The Plan (Off-Limits Romance, #4)(48)

She holds up a hand. “Don’t say a word to that. I run my mouth when I’m embarrassed, as you likely know. I’m not seeking reassurance. I’m neurotic, sort of. My dad died and my mom said to her friend on the phone maybe he didn’t want to stay. I realized later she probably meant because he was working two really hard jobs, and we were so damn poor, but at the time I thought of me, and I was five. It seemed like my fault.”

She sighs. “I’m sorry.”

I inch a little closer to her—close enough to grab her hands. “We’re friends now, right? Sort of?”

She looks down at the space between us, nodding after a moment. “So, whatever.” I twine my fingers between hers, and lift them up, and twirl her like we’re dancing. “Want to fuck?”

She laughs, and her face lights up in a mix of shock and delight. “How did you know?”

I lift a shoulder. “Just some crazy plan I had. To plant my seed inside some baby mama.”

“Did you call me a baby mama?” She’s giggling.

“Nothing wrong with a baby mama.”

“Does that make you a baby daddy?”

“If we make a baby. Do you want to make a baby?” She nods slowly, and I pick her up, and take her to her room, and fuck her—two times, slowly first, and fast and hard the second time.

And afterward, I throw the duvet over her and go get her some cider.

She sits up slightly to drink it. “Always cider.”

“Do you want some coffee next time?”

She grins. “I don’t know. Cider is good. Where did you get this cider?” She takes a long sip, getting whipped cream on her nose.

“I ordered it. From New York. From an apple farm I like up there.”

“Wow—really? You’ve been to this apple farm?”

I nod, smirking, because she looks so fucking cute with her hair messy and her glasses pushed down slightly on her nose.

“Did it look healthy? And wholesome?”

I laugh. “I don’t know. It looked like a bunch of apple trees.”

“But did the soil look really richly brown? And did the grass look super green? And could you smell the apples?”

“I don’t remember. Maybe?” I can’t help laughing more.

“You’re a writer, you know. I feel like I need a better description of this apple farm. I’ve always imagined them to be these incredibly wholesome places that can cure cancer if you just go walk around there for a little while.”

“Then you’d probably be disappointed.”

“Nahh. I think it’s magical there. A land of unicorns…” She takes a long swig of her cider. I look down at the duvet. Probably time for me to get moving. I get up and start to dress. “So—tomorrow?” I ask, pulling up my boxer-briefs. I cast a glance at her. “You want two times?”

She nods. “Today is the big day—I think. So twice today and twice tomorrow is ideal.”

“Sounds good.” After I’m dressed, I turn a circle in her room. I scoop the remote up and toss it to her. “You need anything else?”

“I’m good.”

“You okay with some papers coming tomorrow? From my lawyers? Nothing funky.”

“Sure. I’m fine with that.” As I head to the door, she says, “So, Gabe?”

I look back at her. Smile a little.

“Friends?” she says.

I nod. “Friends.”

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“No worries.”

All night, as I listen to her move above me, I make a liar out of myself.





Part Three





“I have so much I want to tell you,

and nowhere to begin.”



–J.D. Salinger





1





Gabe





After Marley left and I got sober, I decided I would take a scholarship from Northwestern. But through our lawyers and that paperwork, I found Marley living in Chicago. Because she’d gotten there before me, the whole city felt like hers. More to the point, maybe, I couldn’t stand to be near her.

So I went to Iowa. I didn’t like it there—I was enrolled for only three semesters before I moved to New York—but during my time in the dorms, I had a roommate I did like: a quiet, intense guy named Dave, who now works as a news reporter.

He had this quote that looked like it was cut from a newspaper taped to the wall above his desk. It was from the TV show The Sopranos. I saw it so many times, I still remember it, right down to the font:

Christopher Moltisanti: “You ever felt like nothin’ good was ever gonna happen to you?”

Paulie ‘Walnuts’ Gualtieri: “Yeah. And nothin’ did. So what?”

For years, I didn’t understand why he would tape it to the wall. Was there really anyone out there who didn’t care if anything good happened to them? I’d been wanting things to happen since I could remember. Mostly any things, but good things in particular. What was so noteworthy about this conversation that Dave wanted to see it every day?

Something about it stuck with me, and every now and then, I’ll think about the quote again and wonder what the fuck it means—and what it meant to him.