Page 19 of The Proximity Factor

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This conversation was taking a deep nosedive. “I don’t have a picture of her; nor will I ever have one.”

“What’s her full name? I’m going to look her up on social media.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned her.

“Oh, I just clicked on Instagram. And if you don’t tell me her full name, I’ll call Brynn or Anna for that information.”

Oh, hell. That was the last thing I needed. It would only remind them I wasn’t on their list of favorite people at the moment. “Fine,” I growled. “It’s Lanie Davenport.”

Her fingers must have gone to work because she got awfully silent. I waited for the worst. It only took a minute for her to squeal loudly in my ear.

“Dang, brother, she is fine. Like super fine. No wonder you’re in a funk. You have some suppressed sexual tension going on there.”

I coughed. “Excuse me. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Except she was probably right, especially considering the steamy dreams Lanie continually starred in.

“You’re such a liar. You want that babe.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. She’s too young for me and not my type.”

“Right. Because you don’t like hot women. Please, I’ve seen several pictures of your ex-girlfriends and, unfortunately, I know your ex-wife. All hot. Except, I have to say, Lanie might be the hottest of them all. Hmm. Imagine that. So don’t try to push your lies on me.”

“I need to go. I have some work to do.” It was all I could think of saying to her.

“Parker, come on. I’m here for you. You can be honest with me.”

I let out a heavy breath, wishing I could be honest with her. But it was best if I kept my current struggles to myself. In nine weeks, this would all be over. Hopefully. Lanie was proving to be quite the infiltrator. “Daphne, I love you. Have a good night.”

“Fine, be that way. I’m going to follow her on Instagram. Good night.” She hung up before I could forbid her.

“Damn it,” I swore out loud. I didn’t need another person in my life befriending my roommate, whether in person or online. Knowing Daphne, she wouldn’t just follow Lanie—she would contact her. I rubbed my hands over my face. That was the last thing I needed. I had visions of Daphne and Lanie becoming friends. Which meant more torture for me. If only she weren’t so attractive.

I threw my glasses back on and logged into the portal. It was nearing midnight, and I couldn’t procrastinate any longer. I steeled myself for a fresh round of idiotic questions. First up was a reminder about keeping the questionnaires confidential and answering them truthfully. It incensed me to think they suspected me of lying. Sure, I didn’t divulge everything, but I never lied. I had to wonder if they thought Lanie was lying. What was she telling them about me? I could only imagine. I wasn’t even sure she received the same set of questions. “Nine more weeks,” I groaned. “Let’s just get this over with.” I clicked record.

“Question one: Did you spend more or less time with Lanie this week than the previous week?” I mumbled, “Less.” The thought pricked me. Not because I wanted to spend more time with her, but clearly my refusal to befriend her was affecting her. For that, I felt bad.

“Question two: If there was a change in the amount of time, either more or less, please tell us why.” I stretched my neck from side to side, not wishing to admit why out loud. But I knew I needed to own it. If Lanie was getting the same questions, she would have told them why. “Because I’m a jerk.”

I could hear Daphne telling me that admitting it was the first step to recovery. I wasn’t so sure. Never had I ever thought I would be the kind of man to make a woman cry, or worse, refuse to comfort her. I feared I was turning into the one man I swore I would never be—my father. That thought made me shudder. No, I refuse to be like him. At least I didn’t relish Lanie’s tears the way my father took pleasure in watching my mother cry. Just the thought that I may be responsible for Lanie’s tears sickened me.

I shook my head, knowing where these thoughts were leading me. My Pop-Tarts may very well end up in a stupid basket when this was all said and done.

Moving on.

“Question three: What barriers, if any, exist in getting to know Lanie better? Me,” I admitted. “I’m the barrier.

“Question four: How do you think Lanie perceives you?” I spat out a sardonic laugh. “Not well at all. She probably thinks I’m the scum of the earth. And maybe she’s right.” These questions were depressing me.

“Question five: Any gestures by Lanie in the past week that have been meaningful to you?” I had to think for a moment. She’d mostly avoided me. I guess that in and of itself was a meaningful gesture on her part. She’d given me what I wanted. And I hated it. “She kept my Pop-Tarts on the shelf.”

“Question six: Name three things you need in a relationship, whether it be platonic or romantic. Does Lanie fill any of these requirements? What? Did you get this question from an online dating site? Come on, you can do better than this,” I scolded who knows who. Unfortunately, I was obligated to answer these ridiculous questions, although it wasn’t hard for me to think of what I was looking for in a relationship. Assuming I ever had the time for one.

The first thing I needed was ... “Loyalty and trust.” To me, they went together. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I could ever trust another woman again. At least romantically. If it weren’t for Ethan, Pete, and Javon, I wasn’t even sure if I would trust anyone ever again. “A sense of humor would be next on the list.” I needed someone who would help me not be so serious. “And lastly, affection.” I didn’t just mean sex. There was just something about a woman who knew how to be warm and did the little things, like leaving a sweet or even sexy note on my keyboard, or knowing when I just needed my space. There was a time when Maren and I were both affectionate. I thought we just got each other. Sometimes I wondered if our relationship and marriage meant anything to her.

I went to move on to the next question, but then I remembered I’d only half answered. Did I think Lanie possessed any of these qualities? Well, I knew she could write notes. At least to tell me to keep the toilet seat down. But I bet she had it in her to write some good love notes. And I knew she had a good sense of humor from the way she interacted with my friends. She had no problem being one of the “guys.” Or even poking fun at herself. Was she loyal or trustworthy? That, I didn’t know. I was too skittish and perhaps too skeptical to find out. “I would say Lanie has two out of three that I know of. It’s up to you to guess which qualities.”

That answer had me smirking at no one but myself and my webcam. I wanted to drive home my distaste for these questions.

“Question seven: Have any of the following types of intimacy occurred: emotional, mental, spiritual, physical (this includes nonsexual acts)? Seriously? This question again. No,” I stated clearly and moved on to the next.

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