Page 111 of Elevator Pitch

Or maybe I do.

I’m out of my depths here, overwhelmed by his raw honesty, afraid to believe in it. I haven’t been in any kind of serious relationship since Cameron and look how that turned out. And I’d been in the same position when my relationship with Cameron began. I’d pined for him as a young, foolish girl. Crushed on him until he noticed me. Then I gave him my whole heart and he crushed me.

Gah. Even in death, I’m allowing Cameron to mess with my head and my heart.

“I’ll think about it.” I pluck at the blanket over my lap.

“That means no.” Ross rolls from the bed and bends over it to collect our leftovers, still present on the tray he’d set on the mattress. As he hastily picks up a crumbled paper napkin and reaches for his empty wineglass on his nightstand, I shove the bedcoverings off my legs.

“I think I should go home.”

He quickly lifts his head and freezes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

But I don’t want to stay. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’m panicked. From the moment I’ve entered his home tonight, it’s been a rush of emotions.

Sex in his kitchen. For research purposes.

A playful shower. A pep talk. A picnic on his bed. And now this . . . I’m his girlfriend?

The title doesn’t hold the weight I thought it would. Or maybe it holds too much weight because I can’t get it out of my head that everything started on a simple crush and a silly arrangement.

“I’m going to go.” I need some space. Some air. I don’t think clearly with Ross close to me. I make rash decisions, like wanting to sleep curled up next to him, or wanting to have mind-blowing sex with him.

Wanting to believe he desires me on some deeper level, like calling me his anything.

I wish I was a crier after sex, letting all the emotions rush out of me in a physical manner, releasing this tense overwhelm and sudden self-doubt.

“Will you be at my game tomorrow?” he sheepishly asks, displaying further vulnerability that only pisses me off.

The game. I don’t want to believe all he cares about is baseball and winning. That all he cares about is his stupid idea that I’m some talisman, and now perhaps a novelty girlfriend for a little while.

I’m new and different from who he gravitates toward. The novelty will wear off, like Cameron’s loyalty rubbed off. I’m a shiny coin, bringing good luck, but once worn, like stroking a talisman over and over again, the brilliance disappears, the newness gone, and a new lucky charm is sought.

Ridiculous, I know, but rational thought has flown out the window as I race to collect my clothing, that Ross neatly placed on a chair in his bedroom.

“We’ll see,” I respond, giving my mom-speak non-commitment answer.

I just don’t know if I can stomach more baseball.

Chapter 33

[Vee]

“I think I made a mistake,” I state to Cassandra the next morning when we brunch. She hates the busyness of Sundays, and we sometimes pick a weekday for the late breakfast meal.

We sit inside a swanky little café in the West Loop. With rain in the forecast, the interior is gloomy while typically sunny and bright. Tables fill the space, and a large bar runs along the back wall. Bloody Mary’s are their specialty drink any day of the week. The place has a 1920s Art Deco-meets-modern-day vibe about it with arched mirrors and gilded bursts that look like flat palm trees.

“What happened?”

“Ross and I had a fight, of sorts.” Or rather I had a full panic attack. Ross was getting real with his feelings, and I stepped back. I couldn’t fully explain my reaction. However, I’d tossed and turned all night, arguing with myself, confused by my behavior.

“About what?” Cee-Cee casually asks, sipping a Bloody Mary while we wait for our orders.

“He wants me to go to Philadelphia to meet his sister.” I drop my gaze from Cassandra to my utensils, still wrapped in a paper napkin.

My best friend chokes on her drink. “He what? Wow.”

“I know, right? Like who takes their sleeping buddy to meet their siblings?”