“Does River get massages?” she asked, knowing the answer already.
“River is my girlfriend, yes, but she doesn’t get on this table for them. Besides, it’s not like we’ve done it in months. So, if you want me to hang out for an hour before I have to go, I can, but I can’t also do this.”
Lacey pointed to the table.
“Okay. Then, skip the massage.”
“So, I carried this into my car, drove it all the way here, and lugged it out of my car for nothing?”
“Do youwantto give me a massage, Lacey? Because you just told me I can’t have it both ways, and I’d choose to hang out with you over a massage any day.”
“I should go,” Lacey said and lifted her lotions bag off the floor.
“What? Why?” she asked, standing up in an instant.
“Because, Cam, this is wrong. I’m not here to give you a massage. You want to hang out with me, and I want that, too, but we can’t. You… know why.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me.”
“If I leave now, I’ll get stuck in less traffic, and I’ll be able to shower this week off me before going out with River. So, I’ll go now and maybe, I don’t know, in the future, we can figure something out.”
“Figure something out?”
“Hanging out,” Lacey said and dropped the bag, probably remembering that she needed to fold up her table.
“We have to figure out how to hang out? And can I help you with that if I’m not a client now?” she asked when Lacey huffed while trying to fold up the table.
“No, Cam.”
“Lacey, come on.”
“I’m sorry. I think this was a mistake. I should’ve said no to you on Sunday when you asked me to do this.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Lacey looked around and said, “I’m in your house; the house you share with Kennedy, who is your girlfriend, and I’m going out with mine later. You know why I didn’t say no, and that’s the reason I can’t be here right now, or probably ever again.” She met Cameron’s eyes. “Light purple?”
“Ken loves it,” Cameron replied and shrugged.
“Doyou?”
“No, but I don’t hate it, either. I tolerate it.”
“And that’s what we both want for our lives, I guess.”
“No, it’s not. I don’t want to just tolerate things in my life anymore. I want to be happy.”
“Maybe ask Kennedy if you can paint the walls a different color, then,” Lacey suggested. “I should go.”
“Lace, can I at least text you?”
“What would you say?”
“I’m going to figure this out, Lacey.”
“Which part? The walls?”
“No, all of it,” she answered before picking up Lacey’s bag. “I know that I need to, or that Ken and I need to figure this out, so we will. Okay?”
