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She squinches her nose. “No, not entirely, but you have to admit it was a little, uh…patriarchal?”
Ugh. Direct hit. “So, because I’m older than you. Own a company that’s the best in the industry and want you to have access to it, that’s being patriarchal? Huh.”
“Don’t ‘huh’ me.“ She raises her voice, startling me.
I throw my hands up. “What did I say? I’m genuinely confused.”
“God, you’re so intense.“ She sits on one of her oversized chairs. “You have to admit, the circumstances surrounding us are strange. You’ve had me investigated, hid your identity, and pursued me relentlessly. This past week we’ve been more than intimate. You’ve been inside my body for what seems like hours every day, which heightens the extreme nature of what’s going on between us. I’m honestly not sure whether to be scared. Or flattered. Or whether I like you or love you or hate you. I don’t know what any of this all means—“
“Fuck me. I don’t know how not to be intense. It’s my M.O,“ I interrupt, realizing the irony of my reaction a half second too late. My voice softens. “Look, Clover. It’s how I’ve accomplished everything in my life. When I set my mind on something, I go into hyperfocus.”
She watches me. Tears trickle down her face anew. Fuck. I’ve made her cry again. I want to wipe them away, but I’m afraid to touch her right now. Afraid she’ll end this and I’ll lose her.
Being out of control is not a good feeling.
Is that what she’s trying to tell me?
Is that how I make her feel?
“Why me?” she whispers so softly I’m not sure she realizes I can hear her.
I crouch beside her. Tentatively place my hand on her knee. “You’re the most interesting and intelligent person I know. You make me feel things I’ve never felt. I want you with me. I want to know everything about you. I want to make you proud to be with me.” I spew out a bunch of platitudes because I truly don’t know how to express what I’m feeling without scaring her.
She doesn’t say anything. Just stares at me with water-filled eyes.
“Why not me?“ I squeeze her knee.
“I can’t lose control of my life. It already feels like I am.” She places her hand over mine.
I shake my head sadly. “Ah. We’re both in the same boat, then.”
“You see? This won’t work.” She attempts to pull her hand away but I hold it fast with mine.
“It can, if we want it to.” I rise to my knees. Cup her cheek with my free hand. “Shouldn’t we at least try?”
Clover presses her forehead to mine. “Great sex isn’t a relationship, Joar.”
“I know that.” I decide not to press any further. She’s tapped out. “It’s still early. Could we table this conversation and hang out tonight? No sex. We can do whatever you want. Even pole dance.” I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get us to the next step.
Huh. This compromise thing is such an unfamiliar feeling.
She looks surprised. “Really?”
“Yes. I can learn from my mistakes.” I lean in and kiss her softly. Chastely.
Clover scoots toward me. “You’d watch a marathon of Vanderpump Rules with me?”
“Sure?” Inwardly I cringe, though I’m certain I’m not able to hide my reaction.
“It was on the Hate Date list.” She narrows her eyes.
She paid attention.
I change my expression to one of exaggerated joy. “Sure! I can’t wait!”
Clover lets out a breath. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“Always.” I stand and hold my hand out.
