Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
That's the ideal arrangement.
"Can I see?" Luna asks.
I show her the phone.
"Oh, I get it. You like her."
"I wouldn't sleep with her if I didn't like her."
"No, you like her."
Shit, I do.
"Aw, I've never seen you like anyone. This is cute. Can I take a picture?"
I flip her off.
"Do you need some pointers? First relationships are hard."
"I've had relationships."
"Who?"
I name a few exes.
"Those weren't relationships, Tricky. Can you name a single thing about any of them?"
"Yeah. Orange was Andrea's favorite color."
"A meaningful thing?"
"Orange isn't a popular color." And what does that matter? Sure, my romantic relationships have been a little surface level. I was surface level. That was what I wanted. It was all I could do. Besides—"Imogen isn't looking for a relationship."
"She made an offer. You can counter."
"She was clear," I say.
"Even so."
Maybe. Or maybe this is perfect. "She wants no-strings attached sex. Why would I turn that down?"
She smiles do you really expect me to buy that? "Is that all it is?"
"What do you mean?"
"There's nothing else going on?" she asks.
"Just thinking about someone."
"Another woman?"
"Not exactly."
She raises a brow.
"You'll think it's stupid."
"I already think it's stupid."
"You're easy to talk to. Anyone ever tell you that?"
She laughs. "Everyone, yeah." She takes a long sip. "The truth feels better than a lie, doesn't it?"
"You're like her that way," I say. "Brave."
She actually blushes. "Thank you. But flattery won't help you. Wait? Who's brave?"
"I follow her online diary," I say. "It's a one-sided thing. We don't talk one-on-one. But I feel… I don't know. I guess I want that with someone. The intimacy."
"That's not the same thing as a relationship, Tricky."
"I know."
"She shares and you do, what… phone sex?"
"No. I don't know her."
"It's all her, revealing herself to you. Relationships go two ways."
"Yeah." I know that. I just love this. "But I—"
"Don't know if you want to have a just-sex relationship or try to find something real?"
"I can finish my own sentences."
Luna softens. "Come over tonight. We can talk, watch trashy reality TV, drink Bud Light."
"Am I ever going to live that down?"
"Don't drink the Bud if you don't want the rep."
"You wouldn't be caught dead drinking a light beer."
"True. But you can bring some for yourself."
"I'm okay," I say.
"We'll drink too much coffee then."
"Oliver won't mind?"
She clears her throat.
"Not 'cause I need his permission to hang with his girlfriend."
She shoots me a this better get good, fast look.
"Because I don't want you to screw with your relationship to help with mine."
"Ollie respects my friendships with men. Besides, you're obviously into Imogen. You're welcome, by the way."
"I am?"
"Who sent her to you?"
That's true.
"I could see you two together," she says. "She's like you in certain ways. Withdrawn and serious, but with a lighter side too."
"That sounds more like Oliver."
"Oh no, we have the same type." She laughs. "Good thing we're both straight."
"Yes, that's the only thing stopping us from dating the same people."
"I know." She laughs and lets the mood shift back to lightness.
I go with it. I meet her for takeout and reality TV. We don't talk about much, really, but the next morning, the situation is clear: I want to see Imogen again, whatever that means.
Patrick: I like fun. How do you want to start?
A few hours later, my phone buzzes against my jeans. My fingers itch to read, but this time my temptation is physical.
Imogen.
I'm home, working on a mockup for a client. Plenty of time to talk. Or invite her here to not talk.
Imogen: Tea and cookies. What do you think?
Patrick: Romance a guy.
She sends a picture of her legs stretched over her dark-pink sheets. The color is perfect against her tan skin. Gorgeous and sexy and erotic as hell.
I'm already picturing her naked in those sheets.
And I'm picturing myself waking up next to her in those sheets. Luna was right. I like her. I really like her.
Patrick: Should I come over?
Imogen: I have homework.
Patrick: Should I stop distracting you then?
Imogen: I could use a break.
Patrick: But not that much of a break?
Imogen: That will put me out of commission for too long.
Patrick: I wore you out?
Imogen: Don't let it go to your head.
Patrick: Too late.
Imogen: Do you do this a lot?
Patrick: Text friends?
Imogen: Casual sex?
Patrick: Sometimes.
Not often, since Deidre died. But sometimes.
Patrick: I have girlfriends, sometimes, but not usually anything serious.
Imogen: I'm not looking for serious.
Patrick: I know.
Imogen: I haven't done the casual sex thing before.
Patrick: You fooled me.
Imogen: Really?
Patrick: Mostly. You're different from the women who invite me to their place.
Imogen: What did I miss?
Patrick: Nothing. You were perfect. Just different.
Imogen: Different how?
Patrick: More direct.
Imogen: Women aren't ordering you onto your knees?
Patrick: Is that a request?
Imogen: It's usually safe.
Patrick: Kneeling?
Imogen: Cunnilingus. There's a low risk of STD transmission.
Patrick: That. That's how you're different.
Imogen: Because I bring up STD rates?
Patrick: The way you do it.
Imogen: I'm a scientist.