She questions my motives

Ross enters the room first, making sure his wife is presentable. He doesn’t want me to see her exposed. I still don’t think he’s over watching his wife show off her boobs to his best friends. I hear her ask, “What happened out there? I heard you yelling.”

Ross leads me in, “Chandler can tell you what happened.”

I walk in, embarrassed about what I’m about to say. Rachel sits back against the headboard. The blanket is pulled up to her stomach. Her white tank top is modest and doesn’t reveal any cleavage, but I see where her nipples press against the fabric. I quickly avert my eyes, and make a deliberate attempt to look at her eyes. Her cool blue eyes are no longer lined in makeup, but are framed behind black glasses. Freckles splatter her cheeks.

Fuck, she's pretty. I have to take a moment and catch my breath. The shots of the night have loosened my shame, and I freely admit my discretion. “A little earlier Phoebe and I climbed on top of a wood pile and spied into your room through that window right there.” I point to the window, and give a cough to loosen my throat. “When you and Ross started fooling around, I went down on Phoebe on top of the woodpile. The pile ended up falling, and we crashed to the ground. I’m sorry. It was a really dumb thing to do—the spying on a couple in their most intimate moment. I’m embarrassed, and I understand if you don’t forgive me. It was a really creepy thing to do.”

Her blue eyes never leave mine, even when I gestured to the window. She watched me the entire time. Maybe she was trying to analyze if I was sincere. If this ridiculous story was even true. She doesn’t respond right away.

Ross says, “I told him he needed to apologize or I’d kick his ass.” He waves to send me away, like I’ve done enough, paid my penance.

Rachel’s eyes never leave mine. When I turn to walk away, she finally speaks. “Why did you want to spy on me and my husband?”

I could tell her it was Phoebe’s idea. That I was just following along. That I barely saw anything. I mostly saw darkness and tasted decay. But I don’t deflect the blame, I embrace my mistake.

“Because you’re ridiculously beautiful, and I’m jealous of Ross. I haven’t had sex in months, and was curious about your sex lives.” I clear my throat again. It’s like my body is trying to stop me. “Especially after the story you told out by the campfire.”

Her eyes never break mine. They anchor me to the room when I just want to run away and forget about this entire night. “Did you like my story?”

Ross shifts uncomfortably. He just wanted to embarrass me in front of his wife. He didn’t plan on her asking me questions. If anything he expected her to hide completely under the blanket in embarrassment.

“Yeah. It was unexpected. You’re so conservative. Of course I knew you would still do sexual things with your husband, but I was shocked to hear you describe them so explicitly. It changed my views of you. I assumed you’d be a missionary with the lights off, sex only for procreation type wife.”

I stop myself. I’m rambling. Too many shots. I’m making an even bigger ass of myself.

But those soft blue eyes never waiver, they lock me in. “You didn’t think I’d have sex for fun? You didn’t think I’d enjoy sex and actually crave it sometimes? You described me like I was a beautiful ice sculpture.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for that. It was a poor assumption. Just another embarrassment to add to the list. I should leave before I do anything else stupid. Again, I’m sorry. Have a good night.”

“Don’t leave. You should stay,” Rachel’s voice reels me into the room while her eyes still have me hooked. “Stay and find out how much I really enjoying fucking.”