We barely knew each other, but there we were—me in Leo’s T-shirt and him in my bed. Still strangers in every way but one. And even after knowing each other in the biblical sense, I didn’t know who Leo was.
Sure, I knew some things—unimportant facts—and sensed he had a good heart. He looked out for me when I neglected to take care of myself. All good traits of course. It didn’t hurt that Leo was good in bed. Then again, I hadn’t had sex in so long, maybe I couldn’t judge good from bad. Still… I enjoyed it.
Was that moment what people meant by friends with benefits? It was an ubiquitous status I’d never enjoyed and wasn’t sure I wanted. Sex with Leo seemed natural—too natural for a couple of strangers. It was like we’d done that dance before in another lifetime. Surely, if Leo was someone from my past, I would know it. Wouldn’t I? Frankly, all this thinking on an empty stomach made me queasy. I tossed back the cover and swung my legs out of bed.
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