Page 35 of The Proximity Factor

“Question two: Assuming you spent time together, name the activities you engaged in.” The question seemed innocent enough. But why did I feel like I could interpret activity to mean sex? Not like Parker and I were engaging in such activities. I just had this feeling that these researchers were expecting or even hoping for it. I don’t know. Maybe I was reading too much into it. “Well, we had dinner with my mama on Sunday. Then during the week we had dinner together, watched movies, played games with friends, exercised, and celebrated the holiday together.” I think that about summed it up.

“Question three: Assuming you engaged in any activities together, would you say these activities brought you closer together or further apart?” They were assuming a lot this week. They must be basing their questions on previous weeks’ answers. “Definitely closer together.” Did that sound more than friendly? It’s not what I meant. Even if I couldn’t help but remember sitting on that checkered blanket with Parker while fireworks filled the sky. Every time our arms would brush against each other, or he would lean in close and tell me the different minerals that produced each color, more than friendly thoughts would appear. Thoughts like, I wish he would hold my hand. Or Is he a good kisser? I had this feeling he was. The way he thought about everything so carefully told me he would be deliberate and thorough when it came to physical affection.

“Gah!” I accidentally said out loud, forgetting I was being recorded. “Forget that. It means nothing.” Nothing except that I thought about my roommate way too much.

“Question four,” I hurried to say. “Has your impression of Parker changed?” Oh. Yeah. “Yes,” I whispered, like I should keep it a secret.

“Question five: What is your impression of Parker now?” I sank back into my pillows. That was a dangerous question. “Honestly, I have a suspicion he might be one of the best men I have ever known.” Saying it out loud only made me feel the truth of it more. I knew we hadn’t known each other long, but his sister and friends wouldn’t love and respect him if he weren’t a good guy. And the sheer number of things I talked him into this past week said a lot about him. Not to mention, he was respectful. Never once did I worry about him trying to take advantage of me. He made me feel like I was more than my body. He believed I was smart. It made me want to believe it too.

“Question six: Have any of the following types of intimacy occurred: emotional, mental, spiritual, physical (this includes nonsexual acts)? Back to that question, huh? If you must know, I would say we have connected emotionally. And a few casual touches here and there. Oh, and the time he hugged me after the whole Greg thing. That’s it.” Did I sound disappointed? Dang it.

“Question seven: How would you rate your experience so far?” I rubbed my lips together. “Well, um, I look forward to next week.” And I did.

I SAT ON THE EDGE of my bed, eyes fixed on the door separating me and Lanie. At least physically. Mentally, she wouldn’t leave me. The frightening part was, I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to. Although I’d only been able to work a forty-hour week and was behind schedule, I was finding it hard to regret all the time I’d spent with Lanie. Being around her almost made me feel human again. Too human. So human, I wanted to march over to her room and beg her to watch a movie with me just so I could look at her the entire time—the way she smiled at the romantic parts with teary baby-blue eyes, or how she gasped and jumped when something scared her. It made me want to take her hand into my own and let my thumb brush over her soft skin as if to say I would protect her. My favorite part was when she would look over at me with the most content gaze, as if she wanted to do nothing else but spend the evening with me.

It had been a long time since a woman had felt that way about me. Maren stopped looking at me that way years ago. I’d failed to recognize her discontent, mistaking it for just settling into married life. But observing Javon and Brynn, and Pete and Anna, I realized now that being content with your spouse isn’t something that should go away. If anything, it should grow.

I threw my glasses onto the bed, lowered my head, and covered it with my hands. What was I even thinking? I knew what I was thinking. I was thinking about the gorgeous creature who giggled and beamed brightly every time a firework burst in the sky, or who made me come out of the shell I’d created for myself over the last few years. All her little touches when we played games or ran together were not only driving me mad with desire but bringing me back to life, little by little.

Lanie was penetrating every wall I’d built up, and damn if I didn’t want to let them crumble. But what if they did crumble? What then? Was Lanie going to magically want to be with a grumpy older guy? Would people perceive me as the epitome of a midlife crisis? And there was no telling what her mom would do to me. The woman already had me on edge by threatening me. She made me feel that if I didn’t show up to the Fourth of July parade, she would assume I only had ill intentions for doing this experiment and would see that I suffered. There was no doubt in my mind she would make good on that promise.

What worried me more was that Goldie Davenport knew exactly how enamored I was with her daughter, and part of her didn’t mind. She was testing me to see if I was good enough for Lanie. I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid to fail or pass that test. Lanie reminded me so much of the Maren I fell in love with. It scared the hell out of me. More terrifying were the ways in which Lanie was far superior to my ex, like how she enjoyed the simple things and knew what it meant to not have life handed to you on a silver platter. Granted, I appreciated the way Maren had pushed me to be better and more successful. But I liked that Lanie didn’t seem to care about status or the size of her bank account, much less mine.

I raised my head, shaking it, trying to remind myself this was a temporary situation. At the end of next month, Lanie would go back to Goldenville, and I would have to find some dive to rent closer to Atlanta. It was an unpleasant reminder I had nothing to offer Lanie—or any woman—right now.

With that depressing thought, I put my glasses back on and dragged myself over to the desk to complete this week’s questionnaire, both pleased with and angry at myself for refraining from knocking on Lanie’s door.

I logged into the portal, wondering what the nosy bastards wanted to know this week. It was clear this experiment had something to do with intimate relationships. Why they chose strangers for their study, I had no idea.

I clicked record and read the first question out loud.

“Question one: Did you and Lanie spend more or less time together this week than the previous week? And how much time, whether more or less? Please note the reason for the change.” I cleared my throat, not wishing to be honest. But then I heard Mrs. Davenport’s voice in my head. She’d asked me on Thursday if I thought I was an honorable man. More than anything, I hoped I was. I wanted to be the man my father wasn’t—a man of his word. So, I answered truthfully.

“More time. A considerable amount more than the previous week. The reason for the change? Lanie,” I whispered her name with all the awe she deserved. The woman had a gift for talking me into anything, even a game night with friends. The looks on Anna’s and Brynn’s faces said it all when they showed up tonight with their husbands. They knew Lanie was getting to me.

“Question two: Assuming you spent time together, name the activities you engaged in.” My first instinct was to say, None of your business. But I needed the money this experiment promised. “Normal day-to-day things, eating together, watching shows together.” I didn’t mention the Gilmore Girls. Might as well shout out that she had me wrapped around her cute little manicured finger. “We had a game night with friends and dinner with her mom,” I said casually, not wanting to give them too much information.

“Question three: Assuming you engaged in any activities together, would you say these activities brought you closer together or further apart?” I flexed my hands, trying not to let the invasive questions get to me. “Closer together,” I mumbled. Thoughts of how close I’d like to get to Lanie filled my head, like when she’d leaned next to me during the fireworks show. Her fruity breath tempted me to turn my head and see just how good she tasted. That was until her mom glared at me, silently warning me to tread carefully. Even tonight at the door, I wanted to wrap my arms around Lanie and feel her head against my chest while I held her close, breathing in the honey scent of her golden hair.

Moving on.

“Question four: Has your impression of Lanie changed?” That was a dangerous question. I ran a hand over my hair and let out a heavy breath. I still thought she was sexy as hell, but she was more than that. Much more. “Yes,” I admitted, glad they didn’t want more details.

The next question obliterated my moment of relief. “Question five: What is your impression of Lanie now?” A laugh escaped when I said, “Lethal and intoxicating.” I thought about sitting across from her at dinner one night as she tried to feed me grilled Brussels sprouts from her fork, swearing they tasted good that way. And I let her shove it in my mouth, knowing damn well I’d hate it, but I didn’t care because she was killing me with her cuteness, and I just wanted to see her smile. All the while, a part of me wanted to beg her to keep her baby-blue eyes to herself before I did something we might both regret.

I bet those perverted researchers were having a field day with these answers.

“Question six: Have any of the following types of intimacy occurred: emotional, mental, spiritual, physical (this includes nonsexual acts)? Great, we’re back to this question.” I didn’t hide my displeasure. “Isn’t it obvious we’re growing closer together? Is this what you wanted? Maybe this is an experiment about older men and younger women and I’m proving everything society thinks about me to be true,” I lashed out. “Like I said before, you will never know if I make love to Lanie.” As soon as it came out of my mouth, I realized I’d just admitted my feelings for her were growing. I could have said have sex with, but I didn’t because I knew if I were ever with Lanie, it would never just be sex. Nor would I dishonor her by making it only a physical act.

I had to stop thinking about it.

“Question seven: How would you rate your experience so far?” I leaned back in my chair. The only thought that came to me was, “It’s the best torture around.”

“IT’S REALLY GOOD TO SEE Parker out among the living again.” Anna bounced Jessalyn on her knees while we waited for the Ultimate Frisbee game to start Thursday night. Jessalyn was wearing the most adorable sun hat to protect her cute head from the evening sun. All the older kids had opted to stay with grandparents rather than watch their dads play.

Whoever thought playing outdoor sports in the middle of summer in Georgia was a good idea was an idiot. I suppose I was a bigger idiot for choosing to come out and cheer them on. I guess I should have been grateful it was in the high eighties instead of the high nineties, like it was earlier in the day. But when I looked out on the field to see Parker helping his friends warm up on the sideline, the only heat I felt was my flushing cheeks. He looked amazing in his athletic shorts and a tank top that showed off his toned arms with the perfect lines. The intellectual-athletic vibe he had going on with his glasses really worked for him. More like, worked for me.

Yeah, me.

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