Not Your Fault by Cheyanne Young Read Free Book Online

better in bed than you and that’s really killing the mood of our weekly couch sex and basketball routine.
    I may be fucked in the head but I’m not that fucked up. Nathan’s breathing gets harder as he slides to the end of the couch and pulls me harder and harder against him. I’m losing any ounce of desire I had when we started twenty minutes ago, and now I’m just ready for this encounter to be over. Thanks Kris, for ruining yet another thing in my life.
    I know from experience that faking like he’s the best sex god in the world will have him coming in no time. So I groan and moan and gasp for breath and tell him he feels so good baby , just like the girls on his computer do. Thirty seconds later, he finishes and I get to fall back on the couch and snuggle against his chest. The snuggling part is my favorite part of sex with Nathan. I always call him my teddy bear; a snuggly warm body I can fall into after an exhausting day.
    I rub my hands across his chest, my hands making an arc across his belly. I don’t mind that he’s overweight. After dating too many stick-thin guys, dating someone with some extra meat on him is a nice change. Susan’s words float into my mind as we lay together on the couch. Maybe I do want a muscled man. Maybe that’s why I feel so apathetic about being around Nathan lately. I spend too much time with meatheads at the gym, and now maybe I subconsciously want someone like that. Or maybe it isn’t like that at all, and maybe Susan’s big mouth put those ideas in my head.
    I watch the hairs on Nathan’s chest flow around my fingers and I imagine what it would feel like to touch the smooth, chiseled surface of Kris’s chest. Nathan twists a lock of my hair around his finger, the smile on his face showing how oblivious he is to my internal thoughts.
    “So, have you given any more thought to my question?” he asks.
    I look up at him. “What question?”
    He hesitates for a moment, and when he finally talks, his voice quivers with anxiety. “You know…my question about…moving in with me?”
    “Oh, that,” I say. I’m fully aware that is a terrible answer, but my mind is fog and nerves and forbidden fantasies right now so I can’t possibly answer any other way. My eyebrows knit together as I struggle to think of an answer. “I don’t know.”
    “If you think I’m moving too quickly, that’s okay. You could have your own room. I can clean out my man cave.”
    “I’m not going to make you get rid of your man cave,” I say with a snort. He spent a few thousand dollars on that room. I’d rather sleep on the kitchen floor than ask him to give up his wall-to-wall collection of arcade games and vintage video game systems. But the fact that he even offers sends a chill down my spine. This relationship means a lot to him.
    Probably more than it means to me.
    “I just want you to be happy,” he says, adjusting on the couch so he can put his hands on my shoulders. First Cat, then Nathan. I’m not sure why everyone wants to have serious hands-on-shoulders talks with me lately. Nathan dons a serious face that somehow makes the dimples in his cheeks form in the same way they do when he smiles. “You’ve been stressed out and just…weird ever since that asshole bought the gym. It’s not healthy and I’m just trying to make things better for you.”
    “I’m not sure moving in with you is going to fix my problem,” I say.
    “Moving in and quitting your job will fix it.” His voice is absolute and it brings a chill over my skin. He isn’t just suggesting that I quit my job for fun—he’s dead serious.
    “Listen,” I say, standing from the couch and pacing across the room. “I appreciate what you’re doing and what you’re offering me, but I can’t accept it. I love you, Kris but I can’t move in with you.”
    The words are out of my mouth before I catch them. My body runs cold and my heart seizes in my chest but I keep pacing, hoping to God that Nathan didn’t hear