Page 137 of Off Camera
I don’t just want to put her arms above her head and fuck her while she’s still wearing one of her leather skirts and heels, although that will never get old.
I also want to wake up next to her every morning.
I want to hold her hand when we’re out in public.
I want to get her name tattooed on my thigh, under the butterfly tattoos, so she’s always with me.
I want, and I want, and Iwantso many things with her, and I don’t know how to ask for them.
In the past, it’s been easy to have those conversations with the woman I’ve been seeing. It’s easy to go from dating to serious.
How the fuck do you go from fuck buddies to something more? Do we just keep fucking each other from now until eternity? Is it going to be fifty years of this, of texts asking if she’s free and her asking if I want to hang out?
“Hey.” Maverick snaps his fingers in my face, and I blink. I didn’t realize I’d sunk into a trance of dark brown hair the dimples on Avery’s cheeks. “Earth to Plant Daddy.”
“Sorry.” I slide my glasses up my nose. “Yes, we’re still seeing each other. It’s going well.”
“You know what this means, right?” He grins and nudges Dallas’s shoulders. “Reid likes her more than he said he did at the bar. He’sobsessed.”
“I am not,” I say.
“You so are, man. You’re fucking blushing right now.”
“I amnot.” I touch my cheeks, and they’re warm under my fingers. “It’s from the sun.”
“The sun in January?”
“Is it bad if you like her?” Dallas asks. He clicks off the television and gives me his undivided attention. “It’s obvious she likes you too.”
“It’s not bad. It’s just not part of our plan. We agreed this was physical. Telling her I miss her when she’s not next to me doesn’t fit the bill of casual,” I say, and I stand up, walking a lap around the room. “I do, though. I do miss her when she’s not next to me. Like right now. Sure, I’m having fun with you all, but I wish she was here. And not just because of the sex. Because I want to hear her laugh and make her smile.” I run a hand through my hair. “I have to tell her, don’t I?”
“Uh, yeah, because you’re halfway to being in love with her,” Maverick says.
“I don’tloveher. That’s a bold word.”
“Fine. You don’t love her—not yet, at least. But you do like her. You care for her, and it’s not fair to either of you to feel this way and not let the other know,” Maverick says. “Remember when I was sorting through my feelings for Emmy and didn’t know what to do? You told me to tell her, and I think you should heed your own advice. You need to let her know.”
It’s funny to see Maverick like this—the doting partner. The family man. A one-woman guy who hasn’t looked at anyone else in years.
I’m happy for him.
I’m happy for Dallas too. They both deserve that love. They fought for it and worked hard for it.
Deep down, I’m also jealous.
That’s usually me, and I want it again.
I want it withher.
A sure thing in a confusing world of maybes.
“Okay,” I say. I know it’s the right thing to do, but it doesn’t make it any less scary. “I’ll tell her.”
“Thatta boy.” Maverick clasps a hand on my shoulder. “That’s how you do it.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when Maverick Miller was giving out relationship advice.” Dallas laughs. “I like this new side of you, Mavvy.”
We go back to playing video games, the afternoon passing with Maverick taunting the twelve-year-olds we’re up against and Dallas handing us drinks. When it starts to get dark outside, Maverick stretches his arms over his head and swipes his phone off the table.
