Page 45 of The Love Playbook

I know who I am. I know what I want. And I know what I’m capable of. And I’m not capable of being the type of person that Jackson could fall in love with, regardless of what he may have started feeling. I’m too impetuous and esoteric andweird. Not nerdy goofy cute weird. Like,that chick is weird, kind of weird. I know and accept this about myself. I even like that my interests and philosophies are different from most people’s. It gives me a unique perspective.

But Jackson with his sock drawer organizer and love of spreadsheets … he needs someone like that. Organized. Predictable. Normal.

Someone distinctly not me.

It’s normal for him to have feelings for the first girl to give him a blowjob. The first girl he went down on and gave an orgasm to. And if things had gone according to plan, I would’ve been a few other firsts for him too.

But it’s for the best for this to end now if that’s what he wants. If he’s already so wrapped up in his feelings, unable to separate his emotions from the activities, then better to end it now before it’s gotten too far out of control and we’re both really hurt.

Sure, I’m a little sad. Obviously he isn’t feeling super great right now either. But it’s too early for either of us to be too deeply hurt.

* * *

After meditation and a shower, I’m lounging on my bed idly holding one of my favorite crystals and reading a book when my phone buzzes.

Brows drawn together, I reach for my phone, curious who could be texting me. My roommates have been home for hours, and while sometimes they’re lazy or unsure if it’s safe to interrupt whatever I’m doing, I talked to Ellie twenty minutes ago and she knows I’m just reading. This late, it’s not my mom.

To my surprise, I have a text from Jackson.

Jackson: Sorry for overreacting earlier. You’re right that limiting ourselves to once a week is probably for the best. See you on Wednesday.

My eyebrows climb my forehead as I read the text. Then I read it again a couple more times just to be sure I’m not hallucinating, that it says exactly what I read the first time.

I firmly ignore the swoop of elation that leaves me feeling buzzy and light. I’m not allowed to have feelings for him at all, remember? Besides, it’s just because I don’t enjoy leaving projects unfinished, and ending things with him now when all we’ve done is kissing and oral is definitely leaving things unfinished. So the excitement is knowing that my project is back on. That’s all.

My thumbs hover over the screen for a long moment while I think of a suitable response.

Me: No apologies needed. I’m sorry I didn’t make things more clear at the beginning. You’re sure you’re okay with continuing with the understanding that while we’re friends, and I hope to remain friends even after our sessions have concluded, we’re not starting a romantic relationship?

Given today’s response, it’s important to me that we’re very clearly on the same page with no room for ambiguity.

The three dots appear and disappear a few times before his answer finally comes through.

Jackson: Yes

That’s all. Just that one word.

It feels like a let down after what seemed like a potentially long response. But it’s the response I want, right? I want to finish our project, and I want him to be on the same page—namely that what we’re doing won’t affect our friendship afterward and there’s no expectation of more than friendship in the long term.

It’s exactly what I want.

But somehow it manages to reverse all the progress I made on working through my earlier feelings tonight. And I’m back to feeling antsy and out of sorts. Except this time, I can’t put my finger on why.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jackson

“Dude! Who Pigged me?”

Raucous laughter erupts in the locker room as Lomax, one of the freshman defensive tackles, brandishes Piggy above his head, standing on the bench wearing only a towel and glaring around the room.

“This is the third time this season!” he protests, provoking more laughter. “You guys suck.”

“Awww, don’t be mad, Lomax,” says Liam. “Maybe don’t make it so easy to slip something into your stuff? Be more observant? Don’t take so long in the shower?”

“Don’t make such a big deal out of it every time and you won’t get targeted so much,” I offer from my spot the next bench over as I stand, pulling my shorts up.

Lomax throws a glare my way as he hops down, his towel flapping enough to give a peep show to a few unlucky guys sitting in the wrong spot. “Was it you?” He points Piggy at me, shaking him around to emphasize his accusation.

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