Page 92 of For the Cameras
He doesn’t know what you’re really like.
Don’t let yourself feel whatever that makes you want to feel, because it’s all going to crumble in front of you.
I puffed out a hollow laugh, breaking eye contact with him and crossing over toward his bed. I was a little lightheaded, and I sat down on the edge of the mattress.
I glanced over toward the dresser by the doorway and caught sight of something I hadn’t noticed before: a bag of caramel apple lollipops. The exact brand I loved and had specifically told Adam about, before he even knew who I was online. The kind that he’d bought just for me, sucking on in the video he sentonlyto me.
I couldn’t process it. I couldn’t process anything, right now, other than the increasing feeling of my heart pounding in my chest.
“Get a taste of what it’s like to fuck a guy and now you want to tell him you’re falling for him?” I joked, already knowing it wasn’t going to land. But I didn’t know what else to say. “I know my ass is good, but you don’t have to do that.”
To my surprise, Adam actually smiled at my joke. He seemed unbothered by the fact that I was practically melting down in front of him right now. He was typically the more anxious one of the two of us, but right now he was calm as a placid lake.
Not running away from me.
Not wigged out by the strange way I was acting.
“You’re funny, but no,” he finally said, shifting and looking out the balcony doors toward the pine trees that lined his backyard. “It’s not just about how good your ass is. Although it is hot as hell, and I definitely do want to fuck you again.”
“Now we’re talking,” I said, swallowing.
I could always joke about sex. Another comfort zone of mine.
As long as he didn’t get all serious on me again.
He turned my way, looking happier and more sure of himself than I’d ever seen him look before.
“I want to be your boyfriend,” he said.
I snorted a laugh, looking down at the floor. “Adam, can we just set up for a video? I know it’s summer, but the light won’t last forever.”
“Would you try, with me?” he continued, blowing past what I’d just said. “Try to date me? Actually date me?”
“That’s a very cute thing to ask, but I know it’s not real,” I protested.
“It’s real,” he said, still calm.
He came over and sat down on the edge of the mattress right next to me. Suddenly his eyes were up close again, and the power of being so close to him wasn’t something I could just ignore.
I stood up too quickly, feeling lightheaded. I sat back down on the end of the bed.
“I don’t know if you understand why I haven’t dated anyone in many years,” I told him. “But I can promise you that you wouldn’t enjoy dating me.”
My chest suddenly felt like it had an anvil sitting on top of it.
It was the weight of years and years of experiences. Years of feeling—knowing—that I really had been too intense for just about everyone I dated. Years of being rejected, criticized, and told that I just needed to chill out.
“What don’t you think I’d enjoy?” he asked, taking me as seriously as ever.
Because of course Adam took me seriously. He was so deeplygood,in a way I’d never quite encountered before.
I met his eyes, summoning strength.
“Before I stopped dating, I was told by multiple partners that I… needed to spend more time alone,” I admitted. “That I needed to be single. To find myself, whatever the hell that meant.”
“So you did that?”
I nodded. “I did. I realized they were right. When I was in relationships, I lost myself. I stopped dyeing my hair for one guy who hated it. I ate eggplant parmesan every week for one guy, because it was his favorite meal, even though I fucking hate eggplant with the passion of a thousand suns.”