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Fuck.
Fuck.
All those things A said are getting to me. The way he wanted to care for me. I know it’s pretend, but I want something like that for real.
The phone buzzes a couple of times, but I can’t look at it yet. Because I’ll have to pretend that wasn’t the best orgasm I’ve ever had, and because there’s no one actually here to help me deal with the onslaught of emotions I don’t know how to handle alone.
When I finally flip through, it’s impossible to keep the smile off my face.
A: B? You okay? Still with me?
A: That was a lot, wasn’t it?
A: Take some time and breathe, okay?
A: I’ve never experienced anything like that before. Like I wanted to be there with you and see your face. Like I wanted to watch you go over the edge. It didn’t feel like what I’ve had. Like getting off was the only thing that mattered.
A: I’m okay with it. Gave me some things to think about.
A: And I meant it. You deserve to have the love you want. To have someone treat you like you matter. Because you do. Not many people would do something like this for a stranger, not unless it was strictly transactional horny teenager shit.
A: I’m going to let you rest. Thanks for this. I won’t be weird. I promise.
The sweetness pouring out of the messages lifts the heavy cloud that was forming over me. I was overdue for a good orgasm, but I also desperately needed that outpouring of support. Things haven’t been great lately.
Hell, things haven’t even been good for a long time.
Half the time I’m barely hanging on, keeping my grip on the thread only so I don’t drag the people I love down with me.
Going to the tattoo shop helps.
Mine and Noah’s relationship helps.
What A and I just did helped.
But that’s not something I can count on to keep me afloat.
It was a one time agreement between two people who were lonely and knew what each other needed.
It’s not like it’ll ever happen again.
Chapter 7
Atlas
What was supposed to be a one-off becomes a regular occurrence.
Not necessarily the sex bit—though B did talk me through a handjob I was too embarrassed to admit I got off during—but settling into this sort of… pretend dating of sorts.
It started with me sending him random, positive affirmations the day after. I just wanted him to feel better. Which turned into us jokingly flirting, which led into another scene in his thought experiment, and well…
It’s kind of become our norm.
We both know it isn’t real, but we’ve stopped acknowledging it.
It’s nice, though, to have this break from all the stress.
It’s been a little over a week since the night we started our game of pretend, and things have settled back into normalcy.
