10. #TBD #2
Jackie just nods. “Yes, that makes sense.”
“It does?” Trish asks.
“Yes, that is what newly-formed couples do. They excuse themselves from the group to continue growing their level of intimacy.”
Trish sputters. “New couple?”
Even Rose blinks before asking, “Intimacy?”
It’s Jackie’s turn to frown. “Yes. I read various books on relationships after Flynn and I got together.”
“Of course you did,” Jules deadpans.
Jackie nods at Rose and me. “Those two show all the signs of a newly-formed couple.”
“Is that true?” Ian finally speaks up, his tone amused.
Rose opens her mouth, but I beat her to it. “You can’t argue with a genius.” I tighten my arm on her when she starts to pull away. “Now if you’ll excuse us, my girlfriend and I have a lunch date.”
I tug Rose toward the benches in the quad, leaving one verified genius, two shocked women, and an apathetic engineer behind.
When we reach a bench situated in front of a small pond filled with ducks and turtles, we sit, Rose removing her Coke from her pocket first.
There’s a beat of silence before Rose’s head turns to me, her eyes narrowed. “I was only going to tell them that if it came up. I wasn’t planning on announcing it. I don’t like lying.”
I lean back on the bench, feeling oddly satisfied with the way things turned out. “This way I get you all to myself, and they won’t think it’s weird.”
She huffs. “No, they’re just compiling their questions for the inquisition later.” She takes her food back from me, allowing me to stretch out my arm behind her.
I chuckle. “When do you think that will be?”
She takes a large bite of her sandwich, pushing it to the side to answer.
“Who knows?” She chews some more. “The NASA peeps are taking Trish and me on a tour after lunch. They’ll probably throw some questions at me then.
Thankfully, as it’s Thanksgiving this Thursday, I’ll get a bit of a reprieve before they can launch a full attack. ”
The conversation with my sister is still fresh in my mind. I switch gears. “What does Thanksgiving look like at the West Ranch?”
Rose cracks open her can of Coke and takes a sip. “Thanksgiving is usually spent in sweats, with a heaping pile of turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes in a Styrofoam container balanced on my knees while watching football with my brothers.”
“That sounds great.” It would be a lot easier for me if my family’s Thanksgivings were like that.
Rose smiles, as if thinking of the time fondly. “Yeah, it was.”
“Was?”
She pops a fry in her mouth. “This year Trish decided to ring in her first Thanksgiving being engaged to Ian by turning into Suzy Homemaker and hosting a large feast at their house.” Picking up her sandwich again, she eyes it, like she’s trying to strategize where her next bite should be.
“Knowing how whipped my brothers are, I’m sure Jackie and Jules will rope them into going. ”
I frown. “You weren’t invited?”
She looks at me like I’m stupid. “Of course I was.” She takes another bite, and I watch her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk. A drop of maple syrup slides down her chin. “But I’m not going.”
“Why not?” I wipe it off with my thumb, sucking the syrup off.
We both stare at each other, the moment charged.
Finally, Rose looks away, chewing fast. “Trish is a deplorable cook, so it’s probably better to fly solo this year.” She gets very engrossed in the turtles bobbing up and down in the ponds.
Rose says she loves being single and independent, but like the mechanical engineer I am, I can’t help noticing the pieces that don’t fit.
1. Sad at her brother and best friend’s wedding.
2. Wistful glances, followed by looks of annoyance whenever she spies her friends and their significant others together.
3. Her agitation when the men crashed their girls’ night.
4. How she is always staying over at someone else’s house when she has a penthouse to herself.
5. Not wanting to be the seventh wheel.
All those elements add up to someone not okay with being alone on Thanksgiving. I may not like going to my own family’s holidays and get-togethers often, but I have my reasons. Rose, on the other hand, looks anything but satisfied with being alone.
“Why don’t you come to my mom’s house for Thanksgiving?
” The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through.
But once I do, I realize it’s a great plan.
I keep my promise to Brittany about staying longer, and Rose, acting as my buffer, doesn’t have to spend the holiday alone.
“That’s got to be better than celebrating solo. ”
Her chicken sandwich pauses halfway to her mouth. “I didn’t think we were doing those sorts of things.”
I shrug, trying to play off my sudden nervousness.
“We’re friends with benefits, aren’t we?
We can call it a Friendsgiving.” As my heart rate ticks higher, I remind myself of what Rose said.
She isn’t looking for a boyfriend. I’m not looking for anything serious.
So as long as we both remember that this is casual between us, there’s probably no harm in spending Thanksgiving together.
Rose takes a bite, frowning, like she’s mulling it over. Probably trying to come up with more excuses.
“Plus, if I tell my mother I invited you, but you said no, Sunday Strip Day will get real awkward.”
I wouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop Rose from pausing mid-chew and speaking without even trying to shift her food aside in her mouth. “Oo oudn’t!” Her garbled exclamation is hilarious.
Smirking, I lean back, closing my eyes and soaking up the sun. “You up for taking that chance, Rosie-girl?”
I peek from behind my lashes as she grabs her Coke to help wash down her large mouthful.
She purses her lips, considering me. “Are you serious right now?”
I can’t tell if she’s annoyed or pleased. Maybe both. “As serious as a stripper without glitter.”
That gets a small smile out of her. “That is serious.”
I watch the ducks and turtles moving around and over the small pond in the middle of NASA’s campus courtyard as I wait her out, knowing she hates any lengthy silence.
I’m proven right when, after a moment of my continued reticence she heaves a large, annoyed sigh, her breasts threatening the thin fabric of her T-shirt.
“Fine.” Rose pulls away from me and stands, tossing the rest of her lunch in the nearby trash can. “I’ll go.” Hands on hips, she faces me. “But after, you better fuck me like a stranger.”
I choke on my saliva.
Two employees walking behind her do a double-take.
When I can breathe again, I ask, “And how in the world does one fuck someone like a stranger?”
Rose crosses her arms, the move pressing her breasts up, making the outline of her bra more pronounced. “You hit it hard and beat feet. And by it, I mean me.” She thumbs to herself. “No feelings, no afterglow.”
Chuckling, I stand, guiding her back to where the others are camped out with their lunches on a picnic bench, all nervousness gone. This is why Rose and I work so well together. And why Thanksgiving won’t be laden with expectations.
Right before we reach the girls and Ian’s table, I celebrate with a kiss to her cheek. “Deal. After Thanksgiving, Operation Stranger Danger will be in effect.”
But as I drop her back off, Jules giving me more side-eye and Trish looking dreamily between Rose and me, the jitters return.
’Cause nothing about Rose so far has me wanting to beat feet.
Rose
Trish wastes no time after Vance heads back inside and Ian begins the NASA tour. “You two make such a cute couple.” She’s leaning in close so only I can hear as Ian and Jackie point out the different buildings and what people do inside them.
“Couple of people having sex is all,” I mutter, ignoring Vance’s plan to lie and say we’re dating.
I’ve learned the hard way that if you say something often enough, you start to believe it.
Like when I was little and I told myself if I was good enough, if I was perfect enough, if I just tried hard enough, that Mom would stay.
And if Mom would stay, so would Dad. Lying to yourself takes an emotional toll, and I can’t afford to start lying about Vance and me.
It’s better not to try.
I’m smart enough to know that every time Vance throws an arm around my shoulder, teases me, or does sweet things like invite me to Thanksgiving dinner, that it’s not gonna end well for me once he boards that space shuttle.
“This is where the Virtual Reality Lab is,” Jackie says, her steps more like hops in her excitement. “I’ll begin observing training sessions next week.” She points to a nondescript brown building that looks like a high school built in the seventies.
In fact, most of the buildings here are boring and boxy. I find it ironic that on the inside, they house some of the most state of the art equipment ever invented.
“Just sex, huh?”
Trish and I jump, not having seen Jules sneak up from behind.
Jules squeezes between us, draping an arm around each of our shoulders. “Is that what Bodie thinks too?”
I pretend to be interested in what Ian is saying about the Cold War era causing the lack of windows due to security issues. “His idea, actually.”
“And that’s okay with you?” By Trish’s tone, it’s apparently not okay with her.
I must not have come across as flippant as I thought. I shrug off Jules’ arm. “No biggie.”
“Huh.” I can feel Jules’ side-eye. “So did you actually come to NASA today for lunch and a tour or are you really here to see your boy toy?”
I laugh, nearly choking. “I’m not sure boy toy is the right terminology.” I think of our fifteen-year age gap. “Maybe geriatric gizmo?”
Jules’ hands land on my shoulder, stopping us. “Dude, he’s my age.” She looks mortally wounded. “Uncool.”
“Yeah, but much to your dismay, you and I aren’t dating.”
“I always forget how much younger you are than the rest of us,” Trish says.
“Thanks?” I make a note to buy more eye cream on the way home.
“It’s a total compliment,” Trish says. “It speaks to your maturity.”
“Yes.” Jules scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Because nothing says maturity more than a Blow Job shot taking college student who takes pole dance classes.”
“Says the woman who owns multiple rhinestone collars for her pet cow,” I deadpan.
“Cookie isn’t a pet.” Jules looks affronted. “She’s family.”
I take an interest in my surroundings. “Uh huh.”
“Speaking of family ,” Trish butts in. “What is this I hear about you not coming to my Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Yeah, and be the odd man out again?” I roll my eyes. “I don’t think so.”
“Just bring Vance,” Ian says, startling the rest of us by joining the conversation. Jackie is gazing at an ugly brown building with pebbled cement siding like it’s Santa’s workshop.
“He’s having Thanksgiving with his family.” I omit the part about me joining him. Lying by omission is okay. I do that all the time. That’s how I stay one step ahead.
“Did you miss the part where Rose said she and Vance are just friends with benefits?” Jules asks.
Ian shrugs. “That doesn’t sound like the guy who stalked Trish and me in Germany until I gave him your number.”
Trish straightens to her full five feet five inches in her four-inch platforms. “What now?”
Ian raises an eyebrow in his fiancée’s direction. “You didn’t think it weird that Vance just happened to show up at the church in Munich right when we were there and followed us around?”
Trish frowns. “But he said?—”
“And then declared he wanted to come with us on a day trip to Neuschwanstein Castle before suddenly leaving while we shopped for souvenirs?”
Trish frowns harder.
Ian looks at me. “It’s because I gave him your contact information. That’s what he really wanted.” He tilts his head, looking very much like a lawyer giving his closing argument to the jury. “That doesn’t sound like a guy who just wants friends with benefits, does it?”
“I agree with Ian,” Jackie adds, turning away from the building and sliding into the conversation as if she was always listening. Which she probably was. “If you think about it logically?—”
“As one does,” Jules murmurs.
“From Bodie’s contrary actions, he is either unable to say what he really wants or is oblivious to it,” Jackie continues. “‘Man is a confused creature; he knows not whence he comes or whither he goes, he knows little of the world, and above all, he knows little of himself.’”
Jules nods. “That sounds like one badass feminist quote right there.”
“Who said that, sugar?” Trish smiles at our genius friend.
“Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.” Jackie pushes up her glasses. “A German poet, politician, and scientist.”
“Do tell.” Trish loves when Jackie gets lost in her genius. We all do, really.
But my heart is beating too fast to listen as Jackie ventures on about an eighteenth century man’s accomplishments while we walk down a tree-lined sidewalk.
As I try not to lie to myself, I can’t help but admit that I like what I just heard. Which my street-smart sixth sense is telling me will only bring trouble my way.
We are just friends. Friends who slap uglies on the regular.
So Ian and Goethe can suck it.