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Just like with any role, you had to give a piece of yourself to make it real, but how was I supposed to stop that piece from being my soul?
Arlo’s lips became more pliable as he melted into me, and just once, his tongue stroked back. Then he gave a little frustrated whine and eased back a couple inches. “You’re not playing fair,” he tutted.
“You’re right. I need to be punished.”
He laughed lightly. “I’m going to have to come up with some sort of incentive for you to follow those rules, or we’re both doomed.” I hoped the punishment was spanking.
Without another word, Arlo got us walking again. Carson’s apartment was two blocks over, and we now had only ten minutes to get there. “So… was this our first date?” he asked with a sly grin, slipping his hand into mine again.
I chuckled, already making plans. “Oh, I think I can do better than this. What are you doing on Friday?”
7
Arlo
First thing Wednesday morning, I rolled out of bed and got dressed quickly. The sun was barely up, and it seemed like just a couple hours ago I’d heard Cass come home from work. I was still getting adjusted to this new schedule, and my body protested the early rise, but there was something I needed to do.
And time was of the essence.
The air was still crisp, the grass dew-drenched, as I hustled out to my car in the lot behind my apartment building. The chill helped to clear my head a little of the morning brain fog, but coffee would go one step better.
I made a quick stop at Crave Coffee, loading up not just on the sweet, sweet, lifegiving caffeine, but also a massive box of assorted donuts, pastries, and muffins. It was a part of my routine every time I went to visit Gran. This morning, though, it seemed that routine was making a quick exit on stage left.
The barista took my order at the counter as usual, but his eyes kept flitting back up to my face, his polite smile slowly taking on a strained and confused look. “Is something the matter?” I finally asked after I had been holding my credit card for too long, waiting to pay.
“Oh! No, no… no… Except, are you that guy?” he asked.
“What guy?” Even as I said it, the first tendrils of cold dread began to coalesce into a solid boulder in my gut.
The barista kind of rolled his eyes, then held up a finger and disappeared into the back, before coming back with—yep, that was today’s edition of Chatter Magazine. Fuck. “This guy,” he said, flipping it to page three and holding it up to show me. Uh-huh, that was me all right.
“Nope,” I said instead. “I don’t see the resemblance, personally. So, how about those donuts.”
He gave me a skeptical look but shoved the magazine under the counter and got back to work boxing up my pastries. The whole time, I swore I could feel people watching me from the tables behind me with a mixture of curiosity and judgment, my skin crawling with this itchy, burning feeling, but when I turned to look, everyone seemed to be minding their own business.
I took my coffee and donuts and jogged back to my car, keeping my head down. Logically, I had known people would recognize me, but I hadn’t spent much time considering how that would make me feel. Maybe I had hoped it would be kinda cool, but instead, it felt more like I had a target on my back all of a sudden. Would people hate me for “stealing” their favorite Hollywood bachelor? They would judge my long hair, my earring, my cheap department store fashion. I would be put under a microscope and would no doubt be found lacking.
It felt like my whole body was sagging under the weight of crushing doubt by the time I pulled up in front of Golden Years Retirement Center. I needed to tell Gran about my relationship with Max before she saw the Chatter article. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the deal I’d made with him, that it was all a lie. She thought I was still working at the mechanic. If she knew I had taken a job at a fetish club to pay for her care, she would never forgive herself. Posing for the cameras as someone’s fake fiancé? She wholeheartedly believed in true love, and this went against every fiber of her being. Guilt nagged at me, a constant tap-tap-tap, like water torture. Yet another aspect of this whole thing that I hadn’t fully thought through.
As the glass doors slid open for me, Drew, one of the center’s staff, looked up from the desk at the front and smiled, offering me a wave. “Hey! I didn’t think we’d see you until Sunday.” Sunday was my usual day.
“Yeah, I had a special reason for visiting today. Is she in her room?” I asked.
“Are you kidding? Sarah is the life of the party around here. She’s in the multipurpose room. Come on, I’ll take you down.” He eyed the box in my hands. “Do you want me to carry that for you?”
“Because it’s so heavy?” I laughed, but he just shrugged.
“You can’t blame me for trying. If you put them out on the table, there’ll be a feeding frenzy, like a scene out of a nature documentary, and when they’re through, there’ll be nothing left but crumbs.”
We paused on the room’s threshold, and I popped open the box. “It’ll be our little secret.”
Though his eyes lingered on the jelly donut, he took a blueberry muffin instead, leaving the jelly for someone else, because that was the kind of man he was. “Thank you,” he said, taking a bite and sighing in bliss. “Oh, and congratulations on your engagement,” he mumbled through a mouthful, then he walked away like he hadn’t just dropped that bomb, leaving me frozen.
It took me a long moment to collect myself before I could force my limbs to work again. With a stiff gait, I walked through to the center of the room and plopped down the box of goodies. I could hear the squeak of walker wheels as the seniors collectively turned. Drew was right, it was just like being in the middle of a pack of predators. “Enjoy!” I shouted, snatching up my gran’s favorite, a cherry and cream cheese danish.
While everyone was distracted fighting over the jelly donut, I made my way over to where Gran was sitting. She’d seen me, but she very purposely turned her wheelchair away from me to look out the window.
“Hey, what’s with the cold shoulder?” I asked, dragging a chair over to sit next to her.