Page 50 of Until

“I can tell you right off the bat I think the problem is too much talking. You’re twenty-five, and you've never had sex. You’re dating a smoking hot man who is really into you. And he's being really patient. But I get it. I know you feel like if you give in to how you’re feeling and you have sex with him, it’s like you're getting paid for sex. I mean, I don't think it's like that because you have feelings for him, but I get it. In other words, you’re overthinking like usual, and it’s beginning to drive me crazy.”

“I know, sis, I know. I get it. Sometimes, I annoy myself with all of this. And it’s not that I feel like I’d be getting paid for sex, it’s that that’s the final step for me. Sex means so much to me, and doing it with him will mean that I’m allowing myself to get hurt because that’s what’ll happen. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt him either. But there's more. There's stuff I can't explain. He's hiding something from me."

"What do you mean?” she asks.

"I don't know. But for example, I've never seen where he lives. Not once has he offered to go there. I don't even know where he works. All I know is that he is a plumber. A plumber who drives a really nice car and dresses really well. And when I think about it, it wasn’t even him who told me he’s a plumber."

"Do you think maybe he's married?"

"Well, I'm wondering that now." I laugh. "No, there’s no way he’s married. Especially not after tonight’s date. Plus, it doesn’t make any sense. Why would Alex set up a married man to try to break his heart?.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That doesn’t make any sense. But neither does a billionaire hiring someone to break someone else’s heart. I mean, what does he get out of that?” Odessa says. “So what are you thinking?”

"The thing is, this is a huge issue for me. And I know I have no place to say anything because my whole reason for being in this relationship is to eventually end it. I’m well aware of what a shitty person I am for that. But I thought maybe he and I could get back together afterward, though. What do you think?"

"I thought Alex said you could never see Ryan again,” she says.

"The way I see it, after I do this one thing for Alex, we’re even. He doesn't get to dictate the rest of my life."

"So what are you going to do?” she asks.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just going to keep doing what I have been doing. And keep trying to protect myself. You know, try not to get in too deep. Try not to fall too hard. You know, all the things I've basically been unsuccessful at."

"Well, if there's anything I can do, just let me know."

"Thanks, sis. I'll talk to you later."

As I hang up with Odessa, I stare at my phone for a minute longer. I go through my options again: book, music, TV, and nope. What I really want is company. I need a friend.

I continue to stare at my phone, wishing it could do something. I want someone to call me or text me, but nothing happens. I could call Ryan, and he'd be back in no time. From somewhere. Or I can go somewhere else. Somewhere where Ryan won’t be occupying so much space in my head.

I know exactly who to call.

I scroll to find the number and tap. The number starts ringing right away and is answered just as quickly.

"Hey, it's me,” I say. “Can you pick me up? I need to get out of here.”

I look out the window, waiting for the long black car to arrive. Instead, a bright blue BMW pulls up at the curb outside my apartment.

I grab my handbag and rush outside, quickly sliding into the car.

“Thanks for picking me up,” I say.

“No problem,” Alex says. “Where to?”

“I really don’t care. I just need a distraction, and I don’t want to be alone.”

“You sure you don’t want to call Ryan?”

“I can’t,” I say. “I can’t rely on him so much. I can’t think of him as a real boyfriend. You know that. It’s only going to make it harder on me later.”

Alex nods. “Then come over. We can make some popcorn and watch a movie.”

“That sounds great.”

The drive to Alex’s flew by. Without my saying so, he seems to understand that I don’t want to talk; I just don’t want to be alone. Despite the reason for our relationship, I consider him a good friend—like a big brother.

After making a big bucket of buttered popcorn, Alex takes me into the basement, where he has a small theater. In the middle of the room, an oversized, comfy couch with a blanket folded on a cushion is surrounded by classic movie theater chairs.

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