Page 90 of Let's Talk About Love
She gazed out the window. “I’m not going to sleep with people to make them happy anymore. It’s kind of my thing, but I don’t want it to be.”
“Wait, he asked to have sex with you?”
“No, but if things went well, he would have. Eventually.”
“He might not,” he said. “You don’t really know what someone will say until you tell them.”
That… was not what she expected him to say. Her admission should have gotten her a solemn nod, meaningful condolences, and a promise that she’d find someone someday.
Did he really care that she was self-rejecting? Or…
Or…
Or…
No. She wouldn’t allow herself to guess. Reading into his responses could get her heart into trouble. Speculation would take her by the handand twirl her straight into the fires of Mount Doom. She’d have to be direct.
“It seems easier to just not date,” she began, watching for any change in his demeanor. “Sex is too much a part of everything, and I don’t think it’s reasonable to tell my partner I don’t ever want to sleep with them and expect them to stick around. I’m not saying they wouldn’t agree. I personally am not okay with asking. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to try again someday, but I don’t want them to have the expectation that I will. It has to be my choice and a lot of people don’t respect that.”
She stared at his profile so hard she thought her eyes would cross. She prayed he would say the Perfect Thing.
(Not that she knew what that was, but she’d know it if she heard it.)
He said nothing. Alice waited and waited, watched the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel, the way his thumb tapped to the soft music. He looked in the rearview mirror at the sleeping twins in their car seats, out his side mirrors when he changed lanes, but never at her. Not even a glance.
Maybe she shouldn’t have told him that.
She always told him everything, but she should not have told him that.
Not yet.
CHAPTER
29
The cabin itself was small, but richly decorated. “Oh, I approve,” Alice said, looking around. Dark hardwood floors, plush sofas and armchairs in deep purple, elegant black rugs, a fireplace with a giant flat-screen mounted above it, and a tiny kitchen with granite countertops and black appliances. The walls were bare but wooden, giving it a rustic feel. She couldn’t stop herself from touching the curtain fabric.
“Can I take pictures?” Alice asked, phone already in hand. Several texts from Ryan waited for her (and more missed calls from Aisha).
She was angry and hurt, not stupid. Flitting off into the middle of nowhere for a weekend? Someone had to know where to send the search party if something went wrong. Ryan seemed the most likely to believe a stranger-than-fiction disappearance.
(And the least likely to hold a grudge in an emergency.)
“What are you smiling at?” Takumi asked when she wandered into the kitchen to find him. They had made a fast-food run on the way there, but Takumi, in usual Takumi fashion, went without and was currently slicing a block of cheese.
She showed him the screen.
“You guys made up?”
“I don’t think I was ever really fighting with Ryan. It’s Feenie. We’re pretty much wrecked. She refuses to talk to me.” Alice shrugged. Misery loved a party, apparently. And decided to use Alice’s existence to make all its dreams come true. “Do you think I’m being ungrateful?”
“About the school thing?”
“Yeah. Aisha keeps calling. I know that’s what she’s going to say.”
He never told her what he thought she wanted to hear. She cherished that honesty, even if it hurt.
“I thinkungratefulis the wrong word. I know you and I know you appreciate the gravity of what your parents are offering. You just don’t want it. You don’t have to accept something solely because it’s free.”
