Page 67 of What I'm Looking For

“Sort of.” She rolls off me to face the ceiling. “At you as Bertram. The way you were—he was—to Helena. And Diana. It kind of brought up some bad stuff that happened with my college boyfriend.”

I run a finger down her arm. “But… you know I’m acting, right?”

“Of course. In my head.” She crosses her arms so they cover her face. “But you weresoconvincing. And there were so many similarities to what happened with me and Jonathan. Jessica even looks like the girl he slept with the day after we had a fight about whose career was more important. Even though I knew what was coming, I just—I couldn’t watch it anymore.” She turns my way, her face in shadow. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m kind of proud that I’d been that believable. But I also feel bad that I hurt her. But it wasn’tmehurting her.

Although from her perspective, that’s maybe a little less clear?

When she doesn’t say anything else, I roll to face her. “I would never do anything to hurt you.” I take her hand. “At least on purpose. But if I do, you have to let me know, okay?”

“Yeah.” She doesn’t sound terribly convincing.

I sneak my other arm under her, shift to my back and pull her into my side. “You have to know that when I’m acting, I aim to make what I’m doing truthful and real—but it’s only a little piece of me that I’ve put into this particular character’s reality and then built up into a whole other human from there. The inside/out thing, remember?” I press her hand into my chest. “It’s not the me that is here in real life, right now. I mean, if I played a serial killer, you wouldn’t believe that I was really a murderer, would you?”

She snuggles in, tucking my hand with hers under her chin. “No, but that’s just so far away from reality. But you as a guy who could hurt someone because she was in the way of you getting what you want? In your career? That is alittlemore possible.” She sounds smaller than usual. “Not that I think you would do that. But… I don’t know.” Her forehead presses into my armpit, making me glad I showered before coming over. “It’s stupid.”

I kiss the top of her head. “It’s not stupid.”

I’m not sure what else to say. Will I inevitably hurt her? Because if push comes to shove, I’d pick my career over her. I hope she’d do the same.

Her gaze moves to the window and she slides her hand out of mine to smooth the covers over her belly. “I guess stupid is the wrong word. Embarrassing is probably better.”

My eyes are getting used to the dim light. Her brow’s furrowed and her lips are pressed together. “Embarrassed because your ex was a dick and screwed around on you?” She shrugs. I push her hip lightly. “Come on. He’s a major dipstick dickhead hoser.” A tiny laugh escapes from her mouth. “Where is this guy?” Pushing up to my knees, I draw a mimed sword. “You want me to challenge him to a duel to defend your honor? I could totally take him.”

She rewards me with a real smile. “He’s in Indiana, so that’s okay. Thanks for the offer, though. Very nineteenth-century of you.”

I sheathe my pretend sword, then touch my chest, kiss my fist and knock on my head as I recite, “‘Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, blood and revenge are hammering in my head.’”

“My hero.” She swoons quite convincingly.

I take advantage of her prone form and crawl over her. “‘Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em.’” I do a little thrusting of my own on the last three words. My tone is playful, but my dick’s getting serious. It’s ready to find a home between her legs.

She presses up into me, takes my hand and squeezes it over her own breast. “Wasn’t that Winston Churchill?”

She moans when I slide my hand under her sleep shirt to continue what she started.

I nuzzle her hair out of the way to kiss her neck. “Nope,Twelfth Night. Malvolio.”

She tosses her pajamas across the room. “Well, I guess you’d better get to thrusting then.”

I whip the covers out of the way and get rid of my clothes. “‘My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven on by the flesh.’” I kiss my way down her bared body, pausing to catch her eye. “Your flesh, that is.”

Chapter17

BEEP. Sunday, 5:35 p.m.

Hi! Just wanted to thank you for taking me to the Great Blue Hill this morning. What a view. I never even knew that park was there. I can’t believe I didn’t know that’s where WGBH got its name! The motorcycle ride there and back was fun too. Sorry I screamed in your ear when we went over that bump. Anyway, I wanted to say have a good show. Or break a leg? Is that what you all say? But don’t actually break a leg. Um. See you soon.

BEEP. Monday, 6:32 p.m.

Hi, it’s me. I’m running a little late here at work, but I’ll be home by eight o’clock at the latest. Just let yourself in. Oh, and you know I only have like one pot and one pan, right? But I’m looking forward to dinner!

BEEP. Monday, 9:30 p.m.

Kate, this is Deb. We love you and all, but can you tell Will he needs to bring back the colander and pots he took from our kitchen? You guys should come over here sometime. We miss him. And his cooking.

BEEP. Tuesday, 7:14 p.m.

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