Page 37 of Venus
“And what did he do when you told him the kiss made you uncomfortable?”
“He apologized, but—”
Callie snaps to get me to shut up again. “Wakeup, girl. What else could you want from that man? Space? He’s giving it to you right now.”
I don’t answer.
“You’re not in the wrong for being scared. I get it. You have your reasons. But Carter…he’s different. I see it, and I know you see it even if you won’t admit it to yourself. The guy is crazy about you and he’s not going to stop feeling that way. And feeling something back isn’t going to kill you, V. It might be scary, and yeah, maybe it doesn’t work out in the end. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth trying. You deserve your own happily ever after.”
I pull out my phone again, open the messaging app, and stare at the message from this morning.
Carter: I’m really sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to overstep. Hope work goes okay today.
I think about it, long and hard. His message isn’t clingy or loaded. It’s…thoughtful and careful. He knew he needed to say something, but still gave me the room I needed to work out these confusing feelings.
I still don’t reply. Not because I don’t want to, but because when I do, I think Carter deserves to know where we stand, and I’m still trying to figure that out myself.
Chapter 20 | Vulcan
I’m halfway through a protein bar and a Monster energy drink. Boots off, hogging the entire bunkroom couch while the low murmur of an old documentary plays in the background. The station is quiet, with the always-lingering smell of coffee, sweat, and soot that never quite leaves no matter how often we mop the floors.
My phone vibrates, and I jolt upright when I see the name on the screen.
Venus: You busy tonight?
Just like that. No emoji. No excited punctuation. An uncomplicated question with a very complicated answer.
Me: Sorry. On shift until tomorrow morning.
Venus: Tomorrow night, then?
I stare at the screen for much longer than needed, just trying to form rational thoughts. I know what she wants. She’s made it very clear it’s the only thing she’s willing to take from me, despite me being so ready to give her everything.
Me: What time?
Venus: 10?
Me: Okay.
I drop my phone into my lap and rub my face with both hands, stretching the skin under my eyes, hoping that when my skin pops back into place it will knock some sense into me.
It doesn’t.
A few weeks ago, her texts asking to meet up would have had me cleaning the apartment, giving my face a fresh shave, maybe even stocking the fridge with her favorite snacks. Maybe even shaving my nuts.
Do you know how uncomfortable shaving your nuts is?
Now, though? Her texts just sit uneasy in my gut. Sits heavy on my chest like a weight that’s waiting to crush me flat into the ground.
The thing we had before, it worked when it was new. It worked when I didn’t care, or at least tried to tell myself I didn’t.
Now? It just hurts. Like an inevitable breakup, and we were never together in the first place. Just a dull and constant ache that I can’t remedy with ibuprofen.
Venus has always been clear with me. She didn’t want strings and she didn’t want pressure. She just wanted a good time. For a while, I was happy to give her that, but it’s become too obvious that it’s no longer enough for me.
I want her laugh to echo off the walls in the morning and her snoring to fill my ears every night. I want her to tell me how her day went in the morning after a shift while she showers and I brush my teeth.
I don’t want her to leave after a good night. I want her to stay.
