Heads or Tails

Chapter 7

"Megan, I'm not talking about last night," he whispers.

I almost choked, coughing loudly. I finally understood what he was referring to but didn't respond. I didn't know what to say.

"I don't regret flipping that coin," he says, lips twisting into a guilty little smile. "And honestly, Megs, if I could rewind time and ask you to flip that coin again, I would."

Unbidden, my mind floods with the fantasy of his hands in my hair, our mouths colliding, and my hollow plea as he licked a line from my throat to my navel. I shake away the memories and clench my fists. It was a one-time spur-of-the-moment reckless decision. He needs to accept this before our friendship is ruined for good. One: Ben doesn't do relationships. Two: Friends with benefits will not end well. Every romantic comedy bears proof of this.

I open my mouth to respond with something along the lines of, "Why would we ruin our lifelong friendship over casual sex," just as the bus comes to a halt. "Ben, I –"I stop, then start to speak again. "Drunk or not, we're just friends. And we both know you don't do relationships, and I'm a commitment junkie. I don't just have sex without fully committing to someone. We're the complete opposite. I don't know what else you expect me to say."

Ben nods, frowning. He doesn't say anything in response because he knows I'm right. Even if I wanted to have sex with him again, it doesn't diminish my need to have something more. He'll never be able to give that to me. His past track record proves otherwise.

The tour guide's voice crackles on the intercom, "Welcome, everyone. We've arrived at San Remo Volcano. Please exit the bus. Your group leader will wait to meet you and your group out front."

I wince and then sigh. "We should probably get off the bus."

Great. I sound like a bitch.

"You're right," he says. "I'm not boyfriend material. I'm just a fuck boy. Forget I said anything and lead the way, Megs."

_____

Good God. The hike up the volcano is exhausting. The sun is exceptionally bright, and the air is hot and humid. I glance at our group and see Matthew sweating profusely from his forehead. He uses the hem of his shirt to wipe away beads of sweat. Michelle follows steps behind him, silently muttering curse words to herself. Stephanie fans her face with the back of her hand. And Eric needs help to keep up with Michael and Jessica, who lead the way. Ben lingers close to my side as we follow behind our friends.

When we stop at the zip-lining prep station, we are equipped with helmets, ropes, and safety harnesses. I overhear Jessica trying to speak broken Spanish to communicate with our tour guide, who speaks English, and I can't help but laugh to myself.

Ben brushes up against my shoulder, moving close enough that I can smell him- the scent of soap and mint and a hint of coffee on his skin.

"Don't be scared," he says, flashing me cock-sure grin. "It's not like you'll be suspended thirty feet about the jungle or anything."

"Ha. Ha," I look up at him. "I'm more scared of puking mid-zip line ride than soaring over the jungle suspended by a rope."

He glances at me. "You drank that much tequila, huh?"

"Eric's a bad influence," I remind him.

"Did you at least make it back to your bed?" His question catches me off guard. He looks down at me, his eyes narrowed, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Or did Steven invite you back to his?"

I open my mouth to say something, but Eric speaks up before I can respond.

"I heard my name!" he shouts, a few feet away. "Don't believe a word she says!"