~ Just Friends With Benefits ~

by

Meredith Schorr

“Let’s do a shot of tequila,” I proposed.

“Don’t think so, Steph. I don’t do shots on a school night.”

Under my breath but loud enough for Hille to hear me, I muttered, “Wimp.”

Scowling at me, Hille said, “What did you call me?”

“You heard me,” I said.

“I’m not a wimp,” Hille insisted.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em and what I see before me is a w-i-m-p—wimp!”

“You’re trouble, Steph. Fine. I’ll do a stinkin’ shot of tequila.” Hille motioned to the bartender. I was glad it was the old man and not the scantily dressed Elisha Cuthbert look-alike on the other side of the bar.

The bartender nodded to Hille. “Two shots of tequila, please,” he said.

I added, “Can we also get salt and lime, please?”

Hille turned to me and said, “Now who’s the wimp? Salt and lime?”

Removing the salt shaker from the bar, I smiled sweetly at Hille and said, “I’m a girl, Craig. Calling me a wimp just doesn’t have the same effect. Sorry.”

Hille smirked at me while I licked the underside of my wrist and poured the salt. “Cheers, Craig. Lick it, slam it, suck it!”

After the shot, we agreed another drink was probably a bad idea and Hille escorted me to my hotel.

Before he had the opportunity to initiate the end of the night, I said, “Come in for a minute. Check out my cool hotel room. It’s got a great city view.” Then I paused before adding, “Unless you’re in a real hurry to get going.”

Hille stroked his chin, appearing to contemplate. After a brief hesitation, he shrugged and said, “I guess I can hang out for a bit.”

I wondered if he knew what I hoped would happen. I was so nervous I incorrectly inserted the magnetic room key into the slot twice before Hille chuckled, took it from me and opened the door. I glanced at him shyly, feeling my face get red, and said, “Blame it on the tequila shot.”

Hille just laughed again and said, “Whatever you say.”

Even though we had basically been alone together all night, the dynamic changed as soon as we were enclosed within the four walls of my tiny hotel room and my hands were shaking. I told Hille to help himself to the mini bar and went into the bathroom to channel my inner cheerleader. I looked at myself in the mirror and, with the water running so Hille wouldn’t hear me, said, “Get a grip, Stephanie. You look damn good tonight and you know it. Craig Hille would have to be an absolute fool not to want to hook up with you. He wants you and you know it. Now go out there and get him!” With that, I left the bathroom and found Hille sitting on one of the guest chairs staring at his Blackberry.

Trying not to laugh at his predictability, I said, “Lots of emails, Craig?”

As he put the Blackberry back in his briefcase, he said, “Always, but nothing important or remotely interesting.”

I sat down on the foot of the king-sized bed which faced where Hille was sitting and said, “I’m glad we did this, Craig.”

“Me too, Steph. It was fun. Thanks again.”

“Thank you!”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence until I took a deep inhale and said, “Craig?”

“Steph?”

“This is kind of embarrassing.” And really fucking scary.

Hille shifted his body in the chair. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, well, the thing is, I’m totally attracted to you right now.”