He smiles and looks up at my face. He sighs and then finally says, “At my apartment, after I picked you up at your parent’s house that night… Things were weird between us the next morning. I felt it, and I know you did, too.” He watches me, waiting for me to deny it.
“I don’t know what that was, and I was such a wreck that night. It’s hard to know what I felt.”
Looking down at me with a vulnerable expression, he suggests, “Then let’s settle it. One night, sleep next to me for one night—actual sleep—nothing else. If you feel anything for me, you’ll know. It’ll be like that night at my place, and you’ll be certain.”
The thought terrifies me. Is it possible that I like this guy and never noticed? Is that why we fight so much? Is that why I can’t let him walk away? I let Sean walk away and I regret it horribly.
No more regrets. “All right, one night.”
CHAPTER 2
The phrase, This is weird, keeps replaying through my head like a witch’s chant. Marty is asleep next to me and it’s the middle of the night. The clock on the nightstand blinks as another minute passes and the number changes. My heart is racing, like I’m scared about something. I wish I knew what it was. So much stuff has happened that it feels like I’m standing in the center of a vortex, getting my freakin’ brains sucked out. I’m pretty sure they’re all gone, because why am I here? Better yet, why does it offend me to sleep—literally sleep—with Marty, but I’m okay with sleeping with a stranger?
Stuffing the pillow under my head, I try to get comfortable, but I can’t. I’m a liar. I lie to myself and everyone I know. My life has been torn to shreds and I’m the one who did it. Before Black, I was dirt poor—as in dirt for dinner was too expensive—but now friendships are too expensive. I’ve lost everyone who matters. Since the time I walked in on Sean and Mel, things with her have been weird, then Marty’s confession threw me for a loop, and now Sean is gone.
I’m alone. It hits me like a boulder crashing down from space. I guess that’s an asteroid, right? Oh God, it’s so late and I’m so tired, but sleep won’t come.
I roll the other way and see Marty’s peaceful face. The first thing I think is, He’s not Sean, and that’s the problem. I like Marty, I can admit that. That little tug at the center of my chest when I see him is attraction. I’m not brain dead, it’s just that someone else overshadows that little flirtation and Marty is eclipsed. Completely.
So, in the morning when I wake up, I can tell him that I like him—that he was right—but nothing good will come from it. Sometimes knowledge isn’t freeing and those words will just trap him. Marty won’t move on if I say those things. Lying to his face is going to suck, but I have to do it. Regret lines my mouth and tastes as awesome as burnt coffee grinds. I sucked this up. Maybe we both did.
My mind wanders to Mel and her advice to chase down Sean and propose. She’s so insane. Well, it’s not that the idea is insane, it’s more that it’s emotional suicide. If he said no, I think I’d walk right up to the top of the Empire State Building and throw myself off. Okay, that’s too dramatic, but I’m so fried. After he says no, then what?
What if he doesn’t say no? a little voice chirps inside my mind. What if he says yes?
And that’s the issue—what if? The ‘what ifs’ suck. They wedge themselves into the corners of my mind and fuck up my life. What if I proposed? What if he said yes? What if we were happy and had two fat babies, a dog, and a little house with a white picket fence? What if I got everything I ever wanted? What if I wasn’t a coward lying in bed next to a guy that I’m attracted to, but not in love with? Where would I be?
The reality of that answer makes me close my eyes and roll onto my back. Draping my arm over my face, I breathe in and out. If I wasn’t with Marty right now, I’d be with a stranger. I’d be a hollow shell of a woman, selling my body so I don’t have to eat freeze-dried noodles every night. It’s not that simple, but in some ways it is. Grabbing a pillow, I pull it over my face and hold it there so I’m in a vice of fluffiness.
“Do you always try to suffocate yourself while you sleep?”
I toss the pillow on the floor and turn my head toward him. My eyes aren’t filled with sleep like his. They’re strained, tense, and tired. Words are bursting inside my mind and I haven’t said a single thought out loud for hours. I have a plan. Lie to him, trick Black into thinking we did it, and hope I don’t get my ass kicked when she finds out I’m lying.