Best Intentions by Emily Listfield Read Free Book Online

any actual proof. I can’t tell if he’s deluded or if he really is on to something. But if he’s wrong, he’s fucked.”
    â€œWhy? Reporters follow leads that don’t pan out all the time. What’s the big deal?”
    â€œHe needs a major story. He’s apparently not the flavor of the month anymore.”
    â€œWho is?” Deirdre pushes up the sleeve of her boho chic Indian tunic absentmindedly. “Christ, can’t they turn the air-conditioning up in here?”
    â€œGood Lord, what is that?” I lean forward. Pale blue bruises in the shape of fingerprints peek out from beneath the navy and fuchsia paisley silk.
    She quickly pulls the fabric down to cover them. “Nothing.”
    â€œThat didn’t look like nothing.”
    She smiles sheepishly. “Sex injury.”
    â€œCan I assume that’s Ben’s handiwork?”
    She nods.
    â€œWhat the hell were you two doing?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œWe obviously have different definitions of nothing.”
    I stare at her, waiting for details. Our friendship was forged on dorm beds, late-night phone calls, two a.m. bathroom rendezvous where we traded the most intimate minutiae of our nascent sex lives, the fine and not-so-fine points that gained true currency only in the retelling.
    â€œI bruise easily,” she says dismissively.
    â€œDo you know how long it’s been since I had sex like that?”
    â€œYou have other things.”
    â€œYes, but they don’t leave fingerprints behind. Listen, you’re not doing anything I should be worried about, are you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDeirdre?”
    â€œNo,” she reiterates. Then, considering, she adds, “It’s strange. The sex with Ben hovers on the edge but it never goes over. At least not yet. I can’t quite figure it out.”
    â€œThe edge of what?”
    â€œI’m not sure. Everything is always just a touch—more. Harder. Let’s just say he’s enthusiastic.” She laughs. “He once told me that a girl he was sleeping with in college used to make him wear mittens when they had sex. I could never figure it out.” She nods to the bruises. “Maybe this is why.” She smiles back at me. “Don’t look so worried. He said he just likes something to grab on to. It’s fine.”
    â€œDeirdre, are you sure getting back together with Ben is a good idea?”
    â€œOf course I’m not sure. But look, even if I’m wrong and Ben hasn’t changed, would that be so terrible? I have a great time with him. And he’s been totally honest with me.”
    â€œHonesty is not a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
    â€œWhy can’t I use him as a placeholder while I look for something better? Men do that all the time. Besides, other men always find you sexier when you’re sleeping with someone else. It’s like they can smell it.”
    â€œI have nothing against it in theory. I just don’t happen to think it works. You care about him.” I am certain that Deirdre is lying, that she does hope for something from Ben, a sign, forward movement. Women always do.
    â€œMaybe he’s right, maybe monogamy is against human nature.”
    â€œThat’s a convenient excuse. Besides, even if it’s true, it’s a recipe for disaster. Doesn’t it bother Ben if you go out with other men?”
    â€œI wish it did,” she admits. “I’ve never met anyone so totally lacking in jealousy. It’s impossible to get a rise out of him. He told me the only thing that would really hurt him is not seeing me at all.” Her voice sinks. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. All I know is that no one makes me feel as good as he does when I’m with him. When we’re together, he’s totally present. He actually listens, and remembers everything. He makes me laugh. He’s not intimidated by me.”
    â€œAnd when