HOT AND BOTHERED

by Jo Leigh

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  Contents:

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

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  Chapter 1

  ^ »

  Trevor Templeton watched as his best friend took a sip of white zinfandel, then put her glass on the table. "So," Lee Phillips said brightly, "why aren't we having sex?"

  Trevor blinked, then looked around the somewhat stuffy Manhattan restaurant. "Probably because we're in the No Boffing section. But I'm sure we can change tables."

  Lee sighed. "Not right now, for heaven's sake. I mean in general."

  Trevor blinked again. Lee always had a tendency to surprise him, but this was unexpected, even for her. "I think we're not having sex because neither of us has a significant other. Or am I missing something?"

  "That's not what I meant."

  "Okay."

  She shook her head as if he were a particularly dull child. "I meant why aren't you and I having sex?"

  The sentence hung in the air like a cartoon bubble. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Someone dropped a glass, and he jumped, turning automatically to check out the damage. When he turned back to Lee, she wasn't grinning. She had her serious face on. This wasn't a joke. "First," he said, trying to think logically when everything in him screamed run, "I have to know if this is rhetorical. 'Cause if it's not, that's a whole different set of answers."

  She gave him a stare, one with her brows furrowed. "No. It's not rhetorical."

  He waited a second.

  "Yes." She sighed. "It could be."

  She still wasn't through. He could tell by the way she nibbled on her lower lip. After eight years, he'd come to recognize the signs. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "Maybe."

  "Okay, then. Now that that's clear, I have no idea why we're not having sex. Care to explain this little voyage to the twilight zone?"

  Lee picked up her spoon, then put it down again, choosing a sip of wine instead. Considering it was crème brûlée she'd passed on, Trevor knew she was earnest. He debated getting a little cognac, but figured a clear head was called for. As far as friendships went, his with Lee was right up there in the top two. All right, the number one position. But sometimes…

  He took a sip of coffee and waited. The explanation would come in its own fashion. Just like always. The trick was not to panic.

  "I've been thinking."

  "Obviously."

  "Don't start."

  "I wouldn't dream of it."

  "Okay, then. I've been thinking. I'm twenty-seven years old. I've got the career I want. The house I want. I love my cats. I like my privacy. I've always been lousy at love, but as I recall, I was pretty damn good at sex."

  "This was an Oprah show, wasn't it?"

  "You're no spring chicken yourself," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken.

  "I'm only six months older than you. Not quite ready to be put out to pasture."

  "And you're happy with your life, right?"

  "Am I supposed to answer now?"

  She nodded.

  "Yes," he said. "I'm happy with my life."

  "See? So you like where you are, and I like where I am, but neither of us is getting laid. At least I'm not. Are you?"

  If he'd been drinking he would have spit across the table. As it was, he just coughed. "I'm sorry, but you must be one of those pod people I'm always reading so much about. Who take over the bodies of innocent stockbrokers when they sleep. When will Lee be coming back?"

  "Just answer me."

  He shook his head. It was no use fighting. It never was with Lee. "No, dear. I'm not getting laid, as you so delicately put it."

  "As if you've never heard the expression."

  "I try to use it judiciously."

  "Oh, like when you're out with the boys playing poker?"

  "Boys? What boys? Do I have boys?"

  "Stop confusing things."

  "Me?"

  "Come on, Trevor. I'm serious."

  "You'd better be."

  "So why aren't we having sex?" She didn't even crack a smile. "With each other, I mean?"

  He felt the need to wipe his brow, but he resisted. "Um, I didn't know it was an option."

  "You're not attracted to me, is that it?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "Well, are you?"

  "Jeez, Lee. Show some mercy."

  "If we can't be honest with each other after all these years, then what's the point?"

  "Honesty is one thing. This is something out of Kafka."

  "Just tell me."

  He studied her dark brown eyes, her full pink lips, and the way she tucked her hair behind her ears, and realized he'd memorized her face through the years. It was more familiar to him in some ways than his own. "Yes, I'm attracted to you. Happy now?" Trevor racked his brain, trying to figure out what had brought this on. Maybe the date she'd had on Friday? According to her play-by-play, nothing much had happened. She'd thought the guy was nice, but no bells and whistles.

  Maybe the gang had gotten to her. Katy, who couldn't help giving advice, especially since all she seemed to do was read self-help books. Or Ben, Katy's husband, who didn't offer all that much advice, but felt the need to fix Lee up on blind dates. It could have been Susan, but that seemed doubtful.

  She'd sworn off men since her divorce. Last but not least, it could have been Peter, the one guy in the group who was more of a romantic than Lee herself. On the other hand, the overall insanity of the idea was right up Lee's alley.

  "You're not just saying that to be polite?" Lee asked.

  "Saying what?"

  Lee shook her spoon at him, flinging a tiny piece of gooey crème brûlée across the table. "You said you were attracted to me. I asked if you said it to be polite."

  He laughed. Really laughed. "Polite? With you? You wouldn't know polite if it came up and bit you on the butt."

  "Okay, then. That's good. I'm attracted to you, too."

  Whoa. He hadn't expected that. A rush of pleasure hit him square in the solar plexus. She was attracted to him? Why should that matter? What in hell was going on here? Who was this woman? "Can we slow down a little? I'd like to try to get my footing on the Tilt-A-Whirl that is your life."

  She nodded, then took a big bite of her dessert as if this conversation wasn't the single weirdest in the history of their relationship. "Sure. I'm just saying … it doesn't really make sense, does it? That we should both be living like nuns? There's nothing that says a person can't have sex with a friend, right? You know. No strings attached. We'd just be friends like always."

  "Only we'd share underwear secrets?"

  "Yeah."

  "And body parts."

  "Well, we wouldn't exchange them. But maybe they could mingle."

  "Uh-huh." She really had him confused. He'd known Lee since freshman year at NYU. He'd been by her side through three really terrible relationships. He was the guy she turned to when things went sour. She'd been there for him, too.

  There was no one in the world he cared about more than Lee and the rest of the gang who'd been along for the ride since day one at college, Katy, Ben, Susan and Peter. The six of them were thick as thieves. They'd told each other the most intimate details. His friends were the great joy in his life. Sounding boards, confidants, people who would call him on his bull. But Lee, she was special. She was his rock. Now she wanted to change all that? It didn't make sense.

  She frowned. "You don't sound enthusiastic."

  "Maybe that's because I've lost the power of coherent thought."

  "Why?"

  "Oh, no reason," he said, as more oxygen-rich blood left his brain and migrated south. "Is this about babies? Is your biological clock reaching midnight or something?"

  She studied him for a mome
nt, thinking. "No. At least I don't think so. I haven't had any baby dreams or anything. I think this is just about sex."

  "Well, then. Okay."

  "So what do you think?"

  He took a sip of coffee. She was serious, that much he could tell. She was also insane, but that was neither here nor there. She wanted an answer, and for the life of him, he couldn't think of one.

  The idea of sleeping with Lee had occurred to him before, of course. He wasn't blind. She was a beautiful woman with all the required female parts in working order. But having sex with her? Naked?

  "Well?"

  "I don't know," he said, finally. "I hadn't really considered it."

  "Honestly? You've never thought about it? Even once?"

  "Of course I've thought about it. But we're friends."

  "Exactly."

  "Friends as in buddies. Pals. Compadres."

  "I've thought about it."

  He sat up a little straighter. "Oh?"

  She nodded. A small wisp of auburn hair came loose from behind her headband and brushed her temple. He almost reached over to tuck it back, but suddenly the move he wouldn't have given a thought to just moments ago seemed rife with sexual innuendo. Now what was he supposed to do? Ignore it? Mention it casually? Jump under the table and cover his head?

  "I like you more than any other person on the planet," she said. "I know you. I know your habits and your quirks. I'm comfortable with you everywhere. I think it makes perfect sense."

  "Maybe we're comfortable because we don't have sex. Maybe having sex would mess everything up."

  "Yeah, I thought about that. There's a possibility it could, but I don't think so."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we're going into this with our eyes open. It's not like we have to change how we feel about each other. I love you, and I know you love me. Neither one of us wants to mess with that. I don't want to get married, and you don't either. So there wouldn't be any hidden agendas. Look at Ben and Katy. They were friends first."

  "They got married after three weeks."

  "Okay, so that wasn't a good example."

  "I don't know, Lee," he said, shaking his head. "This has all the earmarks of a disaster."

  "You said that about us getting season tickets to the Yankees."

  "Okay, so that one worked out. This one has a lot more risk involved."

  "I don't see why. Either we'll like it, and continue to do it, making both of us a lot less irritable, or we won't like it, and we'll shake hands and go back to what we've got now. What's so risky about that?"

  "There's a little detail you're forgetting about. Intimacy. It has a way of changing relationships. Or have you forgotten?"

  "This is different," she said, her confidence rock-solid. "I'm already intimate with you."

  "No, you're not."

  "Do I or do I not shower at your house every Sunday morning?"

  "Yes, but I don't wash your back. Besides, that's not the kind of intimacy I'm talking about."

  "Oh, you mean emotional intimacy."

  "Uh-huh. The kind that hurts. You remember." A shadow of pain darkened her eyes, and he twisted the napkin in his lap. He knew where her ex-boyfriend lived. Lee would never know if he paid the bastard a little visit.

  She firmed her lips. "I don't think that's going to be an issue."

  "You don't?"

  She shook her head. "Nope. I love you. But I'm not 'in love' with you. Having sex won't change that."

  "How do you figure?"

  "Let me ask you something. Have you been emotionally intimate with every woman you've slept with?"

  "Sure."

  "Liar."

  "Hey!" he said, wounded that she would even think such a thing.

  "I know you haven't. Remember Sandy what's-her-name? From Teaneck? You didn't even like her much. And there was that blonde with the eyebrows. You told me yourself that all there was between you was sex."

  "Granted. But they were exceptions," he said primly.

  "So, I'll be one, too."

  "They weren't my best friend."

  "Which will make me an exceptional exception. We can have it all. Best friends and bed partners. It's simplicity itself. The only way we can muck it up is if we don't tell the truth, which I know we will because we've always told each other the truth."

  He released his strangled napkin and reached for his coffee. "I don't know. I'm pretty happy with the way things are right now."

  "I'm not unhappy." She signaled the waiter to bring her some coffee. As soon as he was gone, she opened two packs of artificial sugar and emptied them into her cup. "I guess I've been feeling a little…"

  "Horny?"

  She laughed. "That, too. But that's not all. I'm not lonely—I swear I'm not. I really do love my life just as it is. But it's like that baby monkey and the towel doll."

  "Oh, that I was wondering when you'd bring that up," he said, hoping she'd catch the sarcasm. She didn't, of course. There was some synapse in her head that made baby monkeys relevant to their conversation, but that synapse was unique to Lee.

  She sighed at him. "That National Geographic special we saw. With the baby monkey who didn't have a mother, so he bonded with the doll they made out of a towel?"

  "I remember the documentary, but I don't see the connection."

  "I think I need to do a little bonding. And I'd prefer to do it with a friend instead of a towel."

  "Imagine how pleased I am not to be considered one step above a towel in your life."

  "Knock it off. You know what I'm saying."

  "Sort of a surrogate lover kind of thing?"

  "Exactly." She smiled. It was her best one, where her eyes crinkled up and her dimple showed. "So, will you think about it?"

  "I doubt I'll think of anything else for the rest of my life."

  "You're so cute when you're confused."

  "I'm glad I can please you."

  She bent down and retrieved her purse from under her chair. "It's your turn to pick up the check."

  "That's it? Conversation over?"

  She nodded. "You need time to think about it. So do I."

  "Is there a deadline for this decision?"

  "No. Take your time. Whenever you're ready, we can pick it up again. No pressure."

  "Thanks."

  "Hey, what are friends for?"

  "I'm not sure anymore."

  She reached over and took his hand in hers. "If it comes down to sex or friendship, the friendship wins, got it?"

  He nodded as his gaze moved down to their entwined fingers. God, she had slender fingers. Slender and long, with tapered oval nails. He could practically feel those nails on his back. He had the sinking sensation that despite her conviction, between sex and friendship, friendship didn't stand a chance.

  * * *

  "Did you know that a couple in Phoenix went to court to get joint custody of an iguana?"

  "That's thrilling, Susan," Lee said. "Honest. If you'd like to talk about reptiles, we certainly can."

  "Oh! Oh, God. I forgot! Did you do it?"

  Lee curled her feet under her and checked to make sure her cup of cappuccino was within reach. She leaned back in her leather club chair, really pleased with the way her new halogen lamp gave off such wonderful diffused light. It made her couch look better, her bookcases more interesting, and it hid all the dust bunnies. She adjusted her phone on her shoulder. "I did indeed."

  "And?"

  "He was surprised."

  "Well, duh. But what did he say?"

  "He said he'd think about it."

  "I can't stand it. How did you bring it up?"

  Lee heard a muffled electronic baritone voice in the background telling Susan that she had mail. Lee pictured Susan exactly—lying on her antique four-poster bed, bolstered by an amazing array of pillows, laptop where it was designed to sit, fuzzy slippers dangling off her toes. The television was probably on, too, and last but not least, the New York Times was undoubtedly spread around her body like a
cape.

  "I asked him over coffee."

  "Just like that?" Susan asked, her voice almost an octave higher.

  "Uh-huh."

  "Oh, God, Lee you're amazing. What did he say?"

  "He's worried that it'll ruin the friendship."

  "Did you tell him you only want him for his body?"

  "Susan. I don't. I think we can go that extra step, that's all."

  "Honey, I think it's the smartest thing since caller ID. This way, you can stop going out on all those ridiculous fishing expeditions."

  "Fishing? They're called dates."

  "I went on a date once. Look what happened to me."

  "Susan, just because Larry turned out to be The Jerk with No Conscience, it doesn't mean that every relationship ends up in disaster. Look at Katy and Ben."

  "Katy and Ben are inexplicable. My theory is that they both saved hundreds of children in a past life, and therefore are being rewarded in this one. I, on the other hand, must have kicked puppies for a living."

  "Susan, you have a wonderful life."

  "Just because I inherited money, doesn't mean everything's hunky-dory."

  "No, but it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick."

  "Yeah, yeah," Susan said, brushing off the familiar litany.

  "Anyway," Lee said, swinging the conversation back around. "You should have seen his face."

  "Trevor's?"

  "No, the mayor's. Of course, Trevor's. It was great. I thought his jaw would drop in his coffee."

  "I should have gone. Worn a disguise or big old coat. I can just see his little panic lights go off."

  "That would have been subtle," Lee said, unable to imagine the disgustingly tall and beautiful blond in anything that hid even one of her perfect curves.

  "Besides, the panic part only lasted a few seconds. Then I think he was pretty okay with it."

  "Knowing Trevor, this isn't going to be decided anytime soon."

  "Yeah. But I'm in no particular rush. Although, now that it's out there…"

  "The rhinoceros on the kitchen table."

  "Maybe I should just tell him to forget it. What if we can't get past it? What if the rhinoceros is so big, we lose sight of each other?"

  "Give it more than five minutes, will you, Lee?"

  "I don't know. It feels—" Lee heard the beep of her call waiting. She knew who it was "Listen, I think it's Katy on the other line. I'll call you back."