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“It’s all a little kinky,” Jamie said. “A medical experiment to figure out compatibility. That’s some kinky shit even for me, and I like kinky shit.”
I nibbled my lip and didn’t add to the conversation, trying to understand what was going on inside of myself. For some reason, my feelings were irrationally hurt by mention of the study. I told myself to cut it out; there was no reason to be upset. We were all together now precisely because of the sex study. So why was I feeling uncomfortable? Irritated? Hurt, even? None of those emotions seemed logical.
And then I knew. I knew why I’d been avoiding the subject of the study, why I hadn’t even printed out the application papers yet.
Because I thought we allalreadyknew, the four of us, how compatible we were. We didn’t need some stranger in a lab coat to confirm this truth.
Or at least I already knew. Did they not feel the same way?
I told myself I was being stupid. Iwasbeing stupid, right?
I forced a smile as I slipped off Jamie’s lap and moved to the counter to poor myself some coffee. I didn’t want any of them to see my face. I knew they would immediately know that something was wrong. Jamie would catch the way I bit my lower lip. Cade would sense the way the fingers of my left hand tapped a little too rapidly on the edge of the counter. One glance in my direction and Ellis would know I was avoiding his gaze.
I hid my discomfort by sipping at my hot cup of coffee, then noticed Ellis looking at me. I stared at him over the lip of my cup, past the billows of steam. I was afraid to ask the question that I knew I was going to ask.
“Everything will be different for you, Tessa, once you have thirty-two grand in the bank,” Ellis said. He, too, had offered to give me the 8K he would have earned. None of them wanted the money. So why did they still want to sex study? Was it just so I could have the money? Or because they wanted some scientific confirmation that we were good together.
And with that thought, my brain went even further into dangerous territory.
Ellis, Jamie, and Cade had each told me they loved me. But nothing had ever been spoken about what happened after the sex study. Would we still be together or all go our separate ways? Was it ridiculous to think that we could all… What? Have a permanent, committed, exclusive relationship together? Because that’s what I wanted.
They’d helped me prepare for my audition, and after it was over, no matter what happened, I wanted to help them. Help Cade fill out his applications for law school. Help Jamie record his new work. Help Ellis with a script he was interested in writing. I’d help them the way they’d helped me. Each of us could take a turn going after our dreams, with the others providing support.
But maybe I was alone in that desire.
“So when is it again?”
I looked up from my cup of coffee to see Cade leaned against the counter, his arms crossed.
How could he not remember the audition was tomorrow? I opened my mouth to answer when Jamie interrupted me.
“The thirtieth, right?” he offered.
“Thirty-first,” Ellis corrected. “I hope we’re picked.”
“Me, too,” Cade responded, and Jamie high-fived him.
Acid ate into the back of my throat and my heart felt like it had been vacuumed empty. Silly me, here I thought they were talking about my audition.
But no, it was the sex study. Everything between us came back to the sex study. That should be fine. After all, me getting the acting part wasn’t guaranteed by any means, and I needed money if I was going to get a new place and stay in L.A.
Logically, I knew it. But somehow, every time Jamie, Cade or Ellis mentioned the sex study, I felt my heart break a little more.
And I didn’t know what to do about it.
Chapter 20
Tessa
The next morning, I crawled out from beneath the tangle of Ellis, Cade, and Jamie’s bodies. I got ready. Then, pausing at my bedroom door, I looked back longingly at Jamie with his tattooed arm flung over his eyes, Cade twisted in the covers, and Ellis’s body still molded to the shape of mine, and it felt like saying goodbye.
I would be back of course. But I wasn’t sure if things would be the same.
After much agonizing, I left them a note.
ECJ,
I’m sorry. I can’t do the sex study. I hope I’m not pissing any of you off—or letting any of you down. Seems like I do a lot of that. I tried to be someone new in pursuing this sex study, but I guess in the end, it’s just not me.
