My stunt earned me a satisfying grunt of disgust from him as he walked off.
I wasn’t exactly proud of anything I’d done in the last few minutes. But there was one thing I wouldn’t have changed if I could. I wanted them to both know she was mine, even if I wasn’t sure how long that would last anymore.25BelleI sank into a comfortable first-class seat and let out a long breath. Somewhere in coach, a baby was crying, and the airplanes engines were whirring to life with a high-pitched whine.
I heard a quick clamor of excited voices from the front of the plane. Instinctively, I’d learned the sound. It was the sound Chris brought with him everywhere he went, just like a shark at the beach might bring screams. Chris brought hushed whispers, gasps, and a never-ending rush of people seeking selfies and autographs.
I’d never considered how exhausting it must be for him until I saw his face as he boarded. Chris looked uncharacteristically tired. A stewardess was thanking him for what appeared to be a napkin he’d signed for her. He spotted me, then his expression lifted slightly.
He was wearing a black shirt and gray sweatpants with his usual “please don’t notice me” black baseball cap and sunglasses.
Chris sat down, then looked my way. I swallowed but stared ahead. I’d blown him off this morning. After his crap at my apartment, I felt like he needed a figurative slap on the wrist. Damon had planned for us to show up together and put in an appearance on our way out of the country. Instead, I’d left him hanging and came on my own.
“Am I fully punished?” Chris asked. “Or was ghosting me this morning just the beginning?”
Chris had a unique ability to dissolve almost all of my frustration with him with a few words. I found myself already wanting to smile a little, but I resisted. “I’m still planning to punish you a little more.”
“Fair enough. And by the way, I’m-” he looked like he was about to choke. “I’m sorry for this morning. I was probably a little out of line.”
“Which part?” Now I couldn’t help grinning a little. “The part where you picked my lock and let yourself in, or the part where you made an ass of yourself?”
“Either?”
I folded my arms, waiting.
“All of it,” Chris added quickly. “I get how it probably looks. I’m just some bastard who wants to fuck around with you and take advantage of this arrangement. And maybe even I thought that too before I saw the turtle necked dweeb on your couch.”
“He’s not a dweeb. Lance is a successful lawyer and women practically line up to date him.”
“Sorry. I’ve just never trusted people in turtlenecks. I mean, think about it. You ever looked at a turtle’s neck? Like really looked? They’re wrinkly, veined, and frankly phallic. Why would I trust someone who wants their neck to look like an ancient green cock?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Is this part of your apology?”
“Sorry. No. I apologize for calling him a dweeb. All I was trying to say is that seeing him with you made me have to confront some uncomfortable realities, like the fact that I apparently don’t want you sleeping with anyone else.”
“I’m aware. It could look bad for optics if anyone caught wind of it.”
“No. I don’t give a shit about how it looks. Just the thought of Lance’s turtleneck anywhere near your pussy made me want to toss him out your window. As in, I’ve got feelings for you. Real ones.”
My mouth felt dry. Chris’ words sank into me one by one, each feeling heavier than the last. Feelings. Real ones. Part of me itched to tell him the truth—that I did too. Except we’d made such a mess of things that I didn’t know where real feelings would fit in.
It was like Val had said. There was no real danger in what Chris and I were doing because the expiration date was built in. It was like realizing you were in a dream and deciding to have a little fun before you woke up. Except what Chris was saying now felt more like he was saying he never wanted us to wake up from this. He wanted it all to be real. To last.
The idea sent shockwaves of competing fear and exhilaration through me. All I could do was react by instinct, to step away from the big shiny thing that might be the best thing that would ever happen or the worst. Like I always did, I chose the safer option, the risk-free choice that would let me continue along in my safe but unsatisfying existence.
“Maybe it’d be better if we stuck to pretending,” I said, because at the end of the day, I knew what it felt like when I handed my heart over to someone and they decided to break it. Except Chris would be like an excited puppy. He’d play with it, never intending to break or damage it, but one way or another, it’d be left in tatters by the time he was done.