Page 77 of The True Love Experiment

“How’s Fizzy?”

Ahh, the real question. “Equally gorgeous,” I say on a pained exhale.

“I see.”

“We’re in her hotel room to watch the show. She’s changing.”

I can almost hear Nat’s brows lift through the line. “Iseeeeee.”

I push away the image of Fizzy’s bare back before she turned to grab her pajamas from the drawer and duck into the loo.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. What I don’t tell Nat is that I slipped a couple of condoms into my wallet this morning. I’m not having sex with Fizzy.I’m not.But my lesson in being unprepared for this kind of thing turns eleven in January. You don’t have to tell me twice.

I move to the railing on the balcony. During the day, Fizzy’s room would have a stunning view of the ocean. I can see it now, but only as a dark mass of churning movement in the distance. The proximity is underscored by the loud tumble of waves as they crash. The unremitting turbulence mirrors what’s happening in my chest. “Anyway,I called to tell Stevie good night, but if she’s busy, I’ll just catch her in the morning.”

“You sure? I can grab her.”

“No, let her educate Insu. He must learn exactly what he’s in for.” I turn at the sound of Fizzy moving around in the room behind me. “I should go anyway. Make sure you watch tonight. Give me those ratings.”

“Don’t I always?”

I smile because, yeah, she does. “Tell the squirt I love her, and have a good night, Nat.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I step inside and come to a stop with one foot in, one foot out. Fizzy said she was changing into somethingcomfy. I foolishly hoped that meant long-sleeved flannel pajamas, not tiny shorts and a soft cropped sweatshirt. There’s just… so much skin.

“What the fuck ’ave you got on?” I ask, accent turning coarse.

“They’re my jammies. You want me sleeping in a snowsuit?”

“Yes.”

She lifts her chin to indicate the balcony. “Everything okay?”

I get my head back on straight. “Yeah. Just telling Stevie good night.”

“I bet she misses not getting her Saturday with you.”

“Not really.” I set my phone on the dresser, undo my tie, and unbutton my collar, hearing how that sounded. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we have a blast together, but she’s not suffering alone. She’s watching Wonderland with Insu tonight.”

“A girl’s dream.”

“Right.” Tossing the tie to the chair, I admit, “We’ve all had to learn how to roll with it when my schedule gets nuts. I’m lucky that Nat is so flexible about all of it, especially lately.”

Fizzy grabs the bottle of champagne, twists it open with a pressurized pop, and climbs onto the bed, sitting cross-legged. “You two are the most well-adjusted divorced people I’ve ever met.” She takes a swig. “I have a friend who only talks to her ex through her lawyer.”

“It’s something we’ve had to grow into.” I glance around the room. Other than a bed and a dresser, there’s only the fancy and very uninviting chair in the corner. I’m really going to have to sit on the bed with her. Fuck.

Fizzy must sense my hesitation because she pats the mattress. “Get over here,” she says. “Let’s watch this.”

I sit down, leaving as much distance as possible between us—which is not much, considering that she’s set herself in the direct center. With a playful gleam in her eyes, she hands me the champagne. I feel like I’m being hunted. I take a long drink.

The bubbles warm my stomach as Fizzy presses Play and the show opens. The theme music is catchy, an awful earworm if I’m being honest, but that works in our favor. It’s been added to countless videos and memes on social media—as far as Brenna tells me, that is. Fizzy bounces in place a little when Lanelle enters. “I fucking love her.”

“She’s great.” God, I love this energy. Just the two of us, watching this thing we created together.

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