27. It’s Complicated
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
it’s complicated
IMOGEN
THURSDAY NIGHT
PIPER AND JAY’S APARTMENT
“A whole weekend together, huh?” Piper asks, passing me a joint while balancing a massive glass of chardonnay on her knee.
“Yeah,” I reply with a chuckle. “Why, is that crazy?”
We’ve been sitting on her patio, watching the sunset for half an hour or so while I work on my conference application. The weed feels like it might actually be helping with the theory portion, but how it’s going to read tomorrow is anyone’s guess. My brain feels… bigger, though.
Is it supposed to feel bigger? West coast weed is something else.
“I mean, it’s less crazy than sleeping with him while risking your place in your program, and his job all at once.” She pauses, tapping her nails tentatively against her glass. “But I guess that’s not really my business.”
“Sounds like you just made it your business,” I fire back.
She grins.
“You did say you guys were casual though, what’s changed?”
“Nothing, we still are,” I reply. “That’s what we agreed on; it just makes the most sense.”
Piper snorts into her wine and I arch a brow, looking up from my laptop.
“What?”
“A weekend at a ranch isn’t casual, babe. That’s a couples’ thing.”
Is it? It’s been a hell of a long time since I dated someone.
I was surprised when Roman asked me to go away for the weekend, but it was a no brainer. A whole weekend in the fresh air with a hot older man? I wanted to tell him I’d pack my bags and we could leave that night, but unfortunately the reality of a packed schedule hit back pretty quickly.
Since then he’s been texting me pictures of the ranch every day, and each time I get a new one, my excitement grows. Wide open spaces, endless trees, and so many horses. For someone like me, who’s lived in cities my entire life, it looks so serene and peaceful.
“Earth to Iggy!” She snaps her fingers in my face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
I glower at her. Why does she have to make this into something it’s not?
“You don’t have to be a couple to do stuff like this. It’s just fun.”
“Fine, whatever you say,” she sighs. “But when did this start back up? I thought you guys were going to be all professional and shit.”
“After Jay got punched in the face. When I started walking home from the party, I realized that I didn’t have my keys, and…”
“Roman swooped in like a knight in shining armor and saved you?”
“Well, more like meandered in looking confused while walking his dog.”
I have to admit, even though I don’t want to talk about how I feel about Roman, it’s nice to gossip about something positive. Usually, I’m just telling her how bad my hookups are, or she’s helping me swipe through guys on KinkFinder.
“You wanna know what I think?”
“No,” I reply. “But you’re gonna tell me anyway, aren’t you?”
Piper doesn’t miss a fucking beat, barreling past my half-hearted dismissal.
“I think you like him. Much more than you’ve liked your other hookups.”
“Look, he’s no-strings-attached, and either of us can walk away any time we want. Besides, how come you’re the one giving me relationship advice? You’re with a guy for six months and all of the sudden you’re Dr. Phil?”
“First of all, that dude can’t even call himself a doctor anymore,” Piper chuckles. “And second, Jay and I may have only been dating for half a year, but emotionally we’ve been together from the moment we started loathing each other, way back in our forensic psychology class. Our love is built on a beautiful foundation of mutual dislike; it’s a truly powerful thing!”
“If I remember correctly I’m the one who suggested we go to that party where you made out with him. Sounds like you might owe me.”
“ Hate -made-out with him,” Piper corrects, her finger raised to the air in defiance.
“Yeah, because adding a superlative really changes the meaning of the sentence.”
“Hate isn’t a superlative, it’s…” She thinks for a second and frowns. “An adverb? Make out is the action, so the verb… and hate is modifying— does any of this sound right, or am I just really high?”
I take a big gulp of my wine and shrug my shoulders.
“I don’t know, dude. I got a C in English. I just toss big words down on paper and hope they make sense.”
Piper sighs and stretches out her long, tanned legs.
“Whatever, I give up. My brain fucking hurts from grading anyway.”
“How’s the program going?” I ask, happy to shift the subject to anything but my serious-not-serious relationship.
“Good. I submitted a paper to a journal– oh, and Jay got an invite to a conference in Orange County. I think I’m gonna tag along with him.”
Piper smiles and I see that look in her eyes, that look that tells me this thing with her and Jay might just be forever.
“And how’s the whole living situation going?”
“It’s good. Really good.” She beams, blush creeping into her cheeks. “Kind of didn’t expect it to be this good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, I guess I was worried that we moved so fast it was gonna fall apart, but… I really love him. I know he’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s my idiot, you know?”
“I’m happy for you, Pipes.”
I remember meeting her after class, listening to her obsess over how much she couldn’t stand the guy. She wanted to punch him in the face, and honestly, if it ever came down to it, my money would be on Piper. Jay looks tough with all his tattoos and muscles, but he’d be down in a second.
“Don’t worry Iggy, you’ll get your own idiot someday.” Suddenly, her face lights up in mock-excitement, emphatically putting her hand on my leg. “Oh my god, maybe you already found him!”
“Roman’s not an idiot.”
His indecisiveness is irritating, sure, but it’s more than just being an idiot. Besides, there’s no way I’ve just stumbled into…
“I think him playing will we, won’t we for weeks on end might push him into the idiot category.”
“Or just being a man, right?”
She snickers and bumps her shoulder against mine.
Maybe I’m the idiot thinking this was going to be casual.
I know this is dangerous. It feels dangerous, but what do you do when a person starts to consume your every thought? The whole thing is filthy and forbidden, a never ending supply of dopamine hidden in an unmarked paper bag.
“Look, all I’m saying is I get the sense that there actually are some strings attached to Mr. No Strings.”
Roman and I have similar demons. He’s been alone for so long, struggling with how to move forward, and I feel like I’ve thrown a wrench into all that. I walk around like I’m healed, but inside I’m terrified to really connect. Somewhere along the way I stopped seeing love as balm, and started to see it as just another potential source of pain.
“I don’t know,” I sigh, taking a final swig of wine. “Why couldn’t this be simple?”
I get home from Piper’s around 10:00pm to find Logan sprawled out on the couch. He’s got his phone in his hand, scrolling through some app or other as the TV sits on idle.
“You planning on staring at the login screen all night?”
“Oh, oops!” He laughs. “I got distracted texting Frankie about something, which led to me searching up a George Herbert Mead paper so I could win an argument with him. Now I’m ten Wikipedia articles deep reading about–” He grabs his glasses off the coffee table. “The history of the Wisconsin Central Railway Company, apparently.”
I’m only half listening. A big part of my brain is still stuck on what Piper and I talked about. Am I falling for Roman? No, that’s impossible. We barely know each other; I think I know his dick better than I know him as a person. What I can’t deny is that whenever he texts me my whole body buzzes, and I can never get my grubby hands on my phone fast enough to reply. He’s like a shot of whiskey straight to my brain.
Logan tilts his head, staring at me with a curious expression.
“Are you offended by the Wisconsin Central Railway Company or something?”
“What? No,” I scoff. “I can safely say I have no strong opinions on the subject. Anyway, I’m not ready to hit the hay yet, you wanna watch something?”
Logan beams, springing out of his seat.
“Stay right there, I’ll make popcorn! You want a drink?”
“Just soda water,” I tell him as I pull out my phone and check for texts.
“Lime? Lemon?”
Nothing.
“Lime, please.”
He side-steps the couch, barely avoiding a toe-related disaster, and sprints for the kitchen. I’m exhausted, but I like watching movies with Logan. Besides, if I start ignoring him and rushing straight to my room every night to text Roman, he might start to pry.
IMOGEN: What do I bring for horseback riding? And is it actual horseback riding or sexy horseback riding?
“What do you wanna watch?” Logan shouts from the kitchen.
ROMAN: What’s sexy horseback riding?
IMOGEN: I don’t know, I just realized that could be interpreted in some really fucked up ways.
ROMAN: Oh, definitely. I’ll call the FBI. Launch a full scale investigation into the shit you look up online.
“Hey!” A piece of popcorn hits me square in the forehead. “Are you even listening to me?”
I blush, a little embarrassed that I got so swept up in a couple of text messages.
“Pick anything you want,” I reply, flashing him a sugary smile. “I’m cool with whatever as long as it’s scary.”
Logan’s eyes flick down to my phone and I lock it.
“What’s so interesting on there?”
“Thirst traps of hot guys. You wouldn’t be interested.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he chuckles, sitting back down beside me on the couch. “Depends on who we’re talking about. Maybe it’s Burt Reynolds.”
I stare at him in disbelief.
“Who would make thirst traps of Burt Reynolds?”
“First of all, he was hot shit back in the day.” Logan retorts, clearly prepared to defend himself as he scrolls through Netflix. “Second of all, I would absolutely make thirst traps of Burt Reynolds. If I knew how.”
“You’re such a shithead.”
“Yeah but you love me.”
“Okay, sure, fine. What about Fright Night?”
I point at the TV, in the hopes of dragging him away from the topic at hand.
“Ooh, old one or new one?”
He’s immediately looking on with rapt attention, like it’s some sort of test.
“Ugh, you know how I feel about the new one, Stephen Geoffreys as Evil Ed was the pinnacle of weird. Old one, every day of the week.”
My phone lights up just as Logan hits play, and I can’t resist checking it one more time before we’re too deep into sexy Jerry Dandrige’s evil vampire plot.
“Is that another thirst trap?”
I shove him to the other end of the couch.
“Pay attention to the movie, dingus.”
ROMAN: Bring thick leggings for riding, comfortable shoes, a sweater, and anything else your pretty heart desires.
We’ll need a blindfold. I can definitely bring that.
“I forgot to tell you, Piper and Jay rented an AirBnB in the Cascade… Hills or something?” I’m coming up with all this entirely on the fly, which is pretty impressive considering I often forget my actual plans about 5 minutes after I make them. “We’re just going to grade papers, drink wine and shit like that, but I wanted to let you know I won’t be around this weekend.”
“Sounds like a good time,” Logan replies, eyes glued to the screen as Roddy McDowell does his best Vincent Price impression.
I let out a sigh of relief, tossing some popcorn into my mouth to calm my squirming stomach. Not a single part of me feels good about lying to my brother, and so brazenly too, but it’s not that big of a lie.
“I’m glad we did this. The whole you-moving-in thing.”
I smile, despite it all.
“Me too.”