International Player(56)
“I don’t think there’s any need for a but. I rarely chase after a woman. I’m not out just to get laid.”
“I think there’s a but. If you look at what drives you, it’s all about the challenge. You liked to be told you can’t do something and yet find a way to get it done. I mean, Christ, weren’t you dropping to near-certain death earlier today with just some shards of silk attached to your back?”
“It’s called skydiving, and I’m not the first guy to like extreme sports, so shoot me.” I knew I shouldn’t have asked him. If I’d kept my theory to myself, I’d have been able to keep sleeping with Truly.
“But you like the challenge. You get off on the high of having conquered something. In business as well as sport.”
“Agreed. But if that applied to my sex life, wouldn’t I be out fucking every woman that moved? Conquering as many as I could?” My heart sank into my stomach. He was about to put the final nail in Truly’s and my coffin.
“I don’t think you conquer women. I think the women you’re with fit with you. They’re just convenient sex. They don’t seem to matter to you.”
I liked that he wasn’t confirming my theory, but I wasn’t sure I particularly enjoyed the alternative he presented. “I’m not a dickhead. I don’t pretend that it’s serious with them or anything, or that I have feelings for them that I don’t.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m just saying, they’re not integral to your life. Like you don’t seem to share stuff with them or really befriend them, if you know what I mean. The ones I’ve met don’t seem to know you that well.”
That was definitely the difference between all the other women and Truly. Truly knew me. I knew her. We shared stuff. But of course we did, we were friends. Good friends. “Yeah, I think you’re probably right. I always have so much going on that whoever I’m with only has a small part to fill.”
“Honestly, I think you just haven’t met the right girl yet.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Dr. Freud. Insightful.”
“I know it sounds clichéd but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I think when you’re with the right woman, it will be different. You’ll start organizing your life so she’s at the center rather than slotting her in for a quick shag here and there. You’ll want to see her. Want to spend non-naked time with her. She’ll be your best friend.”
Like Truly.
“If friendship is the only criteria, you and I should have started fucking a long time ago.”
“As handsome as you are, my friend, I just don’t have the urge to see you naked. It’s not just friendship. It’s chemistry. When you know, you know. It’s tough for Abigail and me at the moment but it’s just a rough patch. Generally, marriage is pretty great. Getting to hang out with your best friend all the time—I mean, she’s a hormonal mess at the moment, but I love her. I still want to tell her every thought in my head and wake up to her stuffy nose every morning.”
Was that what love was? Wanting to tell someone everything? I felt that way about Truly but that didn’t mean a full-blown relationship with her would be successful. “Yeah, you and Abigail are great together but not everyone gets to have what you have.”
“You just need to be open to finding someone who’s going to be more than convenient sex,” Rob said. “The marriage thing isn’t important—you don’t need a piece of paper. But don’t you want to find someone to build a future with? Share everything with? Don’t you want more than your usual three-month cycle?”
The ground underneath me was shifting, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Every time I left Truly, I couldn’t wait to see her again, and I’d never felt like that about anyone. She was the only one I wanted to share the ins and outs of my day with. She was beautiful, funny, insightful, and challenging. There was nothing like the feeling when I made her laugh or captured her rapt attention with whatever I was saying. She was my favorite person.
I checked the time on my phone. It would be too late to go over to Truly’s this evening smelling of booze, but I couldn’t help but grin at the thought of her bedhead and rumpled t-shirt, the way she’d be warm and heavy with sleep, and how she fit so perfectly against my body. How we’d have slow, intensely perfect sex and then we’d talk about everything and nothing before she fell asleep mid-sentence. I couldn’t think of anything better, and I couldn’t imagine a time I’d want anyone else but her.
Maybe Rob was right. Perhaps I’d just found the right woman in Truly, but how the fuck did I know for sure? How in the hell did I test Rob’s theory without either being told by Truly that she didn’t want anything more than casual sex with me or fucking up with her, getting it wrong, and blowing apart years’ worth of friendships?
Thirty-One
Noah
“I’m downstairs,” Truly said from the other end of the phone. “I just need you to hear me out because I’ve made quite a few changes. It will take twenty minutes, maximum, I promise. And I’ll owe you.” She’d been freaking out about an upcoming presentation for a week, so even though she didn’t give me an explanation, I’d bet money that’s what she was here to talk about.