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I’m sure she does. And I’m sure when I tell her all of it, she’ll understand. The problem is that I don’t quite know where to start.
“I guess I never got the chance to think about Dax as anything but my friend.”
Kierst opens her mouth, which is filled with doughnut, and says something that sounds like, “I’m not following.”
I rack my brain for the best way to summarize the last four years. “Well, I met Dax the same night I met Stu. Dax also got my number and asked if I wanted to hit up a new bar the following weekend with him and some of his friends. I said yes because I liked Dax, but our meetup ended up being pushed out a week because of some reason I can’t even remember, and then I had a stupid work thing the week after that and had to cancel. By the time we did hang out, I had already gone on, like, seven dates with Stuart. We were basically in a relationship.”
“But it wasn’t a good relationship?” Kierst asks.
There’s far more to it than that. “It was in the beginning. Stuart, as much as it pains me to say it, is a pretty great guy. He’s smart and reads a lot. We used to stay up late on the weekends drinking wine and talking about the dumpster fire that is our world. It was a lot of fun at first. I liked him. It’s possible I even lovedhim at some point. But then things slipped from great to good, then eventually into fine territory. I found myself dreading our predictable Friday night dates and wishing that, instead of hanging in and talking all the time, we could go out and try something new. Nothing terrible ever happened between us. We just…”
“Suffered from the boiled frog effect?” my aunt pipes in.
That’s it. There isn’t enough coffee in my system this morning to let that comment slide.
“Are you going to sit there all day saying random, weird things?”
Aunt Livi sets her book down on the stack in front of her and looks up. “No. I’m referring to your conundrum. It’s like boiling a frog.”
I exchange a look with Kiersten, who is sporting the same blank expression I imagine is on my face. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to explain this one,” I say.
My aunt rolls her eyes as if she’s disappointed that I’m not following her logic. “Have you ever tried to boil a frog?”
Another look with Kiersten.
“No,” I answer for both of us. “And I’m hoping that you haven’t either.”
Aunt Livi shakes her head. “Of course not. But if I were to heat up a pot of water and try to put a frog in, it would immediately jump out.”
“I would say that of most living organisms,” Kiersten mutters under her breath.
“Well, if you put a frog in cold water, then heat it up slowly, the changes are so subtle that the frog doesn’t notice until it eventually boils to death.”
“This is a disturbing analogy,” Kierst says.
My aunt nods in agreement. “Yes, I regretted telling it about halfway through, but the sentiment remains.”
“Okay, fine. Your relationship suffered a slow, painful death. But let’s get back to McDreamy. Sure, the timing never worked out before. It happens. But now the universe has done some weird-ass magic mojo shit and given you a do-over. Why not try now? At least take him for a test drive.”
Kiersten doesn’t get it. It’s not that I don’t see Dax as boyfriend material. I do. But I got a taste the other day of what my life would be like if Dax wasn’t in it. It was arguably the worst twelve hours of my life, far worse than breaking up with Stuart, so I have no desire to feel that way again. If Dax and I were to hook up and then break up, we would never be able to go back to the way things were. I once had a sex dream about him and swore there was a weird tension between us for the better part of a month. If something happens between us here, how can I go home and not think about it? How will it not irrevocably impact the good thing we’ve got? It’s that idea that makes me build a wall in my head—a mental friend zone, if you will—with Dax on one side and my heart on the other.
“Are you going to get that?” My aunt nods at my silent Samsung.
“Get wha—” Before I can complete my sentence, my screen lights up with a message.
It’s from Dax.
It’s a picture of Dougie crouched on the roof of his garage in his Spider-Man suit. Likely taken moments before he realized he was so far off the ground. Then a message.
Sorry I bailed last night. Spider-Man refused to retire the tights until 4am. Want to try again? Drinks? Friday?
“Message from Dax?” my sister asks.
I lock my screen and set it on the table. “Maybe.”
She shakes her head, her smile stupid and smug. “You’re smiling like an idiot. You like him.” She takes a very long drink of her coffee. “And as soon as you admit that to yourself, the less sexuallyfrustrated you’ll be. You can bang all the random big dicks you want, but nothing is as good as sex with your best friend. Think about how well Dax knows your mind. That will translate into how well he knows your body. Orgasms for days, my friend. For days.”
Chapter 14
