Page 140 of The Plus One Pact

But I manage to shake my way through the rest of the conversation.

I manage to make it all the way up the stairs before I fully give in to my desire.

She asks if I want to record our fuck.

I should say no. That's the smart thing.

But I don't.

After all, this is the one place where I know how to give her what she wants. How the hell can I turn that down?

The set-up is simple. And safe.

No video.

Audio only.

A cell phone in the corner, set to record. And everything else… business as usual.

I don't check privacy settings or make sure she isn't going to send this to a friend. I only make one requirement: I record the same thing on my phone.

So, we have equal ability to hurt each other.

A strange, perfect way to share trust.

And knowing someone could hear us, that we can listen?

It's hot as fuck.

I fall into it completely.

That night, after dinner with my family, and another silly game meant to bring us closer, I go to my bedroom, and I replay our session again and again.

Why did I never think to do this?

There's something about Ivy's voice.

Familiar in this strange way.

And sexy in a way that's not at all strange.

The next day is strange and perfect.

This time, our group breakfast is a walk to a local cafe. Since we need to "scope out our competition." After too much coffee and cold eggs, we walk to the beach, where we practice the art of discomfort by running into the ocean in our clothes.

According to Mom, waiting until the sun dries our clothes is a great way to "learn the art of patience."

Lunch is a picnic in the backyard, where we take turns answering abstract questions designed to build intimacy. At first, we answer the easy questions together. Would you like to be famous? If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go? What were three qualities that first attracted you to me?

We take the harder questions upstairs.

What makes you feel most loved? What's your most embarrassing memory? What is a fear you've never shared? Do you think love is more than just a feeling?

Somehow, it's easier sharing with these abstract questions. Like I'm not offering her a peak into something I'm supposed to be hide.

But I want to do more. Do better.

So, this time, I tell her the truth. I have to hide what I do not just because I know my family will never approve of trading sex for money. But because, deep down, this isn't the life I envisioned.