“But then you freak out when he says nice stuff. Because you think you don't deserve it.”
“That's not true.”
“Okay.”
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
She laid her head back down. God, was that true? Tate had never really thought about it. She hated when Jameson said nice things, because she didn't believe him. She always figured he was just talking, patronizing. Saying what he thought she wanted to hear, not how he felt – that hurt. She couldn't stand that feeling. Why couldn't she believe him? Did she really think she didn't deserve his affection?
He's so much smarter than you. Classier than you. Worldlier than you. He would never love someone like you, trash like you. You're just a waste of time. He'll leave you.
It was like Ellie's voice, her father's voice, everyone in her family's voice, had been living in her brain, her whole life, and Tate was just now realizing it. A little whisper, always running up and down her spine. Warning her away. Telling her she was only good for one thing, so just ignore everything else. And Tate had – she just ignored everything, and became very good at that one thing.
“Who needs therapy, when they have a pornstar bestie?” Tate laughed at the ceiling. Ang snorted.
“I should start charging you.”
She slept in his bed, with him spooning up behind her. Ang had always been an affectionate person, right from the get go with her. It was natural. She woke up to him snoring, halfway laying on top of her. His phone was ringing, and she groped around to find it. She kept her eyes closed against the sunlight that was pouring in his window.
“Angy wangy's phone,” she croaked out.
“Oh my god you slept together you are such a slut does Jameson know oh my god you're such a whore.” Ellie's voice, talking so fast, all her words ran together. Tate snorted.
“It's too early for this, call back later,” she groaned, rolling onto her back.
“It's after noon!” Ellie snapped back. Tate opened her eyes.
“Holy shit, we really stayed up late,” she commented.
“I can't believe you! I can't believe you'd do that, again, after -,”
“Ellie, shut up. Just shut the fuck up. I didn't sleep with Ang, but if I had, it wouldn't be a bad thing. Me being a slut, isn't a bad thing. Me fucking Jameson, isn't a bad thing. Stop trying to make me feel bad about everything. God, I fear for your child. The insecurities you're going to give it. Just calm the fuck down and get the fuck over yourself. You wanna live a wild life? Have sex with no strings attached? You're not very good at it so far,” Tate pointed out.
Ellie was silent for so long, Tate had to check to see if she was even still on the phone.
“No, I guess I'm not,” she finally breathed. Tate laughed.
“I'm sorry we made out in front of you, I didn't know he was going to do that. He was really upset,” Tate explained.
“It was pretty awful,” Ellie managed a laugh.
“He liked you. Still does. You hurt his feelings. You can't do that, Ellie. I don't do that,” Tate said in a soft voice.
“He really liked me?” her sister's voice was quiet.
“Yeah. For the life of me, I can't figure out why, but he did. Something about pregnant nipples. You think I'm weird, geesh. Look, I gotta go, but call him in like an hour when he's had coffee and a chance to masturbate, he'll be in a much better mood then,” Tate told her.
“I heard that,” Ang grumbled, his face in a pillow.
“You are so gross,” Ellie's voice shuddered.
“Byeeee,” Tate sang, and hung up the phone. She let it drop to the bed as Ang snuggled even closer.
“What did she want?” he asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy with sleep.
“To talk to you,” Tate yawned. “I think she kinda wanted to yell at you, but really, she feels bad.”
“Good.”
“It's after noon,” Tate warned him. He made a clucking sound with his tongue.
“Uh oh. Satan said be at his office, noon sharp. Someone's getting a spanking,” he chuckled.
“If I'm lucky, that'll be it,” she replied, pulling away from him. He held onto her.
“C'mon, it's early still. We could cuddle some more, maybe have just a tiny bit of sex, then go for breakfast,” he suggested in a sleepy voice. Tate laughed.
“Just a tiny bit, hmmm?” she joked, pulling at his arm. He pressed his hips to her side, leaving her in no doubt of how serious he actually was; he had never been shy about his body around her. Ang slept in the nude.
“Just the tip,” he offered.
“Jameson would cut off 'just the tip' if he found out. He might still, as it is. Gotta go,” she told him, then finally broke away. She sat up and scooted off his bed.