Funny Feelings (46)

“God, you’re pretty like this, Fee.”

She opens heavy lids and smiles drowsily at me. “What? Topless and quiet?”

“No. Satisfied and on top of me.” And a surge of pride rushes through me at the way her eyes dilate when I say it.

She adjusts a little and I hiss, still painfully hard.

“What if I want to know how you look? Satisfied, I mean?” she asks, palming me through the jeans before I grab her wrist to stop her.

“No, Fee. You don’t have to.”

“I think it’s only fair. And I want to.”

I choke on a groan. “Don’t you have to meet—” someone, I can’t call it to mind when all the blood in my body seems to be occupying one region. “—soon?” Though I know it won’t take long. Embarrassingly quick at this point, I’m sure. Her eyes dart down to my watch.

“Shit! Yes, In ten minutes!” And she flies off my lap with a push that has me going cross eyed in a grunt of pain. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” she cries. I wave her off while I try to catch my breath, balls in my stomach. She starts laughing and I attempt a glare that probably turns into a stupid looking smile when I realize her top is still pulled down. “I’m so sorry My.” She puts a knee on the edge of the chair between my legs, far enough that I don’t clutch myself or flinch harder. She leans over and puts her cheek to mine, whispers in my ear. “I’ll make it better later, if you’ll let me,” before she pecks my cheek.

She swaggers away, biting the tip of her thumb in a smile as she turns and walks off to the bathroom. When she shuts the door I grab my phone as I cough, and change my flight again, before guilt makes me second guess it.



We manage to make it all the way into the elevator before I notice the calm starting to evaporate from Fee like steam. I stupidly assume it’s about me. “What’s up?” I ask, aiming for casual so she knows she can tell me if she’s freaking out about things, so she knows that I myself am not freaking out about it despite the drumline that’s taken up residence in my chest. She surprises me by stepping my way and wrapping herself around my side.

“Just nervous about my set and the tour. I feel guilty that everything else is so…good. That I want to just go out and have a good time tonight and put it off some more. I normally want to work, you know? I’m distracted and I feel bad that I like it.”

I slide my hand around her shoulders and up, touch her soft cheek while her other one presses into my chest. I don’t know if I should feel good about her being distracted, even though she says she likes it. Because I certainly don’t want to be a mere distraction. I also don’t want her work to suffer, though, so I try not to complicate things further by demanding we put a name to this thing between us and define it. I put on my manager hat for the time being—or at least I try to. These various hats I’ve been wearing all suddenly seem too small.

“We’ll work through it. It’s probably all better than you realize, as usual. But I get it, and I know you’ve been putting extra pressure on yourself. Fun will probably do you some good.” I don’t want to brush it off, want her to know her concerns are valid and that I’ll help, while still making sure she allows herself a break tonight. We always work through it, and she always exceeds every expectation, including her own.





“…I am telling you, the barometric pressure in the atmosphere changed when these women all met in a room. It wasn’t some sloppy girls night or frilly bachelorette party, I’m saying you could taste violence in the air. They went after it all, hard.” Fee has everyone in stitches talking about the PTA night. “They truly didn’t give a shit about anyone’s attention. They were all completely different, with completely different lives, parenting philosophies and struggles. Not all of them were even moms, either. Some were just members of the school administration. And yet, they all needed an escape. I think that’s the only thing those women had in common, actually.” She peers off to the side with a frown, like it’s a new fact she’s absorbing.

“And yet I’ve never found anything more relatable,” Kara says, tossing back a shot.

“Here, here,” Shauna raises her own. “My question is, how did you get involved in this night?” she asks.

Fee looks my way with a shrug. “They wanted the scoop on Meyer. I go to a lot of Hazel’s events and such, so they wanted to know what our story was and if he’d be interested in any of their sisters, or brothers.”

The last time she brought this up comes back to me, along with her explanation to them. Something about telling them she was in an unrequited, bittersweet love… I snort. If only she knew.

I’m not jaded enough to think that her feelings match the depth of my own, even if I know she’s interested in a step further than friendship, now. Even if I’ve had a thought or two cross my mind in the past, there’s never been that hard evidence. And something tells me to stay guarded against thinking she might want more now, outside of this. The umbrella of this whole arrangement is what feels safe, for now…

She jokingly tells them the same thing she told me, but I laugh a little too enthusiastically, this time.

“Hey, let’s FaceTime Hazel before it gets too late?” Fee says to me, and some part of me is grateful that she’s not the least bit hesitant or awkward where Hazel is concerned, though I’m struggling to reconcile the dad in me with the guy that is vividly picturing Fee half naked and grinding her hips on my lap, head falling to the side when sensation took over.