Page 49 of Ambiguous
“Squee!”
The waiter drops off a napkin-covered bread basket along with a ceramic pot of butter. Em and I each take a roll, and I rip into mine, a yeasty scent escaping along with some steam.
“Can I tell you something I’m scared of?”
“Of course.”
“So, I don’t need love.”
“Agree to disagree. But go on.”
“What if what I’m feeling is a fanboy crush?”
“No,” Em says firmly. “I have the fangirl crush. You’ve never fanboyed over anyone in your life. He kissed you. Right?”
“Right. But what does a kiss mean, anyway?” I realize I’m staring off into space and focus back on Emily.
“A kiss can mean a lot. Especially when it’s from him to you. Although that raises another question. He wanted to kiss you in private, but do you think he’d be willing to do it in public? That could drastically shift his image.”
I wrinkle my nose. “With the way he dresses, a lot of people already think he’s gay or pan.”
“Confirming it is something different.”
“I guess you have a point.”
“I always have a point.” She pauses. “Nothing’s ever guaranteed, but I don’t think you’re a passing fancy. So I’m going to be excited for you and hope if I can’t have JH, I can live vicariously through you. If this is something you really want, then I’m going to push you. Because you could be very happy with him. I hope he finishes his album fast so you can have his babies.”
I laugh. Because it’s either that or choke out a sob. “I don’t want his babies. Or any babies. I’m trying to figure out how to make it to work tomorrow knowing that I kissed the talent.”
“I think you mean a talented kisser.”
“Ha ha. It’s going to be awkward, because I can’t lie for shit and I’m going to be all guilty-faced.”
“Don’t be. You’re allowed to be attracted to someone.”
“Not him.”
“Why not him? I mean, yes, I know the ethical reasons, so okay, bide your time until he’s done. But after—”
“Assuming no one finds out—”
“You’re not going to get disbarred for one kiss. It’s not like you’re in a relationship with him.” She eyes me. “Even if you wish you were. Hell, I’d say a million people wish they were in a relationship with JH, some of them lawyers, but they’re not getting disbarred.”
I snort. “My situation may be a wee bit different from theirs, and I don’t want to go that close to the moral line. Kissing but no sex feels like I’m playing games. I devote so much of my professional life to dealing with technicalities. I don’t want to justify my personal life with one.”
CHAPTER19
Jules
Loren leaves me alone for a few days and then stops by. They commandeer the comfy armchair in the corner of my studio and survey my disheveled hair, ratty tracksuit bottoms, and three-day scruff. “Jules, how are you?”
Which means, “How are you coming along with the album?”
But I have a surprise. I grin. “About ready to call the band to work out arrangements.”
They blink at me in surprise, taking in the stacks of notes on every flat surface—a pile for every song I’ve written so far. “Wow.”
I hand them a bottle of water, sit down across from them, pull a guitar out, and strum a chord. “Yeah, well. Two-month deadline. Also, I’ve had this great streak of inspiration.”
