The Casual Rule (12 page)

“I’m sorry. I have a 6:00 A.M. appointment with my trainer tomorrow. I’m running a marathon in Brooklyn in December. He’s been training with me before he meets with his regular clients at the gym. I’d have to get up at five to get back to my place, change and go to the park to meet him.”

Looking at his body, there’s no doubt he works out. Running a marathon doesn’t surprise me. My gut says he’s telling the truth and not ducking. It’s already late. I can see his point.

“Okay,” I say, looking down at the duvet covering me.

“Hey, look at me,” he says. I look up and meet his gaze. “I had a good time.”

“Me too.” I smile and nod. “Anyway, it’s for the best; my paying customers are due here in a half hour.” I’ve always found making a joke helps me deal with disappointment. Allie says I use humor as a defense mechanism. Maybe… but it works. I hope he doesn’t see through it.

“There’s that quick wit.” Ben gets out of bed and dresses himself. A hollow feeling fills me as I watch him buttoning up his shirt. I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel this way in a
casual
relationship. I don’t know much right now.

No, no. This is for the best. This is good. No awkward morning after is a bonus…it’s too… relationshipy. Sex and fun… That’s all I’m looking for and that’s exactly what he delivered.

“Walk me to the door?” he asks, holding out his hand.

“Sure.” I tighten the sash around my robe and place my hand in his, as he helps me off the bed.

We walk quietly through the apartment. Ben picks his coat up off the floor where we left it in our “get naked fast” frenzy and puts it on. We stand at the front door facing each other.

“Thank you, Julia. Tonight was the best. You really are incredible.”

“Thank you for cooking dinner… and the orgasms.” I smirk.

“Believe me, it was my pleasure.” He laughs. “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’d like that. But we have to be cool when we work together. I don’t want Vivian to know about us. We have to keep things professional between us at Wisteria.”

“Ashamed of me?” He pouts, jokingly holding his hands to his heart.

“Yes, you’re my charity fuck,” I deadpan.

“You’re very poetic for an editor. Ever think of writing?”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” I laugh.

“Good. I’ll be in touch. Good night, Julia.” He sweetly kisses my lips and leaves.

“Good night, Ben.” I close the door, leaning my forehead on it, wondering what the hell I just got myself into.

Chapter 6

I feel like I just came off a gang bang bender. My nether regions are sore as hell. This must be what a virgin bride feels like the morning after her wedding night. Shit, I ache. It’s going to be a bitch to walk. Sex with Ben was definitely a workout. I sit up and wince when I stretch. I’ve stretched muscles I haven’t used in a long, long time. I need to exercise more often if I want to keep up with him. God, I hate exercise… maybe yoga. Yoga’s not real exercise, is it? That ought to bring some bendiness back to this body.

I drag my aching body out of bed and stumble to the kitchen. I put on a pot of coffee and take two Advil. As I’m waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, I think back to last night. My fingers brush across my lips as I remember our kisses, sometimes passionate, sometimes sweet, and always amazing.

I have no regrets. The sex was… incredible.

I must admit, for someone who hasn’t done the deed in nearly half a year… I was Pretty. Fucking. Good. It really is like falling off a bike, except I got back on a bike with rock hard abs and buns of steel. It’s a bonus that Ben comes fully equipped with all sorts of sex skills, no training wheels necessary for that man.

 I like the idea of a no strings attached relationship. It’s mutually beneficial, the pleasure without the baggage. There’s no dishonesty. It’s all out on the table. We’re both into each other physically, but have no want or need for anything more. I thought detaching sex from love would be difficult for me but I find I’m surprisingly comfortable with it. The more I think about it, the happier I am with its simplicity.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the room. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. It’s heavenly. I pour a cup, grab a gossip rag off the kitchen table and plop down on the couch.

I’m engrossed in an article about an aging celebutante’s drug induced escapades when Allie saunters in.

“Hey Al.” I yawn, peeking up from my magazine.

“Good morning, my Sweet Julia,” she sings as she twirls around the entranceway.

My Sweet Julia? Apparently Allie is still drunk or hasn’t come down from her sex high from last night’s conquest.

“Did you have a good night?” I ask.

“Deeee-lightful,” she purrs as she hangs her coat on a hook near the door. She looks back at me and tilts her head, her brow furrowed. “The place looks neater than yesterday. Where are all your magazines?” She looks in the kitchen. “Pots on the stove? You never cook dinner for yourself.” She narrows her eyes looking directly into mine. “Wait a minute…You had sex last night!” she exclaims.

“What?” My mouth falls open as my eyes widen.

“Sex. You had sex,” she squeals, swaying from foot to foot.

Are there cameras in my bedroom? How can she possibly know this?

“Why do you think I had sex last night?” I ask, testing her.

“You obviously haven’t looked in the mirror, Jules. You have the remnants of stubble burn all along your jawline and you have horrible sex hair. It’s messier than just woken up hair. I can tell the difference. Besides, there’s two wine glasses on the coffee table, you cooked dinner, and the place looks less filthy. ”

“You’re insane,” I counter.

She narrows her eyes and studies my face. “Holy shit, it was Khaki Shorts, wasn’t it?” she asks, slapping her hand to her cheek, her mouth gaping open.

Am I wearing a scarlet letter? I’m speechless. Allie has been in the apartment less than thirty seconds and she’s already pegged out my entire evening, all the way down to the what and with who.

“Well?” she asks, tapping her foot impatiently.

I sigh, my hands twisting together. She’s going to find out eventually. I might as well get it out in the open. “Yes, okay?” I answer, annoyed.

“Get out! I was totally bluffing. I figured maybe you made out with him. Holy shit! You did? Really?”

“Yes,” I say quietly. I know I’m every shade of red.

“How did it happen? Deets. I want the deets.” She giggles, jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

I explain to Allie the sordid details leading up to Ben in my bed and how we decided to keep things casual. She stares at me with a wide grin. You’d think she’s the one who had sex with him, she looks so damn happy.

“So how does he rate on the sausage scale... cocktail wiener, bun sized or foot long?”

“Are you seriously asking me to tell you the size of his penis?”

 “Of course I am. Oh, maybe he's girthy... Kielbasa or Bratwurst?”

“You’re insane. I’m not answering that question.” Allie’s curiosity for the inappropriate never ceases to amaze me.

“Geez Jules, if you’re going to re-pop your cherry, you sure picked a prize to do the deed. Is he still here?” Her eyes scan the apartment.

“No, he left last night.”

“A fuck ducker?”

“No. I don’t think so. He said he was meeting his trainer at the park at six. It was easier for him to leave last night than wake up at five and go across town to get his stuff.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Yes.” I nod.

“Okay. That’s good enough for me. So this Casual Ben, he’s an exerciser?”

Casual Ben? Great, Allie has already bestowed a new nickname. I guess it’s an improvement over Khaki Shorts.

“You’ve seen him with his shirt off, what do you think?” I ask sarcastically.

“Yeah, good point. I hope he doesn’t try to suck you into that world. Tell him you’re allergic to exercise if he ever asks.”

“Yes, that’s a very believable excuse.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t think he’ll ever ask. Isn’t that something a couple would do together? We are most definitely not a couple.”

“Yeah, you are… you’re a couple of fuck buddies,” she jokes.

“Classy, Al. Real Classy.”

“Just keeping it real. You can sugarcoat this all you want, but at the end of the day; you’re still fuck buddies. There’s nothing wrong with that.  I’m certainly not one to judge. Anyway, I like this adventurous side of you. You deserve a little fun. So, how are you going to manage working with him?”

“I told him I didn’t want Vivian to know about us, so we’ll have to keep it cool when we work together at Wisteria.”

“How the hell are you going to keep your hands off that body? My hat’s off to you. You have more willpower than I do.  If it were me, I’d be on my knees servicing him at the foot of Viv’s desk.”

“Once again Allison, you have proven yourself to be the undisputed Queen of Demure.”

She laughs. “Yeah, maybe I’d wait until I got him alone in the elevator. So when are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know. He said he’d be in contact.”

“Good. You gave him your number?”

“Crap. No, I didn’t.” I frown.

“Do you have his?”

“I can access it through work but that would be wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Shouldn’t I wait for him to call me?” I ask.

“Jules, we moved off the Prairie a long time ago. Women don’t sit around and wait for the man to court them anymore. Besides, you said it was casual, so all bets are off.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Is he seeing anyone else?” she asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

“Do you plan on seeing other people?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head, placing my hands over my face.

“There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“I know.”

“Both of you need to clear the air. Even in ‘no rules’ relationships, there are rules. Remember Jules, this is based on physical, not emotional feelings. You have to check your feelings at the door. If you’re okay with that, then okay. It creates an unbalanced relationship on both ends if one person is exclusive and the other isn’t. You need to be on the same page or there will be hurt feelings. Trust me on this, I speak from experience. Do you want to see other guys?”

“Allie, I didn’t want to see
any
guys, remember? Ben just fell into my lap.”

“More like he fell into your bed. How would you feel if you knew he was seeing other women, maybe having sex with them too?”

“I hadn’t given it any thought. There wasn’t much thinking going on last night.”

“I bet. Was he any good? Some good looking guys suck in the sack. They rely on their looks and get lazy.”

“He was fine.” All the heat from my body has rushed to my face. Allie has always been very comfortable giving me play by plays of her sex life. I’m much less of a sharer.

“Judging by the shade of red on your face, I’m guessing he was more than just fine.”

“Okay…he was
mighty
fine.” I beam.

“So you like him?”

“I slept with him, didn’t I?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I’ve slept with plenty of guys that I didn’t particularly like. I knew they were good in bed, so I figured what the hell.”

“Yes. I like him... as a person. Neither of us is looking for a relationship, but we click physically and we have fun …so I’m taking your advice. I’m having an emotionally detached whirlwind fling with a really hot guy, and I’m going to use him for his body.”

“Mother Allie is so very proud. One bit of advice the Queen of Demure shall bestow upon you, be honest with him and yourself. Don’t ever confuse this as a romantic relationship. It’s fun and it’s sex. That’s all it is. If you go in with your eyes wide open, you’ll be fine.”

“Duly noted, Queen.”

~o0o~

While Allie sleeps off her Friday night sexcapades, I take out my laptop and log into my work computer. I feel like an idiot secretly checking through Ben’s Wisteria files for his cell number, but since I never gave him mine, there’s no means of communication. Since I asked him to keep it cool at work, a work email isn’t possible. I know they’re monitored.  

Like Allie said, I’m a modern woman. I got into this casual arrangement to avoid games. I’m going to be straight forward and give him my cell number. There’s nothing wrong with exchanging digits.

I locate Ben’s number. Now I have to come up with a clever text that says “
Here’s my number, don’t think I’m a clingy stalker.”

I could go the funny route:

*
For a Quick Fuck Call 917-555-2653.*

Nah, sometimes funny doesn’t translate well through a text.

Maybe…

*
For a Good Time Call…. 917-555-2653*

No, I sound like a bimbo. I might as well sign that text: *
With love, Whore Girl
.*

Screw it. I’ll just keep it simple.

*
My cell number
.
Enjoy your day! -Julia
*

Okay, it’s not exactly Pulitzer material, but it’s something. I click the send button and I’m done.

I get a text back from Ben immediately.

*Great. Thanks. Running out. Talk to you soon. *

What the hell? That’s all I get? Hmm, I guess that’s how it’s done. Short and simple. Like Allie says, it’s fun and sex. No need for flirting or playful banter, although a little banter would be nice.

Maybe this was a fuck and duck. No, no…stop. I’m thinking like a girlfriend. I’m not a girlfriend. He doesn’t owe me anything. No expectations, I have to remember that. I have to adjust to this new kind of arrangement. It’s actually quite refreshing.

I look up at my laptop and check out my work schedule for the week. Vivian is really pushing his book through. Ben is due in on Wednesday to look over Marcello’s proofs and the final cover art. I guess I’ll see him then.

~o0o~

Monday has arrived, which means another work week to get through. I haven’t heard a peep from Ben, despite the fact that he has my cell phone number. Allie caught me checking my phone a few times and felt the need to “school” me on the mechanics of casual relationships. She assures me this is normal. The only call I’ll get is a booty call. For as crude as that sounds, I’ll take it. Yes, this is nice. No expectations, no strings. Freedom. This is good. Yes, just what I need.