Page 28 of The Hookup Situation
My expression doesn’t change, but my heart rate increases. “For this to work, I think we need rules.”
“Rules are made to be broken.” She drinks more.
“That’s usuallymyline,” I tell her.
The wine continues to disappear, along with Julie’s filter. “This could get out of hand. You’re Nick Banks, and I’m …”
“Gorgeous,” I say without hesitation. “Everyone will believe itbecauseI’m Nick Banks, and I shuffle through women?—”
“You don’t have to finish that sentence,” she interrupts. “Your reputation doesn’t bother me.” She offers me the bottle as she hiccups.
“Okay, but don’t believe what you read on the internet. The character they’ve created of me is so far from the truth that it’s comical.”
We finish the bottle of wine. Julie leans her head back on the cushion and watches me.
“If we’re doing this, you’re right about needing to make rules.” She slides a notebook and a pink pen from her coffee table and flips it open to a blank page.
“You’re actually writing them down?”
“Documentation is important.” She clicks the pen a few times, then taps it against her lips. “Rule number one: Friendship comes first. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”
I nod. “That’s essential and probably the most important rule of all. Um, number two: Total honesty about what’s working and what’s not. If I do something that gives you the ick, tell me. And vice versa.”
“Brutal honesty,” she says, writing it down.
“Rule three: We are both aware it’s fake,” she says.
“Yep, can totally do that,” I add.
She writes it down, then pauses. “What about PDA and all that?”
The air shifts as I think about capturing her lips again.
“That should probably happen only when it’s necessary,” I offer. “Hand-holding, casual touches. Nothing that crosses lines.”
“Should we define those lines?” She’s not looking at me now, very focused on the notebook. “If we’re going to make this believable, there might be moments when we need to …”
“Kiss?”
“Yeah.” The word comes out breathy. “But only when it’s absolutely necessary. An example is if Craig shows up or if someone questions us. Or if eyes are on us.”
“That’s fair. Performance kisses only.” I clear my throat. “What about a safe word? In case either of us gets uncomfortable and we need to reel it back or walk away?”
“Smart.” She thinks for a moment. “What aboutpumpkin spice?”
I stare at her. “Really?That’syour safe word?”
“It’s seasonal and easy to throw into conversation without it being obvious.” She writes it down. “Oh, and our end date is November first. That’s when you’re planning to leave?”
“That’s right.”
“Okay. And …” She hesitates, pen hovering over the page. “What happens if one of us develops actual feelings?”
The question lands between us like a grenade with the pin pulled. We both know the chemistry is already there, crackling under the surface of this friendship we’re trying to build.
“We won’t,” I say finally. “Rule number one comes into play. I’m bad at love, Jules.”
“Right. Of course. Oh, we should do another rule of no jealousy. If either of us wants to talk to someone else?—”
