by Sunniva Dee
He lets out a laugh. Then he rakes a hand through his hair, humor fading. “You sounded worried about her on the phone. How is she? How are you?”
“I’m okay. It’s just that her brain doesn’t take much of a break lately. She’s awake a lot at night, and I’m content when I don’t wake up to a four-o’clock ping on my phone.”
He crosses his arms. It makes me think he’s bracing himself. “Have you ever thought that she might need to be seen by a specialist? That she could have a condition she could get help with?”
“A condition? She’s just a quirky artist. Come on. Is it a condition to want to save the world? That’s what most of her ideas are about.”
“That’s true—most of her ideas. And that is a noble mindset.”
“Oh you’re doing that thing.” I study his expression. It’s mild, understanding, like with Mom when he made her see that she couldn’t just run off to China.
“Cut the crap and spit it out, Ciro.”
“No, you’re right. There’s the cult stuff and a few other things you’ve mentioned, but mostly she just wants to save animals somewhere.”
“Right, but she is better.”
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t received a single ADHD burst of texting in sixteen hours.”
He nods slowly while I realize how pathetic that sounded.
I have my friend back.
He works in the Valley for the next two weeks, and we see each other almost every day. I walk Princess in the morning together with Daisy and Rough. Sometimes I meet Ana and her Chihuahua at the dog park too. She’s a really sweet girl. Ana still assumes that Ciro and I are a couple, and for some reason I don’t want to tell her we’re not. The initial jealousy I felt over her having “worked” with him dissipates too. Maybe the friend zone has something to do with that?
Today, Ana and I end the dog park trip at a Starbucks down the hill from Ciro’s house. Her boyfriend works there, it turns out, and he treats us to breakfast and frappucinos. The dry Valley heat isn’t scorching this early, so we keep the dogs with us at an outside table.
“Did Ciro tell you we have a gig together tomorrow?” she says, licking jam from her exploded Danish. Innocent blues meet mine over her food.
“What?” I inhale cream and cough.
“Oops, I hate that.” She dries her hand on a napkin and hurries to pat my back. “You okay?”
I bob my head quickly, clearing my throat. “Sure, yeah, just... inhaled stuff.”
“I do that all the time. Aaron laughs at me,” she says, glancing fondly at her boyfriend. He tends to hover close, I notice, eyes on his girl.
“So, you’re working together, you said?” I make working sound normal. How do I do that?
“Yeah, over at Lucid. I’m excited—it’s been too long.” She claps her hands. “We shoot the breeze between takes. The last time, the producer told us to shut up, claiming we bickered like siblings. Ha, your BF is hilarious.”
“He sure is.” I suck cool coffee slush through my straw. “So... long job?” I can’t formulate polite questions about this and get the answers I want. Do you enjoy-enjoy it? Does he make you climax?
“Just a few days.” She juts out a pout, and her boyfriend sees it. He haunches next to us and rocks her thigh with a hand.
“What’s up, baby?”
She laughs. “Oh nothing. You know how I get to work with a good friend over the next few days?”
“The guy who helped you out when you first got started, right?”
“Yep, Ciro. I was just telling Savannah it’s only for a few days and I wish it was longer. He’s so nice.”
Her boyfriend forms a relaxed “Ah” and rubs her shoulder.
“You know him?” he asks me.
“Savannah is his girlfriend, so yeah, she knows him,” Ana giggles out.
“Oh cool! Well, Ana has talked a lot about him. Maybe we can get together, the four of us one of these days. Do a double date?”
I nod, speechless. When I don’t stop nodding, Ana nods with me, staring like she’s trying to figure me out.
“Yep, sounds good,” I say once I can muster a calm voice.
Ana breaks into a happy grin. “Yay! How about Friday night? We’re supposed to be done shooting Loins of Fire by then, and we could go out and celebrate, the four of us together? Have you been to The Timber Ranch?”
“Yeah, I love it.”
“Oh man.” The boyfriend moans, shutting his eyes with preempted pleasure. “That place knows how to grill pork tenderloin, I tell you. And they’re not unreasonable pricewise either. Totally livable even on my salary.” He does a discreet head jerk toward the Starbucks building.
“You’re so cute.” Ana peeks around surreptitiously before grabbing his face and kissing him hard on the mouth. “Sorry about the PDA. I just— Gah, I adore him.”
She swats his butt as he walks off. “He’s so good to me.”
Leaning over the table, she looks me right in the eyes. “You know, not everyone is like Aaron and you. Ciro and I are lucky to have found you. There are way too many single performers in our industry, and believe me, that gets freaking old.”
We’re up and loading the dogs into our cars again by the time I’ve found a natural way to dig for more information. “So Aaron doesn’t work with you?”
“Aaron? Oh no.” She laughs like that would be funny. “He’s an engineering student and works at Starbucks on the side.”
I take the leash off Princess and watch her leave Dolly and Ralph behind in the back to occupy the driver’s seat. “That’s cool. How long have you guys been together?”
“We’ll be celebrating two years in exactly”—she looks at her watch—“fifteen days!” She wiggles her hips happily.
“Wow, that’s awesome. And he has always been fine with your job? Never jealous or anything?” There’s dry bird poop on one of my windows. I rub at it with my Starbucks napkin, feigning nonchalance.
“No, he gets it. I mean, he knew when he started dating me. It came up right away because a few of my fans recognized me at the bar where we had our first date. That was pretty funny.”
I risk a glance and see her smile at the memory.
“He worked so hard to look all jaded, like he’d totally dated an adult movie star before. One thing though”—she straightens and hooks a few fingers into her belt loops—“I don’t know about you guys, but Aaron and I’ve decided stuff’s good as long as he’s not there while I film. It might hurt him, and I’d get distracted.”
“But he’s fine with watching your movies? Afterward, I mean?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. Sure, it’s me, his girlfriend and all, but it’d be harder for him to watch me fall in love in a mainstream movie. Those actors end up crushing on each other in real life too because they’re so good at simulating onscreen.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” I don’t know. I’ve never had to ponder these things before. Now, it’s all I can think about—and also, the friend zone sucks.
“What about you guys?”
“Hmm?” I say to gain time.
“Do you watch him shoot?”
“No. We’ve never even discussed it.”
She bobs her head, serious. “Yeah. As I said, I haven’t hung out with Ciro much over the last couple of years, but I remember him going through all the mistakes in the book before. He brought one of his steady girls onset once. We had to interrupt the filming so he could chase after her and try to talk her down. That girl sounded like an emotional rollercoaster anyway though, so good riddance.”
Princess whines from the car, and I roll down the window so I can pet her through it. “What about you?” I ask. “Would you ever date a male porn star?”
“I have, but it was hard because of our conflicting schedules. And the lifestyle, lots of partying in the b
eginning, took a toll on that relationship. I like to go home after work and hang out with friends outside of the biz. That’s just me.”
“Ciro too.”
“I learned it from him, actually. It’s easy to stick to the friends you see day in and day out at work, but it’s not always the best thing to do.”
“Coworker friends and outside friends.” I twist my mouth.
“Yep, exactly. Gotta love a variety in friends. And now Aaron and I have you and Ciro!” She presses her hands together before she leans over to hug me.
I officially have two porn star friends. One of which I hate just being friends with.
22. NEGOTIATIONS
That night, Ciro and I have Mrs. Brandt’s amazing albondiga soup on his terrace. It’s dark, romantic, the candles flicker, and the soft indie-rock he plays in the background makes the night perfect. I want to slink around the table and sit on my friend’s lap. I want to nuzzle against his neck and draw in the scent of him.
Ciro pulls the spoon out of his mouth slowly and deposits in his bowl. Eyes on me, lingering and scorching, he murmurs, “Is the friend zone doing it for you?”
I shut my eyes to hide my emotions. When I open them again, his gaze is calm on me. “I’m not giving up on you, Savannah. I’m just giving you space.”
What do you say to that? There are a thousand invisible threads between us, connecting my body to his and pulling. The way I feel about this man is so big it’s a presence in itself at our table. Of course, of course he senses it.
“About the friend zone...” I stuff half an albondiga into my mouth and chew while I try to suppress my response to him. “There are other possibilities. Like dating. Or casual, you know.”
“Friends with benefits?” he asks so silkily my lower region floods with warmth. “Is that what you want, Savannah, friends but more? Friends plus-plus?”
Fuck, I don’t know. He’s talking to the girl who hails Status Quo. What option will hurt the least? How can I get more of him without feeling used, disrespected—not becoming more obsessed than I am?
He lifts his hands, palms open in the night air. “I’ll do it. You know how I feel about you. I want you, body, mind, and heart. I want as much Savannah as I can have, and it’s okay if that doesn’t include a girlfriend yet.”
Yet.
“I just— Ana Suarez and I have been hanging out lately. I met her at the dog park with Princess, and today I met her boyfriend for the first time. She told me she and you are going to work together the rest of this week.”
He nods slowly, gauging my reaction. I smile. I’m not going to insist that it’s a relaxed smile. “She thinks you’re a cool dude, and she can’t wait to work with you again.”
“She’s a great girl. I love her like a sister.”
“Sister. That sounds bad. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He lifts a shoulder in a one-sided shrug. “We do that sometimes. Play the roles of sisters and brothers.”
“Please, eew. You’re not making any of this easier, Ciro.”
“Sorry. I honestly wish I could shield you. I tried.”
“Right, by lying by omission,” I snap.
“Are we back to that now?”
I shake my head to remember that I’m not that girl anymore. That girl, the girlfriend girl. “No, we’re not.”
“Come here.” Ciro holds out a hand and scoots his chair back, giving me room. Hard thighs spread, inviting me in, and I need it so much I sink in there anyway.
This. Could have been so easy.
Fucking job.
“Don’t beat yourself up, baby girl. Don’t overthink things. If this is what you want, just a hug and a dinner, then that’s what I’ll give you.”
I hate nightmares. Especially of the kind I just woke up from, where you scream and can’t get out of it until your forehead is damp with terror. I plod into the kitchen and pour myself some of Lin’s sweet tea.
Ciro having sex with someone on camera. Me, right there, crying. He looked up at me, smirking, and then he scrunched his eyes shut in pleasure as he rammed into a woman I’d never seen before. I’m having dinner with her next, he mouthed to me. Ah she’s the full package. Body and heart. Lover and girlfriend.
The girl’s face morphed into Ana’s. She smiled and said, “What’re you looking at? You shouldn’t be here. Unless you’re just a friend of his?”
I’m not impulsive, nothing like my mother. It’s why I’m in this situation in the first place. I can’t let go, and I can’t jump both feet in. Yet now, with the dream eating at my insides, I send him a text to the accompaniment of our humming fridge.
I had a nightmare.
He replies immediately. Sometimes I think he only naps when I’m awake next to him. Come sleep here.
He’s on his side. With an arm under his head, he watches me lazily when I wake up. “You were tired.”
I groan. “What time is it?”
“Ten.”
“Oh god, seriously?” My pulse speeds up until I remember that Daisy and Rough have their annual checkup at the vet’s this morning and I’m not supposed to walk them.
“You’re good,” he confirms what I’m realizing too. “Or are you?” A warm hand glides under the sheet and down my spine to my butt. With skilled fingers, he trails down until he finds my heat and massages it lightly. “Sore?”
I puff out a happy breath. “A little. Not too bad.”
“Sorry. I’d missed you,” he murmurs, kissing my head and rolling close.
“I’d missed you too,” I whisper. “Ciro, what are we doing?”
“That’s up to you. I vote all the way.”
“That wasn’t all the way?” I tease.
“You know what I mean.”
That hand down there doesn’t leave me, and I find myself spreading my thighs again for him. I feel better with each circle he makes on me, and my breathing is already turning irregular.
“How do people do it, then? Say I was your girlfriend and you slept with other girls for a living, what would I do?”
His mouth descends on mine, sucking and licking. “All you have to do is love me.”
“Yeah, but would you expect me to be celibate and only with you when you’re sleeping around?”
“I’m not sleeping around.”
“Technically, you are. You’re just not doing it for free. Would you be okay with me sleeping with someone from my job, for instance?”
“Do you like someone at work?”
“No. It’s just an example.”
“Because if you like someone else better than me, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Seriously? That would be imposing?”
He pulls me into a comforting hug. “Listen. I don’t think you understand. If my girlfriend had sex to pay bills, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But if she gets a crush on some other guy and sleeps with him, then that means he’s engaged more than her body. That’s when I’d feel betrayed. And if I were a douche and slept with someone outside of work, I’d expect my girlfriend to raise hell too. I’d never do that.”
“Ah you’re exasperating. Basically, I can’t sleep around and you can.”
“Would you want to?”
I’m upset. He’s not. His aqua eyes are the calmest waters, holding my stormy ones captive.
“No! Gah, no, that’s gross. I can’t just sleep with someone for the heck of it. Sex isn’t just sex to me. But I’d want to know that the rules were the same for both of us. I mean, what if your lifestyle totally corrupted me and I wanted to have sex with other people too? Hey, how about if one of your porn star friends wanted to hang out and I said yes to a quick round in the hay?”
“Again, let me turn that around: would you want to sleep with that friend of mine?” His lashes are so thick. And this discussion doesn’t rock his cool. Does he not car
e about me after all?
“As I said, not at the moment, but who knows?” I mutter. “What if I decide sex is a game and want to play it in the future? Like, ‘Ciro’s home late tonight. I’m horny. Want to hang out?’”
I sound ridiculous, but I have a point to make.
His head slides back to the pillow as his mouth twists a little. “That’s a lot to take in. One of the reasons why I fell for you was how genuine and regular-person you are. If you changed that much... Hmm.”
“Aha, you’d stop loving me!”
“Of course not. I just have to think this through. Obviously, you’d have made a big adjustment before that. You’d have worked hard to understand my side, how things have to be for me to keep my livelihood. This would be you asking me to make a sacrifice too, one I don’t believe in.”
His hand leaves my body to rub two fingers against his forehead. “I would have to understand it. I’d have to trust that if you wanted to sleep with my friend while I was gone, you’d do it for the pleasure only and not because you needed his love and support.”
His gaze flicks back to me, and he squints out a small smile. “Yeah, it would be hard. But I’d do it as long as we weren’t hiding anything from each other.”
“You’re so crazy,” I say, then go on to mimic my future voicemail for him. “Hi, honey, I’ll be back late. Just playing with Bobo first. Can you get the pot roast ready if you’re home before me? It’s in the slow cooker. Have it ready by eight, please.”
He snorts. “Bobo? You’re into clowns now? Hmm, I can work with that. You won’t need your imaginary friend by the time I’m done with you. Hell, I’ll get a big old red nose and everything.”
“No!” I laugh when he starts tickling me. Then I squirm when he unwraps me completely and makes my laughter drown in desire.
I don’t know how I feel about this. Am I one of those girls who are never happy? Ciro shrugged when I said I wanted it all except the GF label.
“I don’t get you anymore.” Frieda stuffs yet another Twizzler into her mouth. “Seriously, I don’t. You know how long I’ve known you.”