Chapter 32 #3
We are together, but everything seems like it’s happening too fast. I’ve gone from a sleeping arrangement with a stranger to a one-night stand of incredible sex to two dates and now I’m his girlfriend.
He went out with Chandler more times than he’s been out with me, and he refused to call her his girlfriend.
The label seems like too much. Like it isn’t reality when all I want is Ross and I to be real.
I should be honored but I’m off-kilter.
“What about Landon?” His son is only an excuse I’m using to stall. To process how we’ve arrived here so quickly.
“What about him?”
“He didn’t seem too happy to meet me.” We didn’t have the chance to discuss his son’s reaction to me because of my headache last night.
Ross lowers his gaze while a proud smile curls his mouth. “He was worried I’m using you.”
I lift my head and blink at Ross.
He chuckles to himself and lifts his head as well. “He was upset with me, not about you.” He quickly explains the disadvantage to being a child of someone famous.
“Oh.” That’s kind of sweet. “But we haven’t discussed the whole dating, not-dating awkwardness from last night.” I suddenly feel raw and exposed, unable to navigate the vulnerability swirling inside me.
For research purposes, echoes through my head again. The sex was for motivation.
“I think we can safely say we’re dating.” Ross looks at me, hesitation in his eyes as well. “Maybe we can’t have a ton of typical dates during the season, but I’ll try my best.”
Typical. Non-typical. Traditional. Non-traditional. Wasn’t I the one arguing I didn’t know there were definitions to the types of dates.
“Did other women meet your sister?” I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t ask. Why am I making a big deal about this invitation?
“No.” He hesitates. “I haven’t declared anyone else my girlfriend, either.” His statement reminds me again that Chandler broke things off with Ross because he wouldn’t call her his girlfriend.
“Do you not want to be my girlfriend?” The vulnerability in his tone should have me doubling back, reassuring him I absolutely want that honor.
Instead, I say, “I’m so different from anyone else you’ve dated.”
Ross slowly smiles. “That’s what I love about you.”
My eyes widen.
“I love that you don’t want something from me. That I can surprise you.” He watches my face, seeing how truly surprised I am by everything he’s saying. “I love how you listen to me and then offer advice. Your pep talks are one of my favorite things.” His smile widens.
“How you laugh. Your wit. Your smarts.” Ross reaches out and brushes my hair back over my shoulder. “I love that you’re a writer. You see things differently, creatively.”
For research purposes.
“It just seems like meeting your sister is . . . a step.”
Ross tilts his head, trying to read me. Trying to understand my hesitancy. I don’t know why I’m struggling. I’m being juvenile.
“You met my boys. That’s an even bigger step. I want to take all the steps with you, sweetheart.” Ross kisses my shoulder. “What am I missing?”
His sister is important to him. I should be thrilled by the invitation. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Or maybe I do.
I’m out of my depths here, overwhelmed by his raw honesty, afraid to believe in it.
I haven’t been in any kind of serious relationship since Cameron and look how that turned out.
And I’d been in the same position when my relationship with Cameron began.
I’d pined for him as a young, foolish girl.
Crushed on him until he noticed me. Then I gave him my whole heart and he crushed me.
Gah. Even in death, I’m allowing Cameron to mess with my head and my heart.
“I’ll think about it.” I pluck at the blanket over my lap.
“That means no.” Ross rolls from the bed and bends over it to collect our leftovers, still present on the tray he’d set on the mattress. As he hastily picks up a crumbled paper napkin and reaches for his empty wineglass on his nightstand, I shove the bedcoverings off my legs.
“I think I should go home.”
He quickly lifts his head and freezes. “I don’t want you to leave.”
But I don’t want to stay. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’m panicked. From the moment I’ve entered his home tonight, it’s been a rush of emotions.
Sex in his kitchen. For research purposes.
A playful shower. A pep talk. A picnic on his bed. And now this . . . I’m his girlfriend?
The title doesn’t hold the weight I thought it would. Or maybe it holds too much weight because I can’t get it out of my head that everything started on a simple crush and a silly arrangement.
“I’m going to go.” I need some space. Some air. I don’t think clearly with Ross close to me. I make rash decisions, like wanting to sleep curled up next to him, or wanting to have mind-blowing sex with him.
Wanting to believe he desires me on some deeper level, like calling me his anything.
I wish I was a crier after sex, letting all the emotions rush out of me in a physical manner, releasing this tense overwhelm and sudden self-doubt.
“Will you be at my game tomorrow?” he sheepishly asks, displaying further vulnerability that only pisses me off.
The game. I don’t want to believe all he cares about is baseball and winning. That all he cares about is his stupid idea that I’m some talisman, and now perhaps a novelty girlfriend for a little while.
I’m new and different from who he gravitates toward. The novelty will wear off, like Cameron’s loyalty rubbed off. I’m a shiny coin, bringing good luck, but once worn, like stroking a talisman over and over again, the brilliance disappears, the newness gone, and a new lucky charm is sought.
Ridiculous, I know, but rational thought has flown out the window as I race to collect my clothing, that Ross neatly placed on a chair in his bedroom.
“We’ll see,” I respond, giving my mom-speak non-commitment answer.
I just don’t know if I can stomach more baseball.