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“What took you so long?” Brice asks in a whisper. He holds up a corner of his blankets. After sliding in and curling around him, I give him a small kiss.
“I seem to remember a time when it was you being the cautious one. Your first question used to be if your mother saw me.”
He wraps an arm around me. “Back then I was scared that if we got caught that my mom might not let you spend the night anymore.”
“Not worried about that anymore?”
He kisses me on the forehead. “I’ve got bigger things to worry about, I guess.” He pauses, and I can tell he’s reverting back to that cautious side of his. Calculating his next move and my reaction to it. “Like you and me,” he says tentatively. He lifts my chin delicately so we’re eye to eye, the t
ips of our noses just an inch apart. “What are we doing?”
“We’re lying in bed after a very satisfying day of work.” I kiss his nose, unable to resist the temptation any longer. “Were you wanting to have another romp in the sheets? Because I’m actually pretty sore. If we go again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to perform tomorrow.”
“No,” he says, the smile sliding off his face to be replaced with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. “I mean what are we doing? Like, what kind of relationship is this?”
I can’t say that the question hasn’t been on my mind as well, but each time it comes to the forefront of my thoughts, some other event pushes it back in line. The past twenty-four hours have been a massive shift from the status quo. They haven’t exactly given me enough time to breathe, much less to figure out where Brice and I are left standing.
“If you’re worried about us not being friends again because all this makes it too weird, well, don’t. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“Exactly,” he says and tightens his hold on me, almost possessively. “I can’t—and don’t want to—think about a life without you. But with everything that’s happened, it’s not like we can just call each other friends anymore, can we?”
“Friends with benefits. Big benefits,” I say and reach down for his junk, giving his cock a light squeeze. He doesn’t show any signs of arousal though, which I guess is pretty normal, considering the day we’ve had.
“Is that all we are?” From the look on his face in the dim light, this is a question he’s been struggling with. A question whose answer he’ll be taking very seriously.
Brice has always been the more emotional one while I’ve been the pragmatic one. It was only a matter of time before we had a long sit down about how we define our relationship. I guess I was just expecting to have more than twenty-four hours to figure out where I fall on this topic.
After a deep breath that definitely does nothing to reassure him, I say, “I know you want an answer right now. And I know exactly what you mean, I really do. This is a huge shift in our relationship. But to be honest I haven’t had a moment to think since this all started. It started with money, but you’re right. It’s definitely something more. I’m just not sure what yet.”
“It wasn’t just about the money for me.” He’s pouting. “Not from the very start.”
“It wasn’t for me either. I wouldn’t have even considered Greg’s message last night if I didn’t feel something for you.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I shake my head. He’s just not letting this go. “I told you that I don’t know where this is going. I don’t want either of us to get hurt. And I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”
Brice sits up, clearly riled up. “But you just said you had feelings for me. If we both care about each other, why can’t we just commit? I don’t want to lose you either, but I don’t want to just be friends with benefits.”
I don’t just sit up like him; I throw my legs out of bed. “I know I said I have feelings for you, but it’s not that simple. I need some time to figure this out.”
“That’s what I don’t get. What is there to figure out?”
A scream of frustration erupts from my throat, but I try to keep it from being too loud so as not to wake Brice’s mother. Still, I can’t stop myself from stomping to his door. “I said I needed time, but if you won’t give it to me, I’ll just get some for myself.”
With that I slide back into the hallway on silent footfalls, tiptoeing back to the couch, holding back tears the whole way. I curl up under the ancient quilt and wonder if I’ve just ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Chapter 7
“Couldn’t sleep well?” Maggie asks over a simple breakfast of toast and eggs. Brice and I don’t look up from our plates. He manages a grunt, but I continue to stare holes through the table.
By the time we finally get outside and hop in a cab, we still haven’t spoken a word to each other. We each lean on our own door in the back of the taxi, leaving a canyon of space between us. At Greg’s studio, we continue on with the mutual silent treatment while listening to the plans Greg has cooked up for us. He’s got three scenes slated today, the first of which will have us acting as the customer and employee of a shoe store.
“Gotta throw the foot fetishists something every now and then,” Greg explains.
In the dressing room, we automatically gravitate to opposite sides of the room. Following Sally’s directions to wear something tight but mostly normal, I choose a sundress with a flora pattern running along the bottom edge. I slip back into the sandals I wore on the way, figuring that showing my toes off from the get-go is going to be the best approach for this demographic. By the time I’ve finished changing, Brice is gone. When I get to Studio A, he’s already inside, putting on the green smock he’s supposed to wear to show that he’s a worker at this fake shoe store.
Looking closely enough, it’s easy to see that this ‘shoe store’ is nothing more than the bedroom set from yesterday with the bed pulled out and a dozen boxes of shoes set up around a white vinyl floor that’s been rolled out.
