?”

“Yep.” Gesturing to the clothes from the night before in my hands, I said, “Just gotta throw this stuff in my bag.”

We hugged and kissed everyone goodbye and then I walked with Hille to his car, a dark blue Nissan Altima parked across the street. After he put our bags in the trunk, he opened up the passenger side of the car to let me in. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, got in and started the car.

Playing with his GPS, Hille said, “Now let’s see if we can figure out how to get to the train station.”

“Thanks again for driving me, Craig.”

“It’s not a problem. Plus I could tell Jess didn’t really want to do it.” Hille turned his head to face me, his lips curled into a smile, and said, “No offense.”

“None taken. I wouldn’t want to take me to the train station either if I was comfy on my couch, recovering from a hangover.”

“You hung over?” Hille asked.

“Not really. Just tired. You?”

“Trying not to think about it. I’ve got a two hour drive ahead of me. Then I’ll sleep.”

As he said this, Hille reached down to scratch his right leg and I had an overwhelming desire to scratch it for him. He was wearing long shorts and I couldn’t help but notice how muscular his calves were. He looked like he played soccer, but actually wasn’t much of an athlete at all. And his legs were always tanned as if he lived in a warm climate instead of New Jersey.

“So, Paul and I were talking about renting a house at the beach somewhere over Memorial Day weekend.”

I tore my eyes away from Hille’s legs and looked up at him. “Wow, I didn’t know things had gotten so serious between you guys.”

Hille’s ears turned red as he rolled his eyes and said, “Seriously, if we rented a big house, would you want in?”

“I thought you were planning a trip to New Orleans?”

“I thought about it, but I like this idea better. If we got something on the east coast, maybe Charleston or Myrtle Beach, no one would have to fly and it would probably be cheaper.”

“Well, count me in. I have four more weeks of vacation beginning today, plus a week carried over from last year. And I love the beach.”

“It wouldn’t be anything fancy. Just eating, drinking and lying on the beach.”

“Are you suggesting I’m high-maintenance, Craig?”

“Not at all, although I did overhear a conversation between you and the girls this morning about some bare naked makeup. Probably not much need for makeup at the beach.”

“Bare Minerals, Craig, not, naked. Get your mind out of the gutter. And stop eavesdropping on conversations which don’t involve you while you’re at it!”

Hille smiled. “Guilty as charged. Maybe I was hoping to hear something a little bit more interesting.”

“Like what?” I paused for a moment. “Details about our hot sex last night?”

As I tried to make light of our friends-with-benefits relationship, Hille looked like I just pulled down his pants in front of the whole class. His face instantly turned the color of the traffic light we were approaching. But he quickly recovered and said, “Is that how you’d describe it—hot?”

And just like that, the tables were turned and I was the one blushing. Also recovering quickly, I said flirtatiously, “Maybe yes, maybe no. But, out of respect for our friendship, that’s what I’d tell everyone.”

Hille nodded and said, “Most appreciated. Would hate to get a reputation as being bad in bed, a premature ejaculator or any other cruel thing you girls say about us guys behind our backs.”

“Like you have a teeny weenie?” I suggested.

“Nope, wouldn’t want that either,” Hille said with a laugh.

Definitely no worries there
. “No worries.”

Pulling into the train station, Hille said, “We’re here.” He drove up to the entrance and parked his car temporarily to let me out. As he opened the trunk to remove my bag, I watched a young couple exchange a tearful goodbye. Handing me my duffle bag, he said, “Here you go. Are you okay waiting here by yourself?”

I wanted to say, “No. Wait with me. Tell me things about you that, after all these years, I still don’t know.” That’s what I wanted to say. But what I said was, “I’ll be fine.” Then I glanced around and added, “Looks like a pretty tame crowd.”

“Okay. Well, have a good trip.”

“Thanks. Thanks again for the ride—to the train station.” As I felt my face turn rosy, I wondered why I had to be such a loser. Hille smiled but didn’t respond. Hurriedly, I reached up, grabbed his arm to steady myself and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Okay, bye.” Then I hightailed it into the train station without looking back.

The train to Union was already on the track and after I found a car with seats facing in the forward direction, since riding backwards always gave me a headache, I put my duffle bag in the overhead compartment and re-lived my last few moments with Hille. To the train station? Why did I have to say that? It reminded me of when Baby told Johnny she “carried a watermelon” in
Dirty Dancing
. I laughed out loud and quickly glanced around hoping no one heard me. I had a feeling the train might be crowded since it was New Year’s Day. I was relieved that so far no one had sat next to me but, as if reading my thoughts and saying “not so fast,” a woman looking to be in her mid to late 40s stood over me.