tell me you find that offensive,” she said finally, hearing herself start to sound annoyed. He was letting her twist in the wind, and he didn’t seem at all bothered by that. “But if you do, if you really want to, I can come look at your fuse box and you can cook me dinner, but I have a feeling we would both be unsatisfied by that arrangement.”
“Stop it, Lane,” he said, the words weary. “You know that’s not the problem. The problem is we do have an arrangement. Or, it’s fallen into one. I’m not your husband.”
The words hit her like a slap, and her cheeks stung. “I know. That’s a stupid thing to say. Of course I know that.”
“I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not even your dial-a-dick. But you treat me like one. In every way except for the benefits.”
His words punched straight through her chest, grabbing her heart and twisting it. “That’s not fair.” She couldn’t quite articulate why it wasn’t, just that it wasn’t.
“Isn’t it? You don’t treat me like you treat your other friends.”
“I know. Because you are a man. Do you honestly think I’m blind to that?” It was poorly phrased, because in many ways, until recently, she had been blind to it. She had known, in an abstract sense, but she hadn’t spent a lot of time dwelling on it. On purpose.
That time he and Rebecca had almost hooked up, it had forced her mind to go there and she had found it completely unsettling. She’d been angry, nearly sick over it, and she hated herself for it. To want to keep her single friends—who had no obligation to her—from being with each other if they wanted to be seemed churlish and petty.
But she hadn’t wanted Finn’s time occupied by another woman.
That realization made her mouth drop open. She didn’t want him occupied by another woman, because she wanted him on hand for her. And that made what he was saying sound a lot like their whole arrangement wasn’t fair. A lot like she was, in fact, using him as a boyfriend without giving him any of the benefits of being one.
It was uncomfortable, and she didn’t like it. It made her feel like she was the one being hunted, not the mouse. Like she had been backed into a corner and had no other choice but to fight back.
So, she did.
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