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“You and Abel are talking about stuff like that?”
“We are friends, Molls.”
“Friends who kiss. With tongue.”
My toes curl into my sneakers at the memory of that kiss. Even now, it makes me feel breathless. “He made that call.”
“How aboutyoustart making the calls? You wanna have good sex and find the man you’ve been looking for? It’s as easy and as hard as doing whatyouwant. The rest will fall into place.”
I scoff. “But what the hell do I want? It’s been so long since I’ve genuinely dug around for that answer, I don’t have a clue.”
“Hm.” Mollie thinks on this for a minute. “You like Abel. Like,likehim.”
“I don’t want to, but yes. Yes, I do.”
“He turns you on.”
“An extreme amount.”
“He gave you a real diamond and talks to you about real shit.”
“Abel is Tuck’s best friend for a reason. He’s an excellent human being.”
She lets out a noisy breath. “Not gonna lie to you, sweetie. I think you need to fuck this guy.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “So simple!”
“Hear me out. Everything else aside—your dad, your brother, your need to have everyone like you—it sounds to me like you want two things. The first is Abel. The second is to be fucked into next Tuesday. One plus one equals sixty-nine, sweetie. Go for it.”
“I repeat, Abel does not?—”
“Want to fuck you too? You sure about that?”
Am I sure about that?
“Also,” Mollie says, “stop thinking about what he wants. I know you’re thinking now is not the time to be reckless. But you haven’t been reckless a day in your life, and look where all that good behavior got you. Nowhere you wanna be, right?”
I get what she’s saying. But I was raised to believe that if I follow the straight and narrow, if I make good choices, I’ll get what I want. I’ll be safe from heartache and loss and bad situations.
I’m learning that’s not at all true. So, really, whynotbe reckless?
Why not be honest with myself and with the people in my life about what I want?
“But I’m not sure sleeping with Abeliswhat I want. Ultimately, I mean. Yeah, I could definitely use some stress relief. But I?—”
“Say it. Say what you want from him.”
“I want more than just sex.” It feels great and awful to say those words aloud. “Which I know he’s not down for. Even if he does agree to get in bed together.”
“I get what you’re saying. It is a bit of a pickle. But I think there is a way to kill two birds with one stone here. You say Abel’s not down to commit, that’s fine. I question it?—”
“Mollie, he showed up the other day with a black eye he got from some guy punching him for sleeping with his wife.”
She sucks in a noisy breath. “Okay. Well. Be that as it may, what if you took advantage of your forced proximity situation and really let loose in bed? Do all the kinky things you’ve always wanted to do. I’d bet my firstborn Abel will not only be into it, he’ll also be your guide to obscenity. He can’t give you love, but he can teach you how to indulge your lust.”
Can’t help it. I laugh, a blitz of heat coursing through myskin. “I am working on a rather obscene website. It’s romantic too, but also very penis heavy.”
“Excellent. You’re already halfway there. So you get your groove back in bed with Abel. Use it as practice for asking what you want. You know upfront he doesn’t want forever, so do your best to internalize that and take your relationship at face value. Lust, remember, not love. Then, when your fake marriage is done—by the way, we need to talk about how y’all are going to undo this thing, because it ain’t gonna be pretty—you know what you’re looking for, sexually, in someone who does want forever.”
