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“Come here.” I open my arms and draw her in, rubbing her back gently as she continues to sniffle into my chest. At least she’s stopped crying. “Look, the idea that people will understand your art just as you intended it is sort of a pipe dream. It would be nice, sure. But it’s unrealistic. Like the idea of some perfect happy relationship. It’s a fairytale.” I give a small sigh as I say the words. Then, to comfort myself, I inhale deeply, getting that strawberry scent of Lacy’s shampoo from her hair. A warm rush of energy immediately washes over me.
“You think romantic relationships are just fairytales?” Lacy asks, pulling back and looking up at me, her eyes concerned.
“I mean, those happy-ever-after fairytale relationships, yeah. Look at Eliot and Nanette. It looked picture perfect for a moment. But it didn’t last. I’m not sure those happy-ever-afters exist in the real world,” I say quietly, meeting her eyes reluctantly, “Or at least not inmyworld.”
“But there’s still a lot of love in your world, Ben,” Lacy says softly, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and giving me a little squeeze. “You have to stop looking for that storybook ‘perfect’ kind of love and realize that you’re still loved.” Lacy has finally stopped crying and her eyes are bright and clear.
The tables have turned—when did she become the one comfortingme?
“Yeah, I think you might be right,” I say softly, looking down at her. “It’s just hard, you know? Finding something that’s real.”
I want to say more. I want to tell Lacy about that gnawing feeling of loneliness I often get, even when I’m in a room full of people. I want to tell her about my paranoia that I’m somehow cursed to never have a truly fulfilling, real romantic relationship. It’s hard not to think that way when the bulk of my romantic relationships have been set up for me by my manager, James, for publicity purposes. I want to tell Lacy all of this but I don’t. Not now. And even though I don’t tell her everything that’s running through my head, I think, to some extent, she knows. She just gets it. She just getsme.
“IknowI’m right,” Lacy says with a smile. “You’ll find real love, Ben. I’m sure of it.” She brings her hands around my neck and pulls herself closer to me, a small smile on her face.
“We’ll see,” I say noncommittally as I wrap my arms around her waist, feeling the softness of her body against mine. Now that I’ve calmed Lacy down, I’m dying to continue that kiss we had behind the curtain before that goddamn live stream interrupted us.
Thatwas real.
Lacy peers up at me, biting that damn lip again.Is she doing this on purpose? I feel like Pavlov’s dog. So be it. I lean down and kiss her, gently, bringing my hand to her face as I hold her cheek. Without hesitation, Lacy returns my kiss, her lips melding perfectly to mine as we drop into the moment.
Forget the picture-perfect fairytale. Forget the future. Right here, right now.
This is what I want.
Chapter Ten
Lacy
Themorningafterthelivestream fiasco, I wake up to three missed calls followed by a series of texts from my editor and publisher, Alyssa.
Saw the viral video of you reading your new poem.
Why didn’t you tell me you were planning this?!
We need to capitalize off the moment.
Call me ASAP. Want to discuss how to leverage this.
I’ll pull in Trevor from marketing for a Zoom call. Just say when.
Ugh. She sounds kind of pissed that I didn’t tell her beforehand, but also happy about it? After that last kiss with Ben yesterday, the poem was the last thing on my mind. Ben knew exactly what to say to calm me down after the live stream fiasco.
And that kiss? It felt so right. I remember it now, stretching luxuriously in bed as I relive the moment of melting into his arms, our lips meeting, his hands running through my hair, down my back, exploring my body… I feel a tingle of desire between my thighs at the memory. If a simple kiss has me feeling like this, what else might Ben have in store for me?
I wonder if he’s already up?
I went to bed immediately after the kiss yesterday, needing to retreat to figure out the weird mix of emotions in my brain—happiness, fear, confusion…
This morning, my mind is clearer. And the first thing I want to do today is see Ben. I slip out of bed, pull on a t-shirt and shorts, and plod downstairs. To my surprise, the kitchen is already a frenzy of activity. I stop in confusion. Did Ben actually wake up before me this morning?
Sure enough, when I enter the kitchen, Ben is there, shirtless, furiously mixing pancake batter.
“Good morning, lazybones,” he says, greeting me with a grin. “Thought you’d never get out of bed.”
“Theoneday you get up before me, and now I’m the lazybones?” I retort with a smile.
“Hungry?”
