by L.H. Cosway
My mouth fell slowly open. This definitely wasn’t what I’d been expecting, though really, I don’t know what I’d expected. “Oh.”
“I don’t condemn anyone who does look at it, but I simply choose not to.”
“That’s sort of”—I struggled for the right words for several seconds, finally deciding on—“noble.”
“For a pervert.”
I swiped him on the shoulder. “Seriously! Stop calling yourself that! And don’t you dare listen to what those vapid gossip journalists write. You’re one of the nicest men I’ve ever met.”
His eyes seemed to dim at my compliment. “You think so?”
“Of course I do. You’ve been an absolute gentleman to me, even if you do like to spend your personal time browsing women’s lingerie,” I teased.
That got a surprised, deep chuckle out of him, and it warmed the heart I hadn’t even realized needed warmth. “By the way,” I went on. “You do realize there are ethical porn sites out there, right?”
Will’s brow furrowed. “Ethical porn?”
I nodded. “Yes, that’s what I try to watch, though I admit not as often as I should. It takes a little bit of research to find it, but it’s definitely available. There are independent performers who actually enjoy what they do. There are also couples who like to experiment and upload their videos to the internet. They liked to be watched.”
He looked genuinely perplexed now. “I…” he trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly feel stupid that I didn’t know that.”
I waved him away. “Don’t feel stupid. Not many people know about it. It’s one of those things you have to actively go out and search for, sort of like good indie music.” I chuckled. “You also typically have to pay for it, because when it’s free somebody’s usually being exploited, so I don’t mind paying.”
“You watch it?” His voice sounded somehow strained, but his gaze was steady.
I grinned. “Sure. Like I said, I’m trying more and more to only watch the independent stuff. I usually find some good videos beforehand, then when the mood takes me, I have a whole playlist ready.”
“When the mood takes you,” Will repeated my words back at me. He got a far-off look in his eye, and I wondered if he was uncomfortable talking about porn, which, given the fact I’d sort of sprung this conversation on him, was probably true. I needed to start vetting my topics before I blurted them out. Unfortunately, my curiosity often got the better of me.
Getting the sense that Will didn’t really want to discuss this anymore, I stood. “Well, I should get back to bed. I hope your dad feels better soon.”
Before he had a chance to reply, I was inside my room. I crawled into bed and yanked the covers around me tight, but I was too tense to go back to sleep. My realization that I liked Will in a non-platonic, romantic, hearts and flowers sort of way had me feeling all kinds of conflicted.
This Saturday I had to go on that double date and I really, really didn’t want to. Plus, I was traveling to Australia with him next week. I’d be taking myself and all my gushy, girl feelings on a plane to another continent. There’d be no classes to distract me, no Rocky to play with, no interactions at the vet clinic. Just Will to fixate on.
Will with his watchful eyes and understated charm.
Will with his kind gestures and quiet strength.
Will with his handsome smile and perfect body.
I couldn’t wait, but I was also dreading it because we’d be spending every day together, which was going to be a torturous lesson in self-restraint. But I was determined not to embarrass myself, which meant I was doomed to fail.
But what if . . .
I blinked into the darkness, an idea forming. A brilliant, brilliant idea.
What if I just decided not to like him? He certainly didn’t like me that way. What if I decided that I wouldn’t allow myself to go down that road? What if I made a sharp left turn and took my crazy brain train down a different track?
I get to decide.
Could it be that easy? Could I just decide that I would only have friendly feelings for him? Did feelings work that way?
“Huh,” I said to the dark, and then whispered, “My friend and roomie, William Moore, and nothing more.”
The idea didn’t feel precisely right, but it did feel inspired, and it did feel safe. I figured the key to my success was to act indifferent to him as a man. In fact, I would pretend he wasn’t a man. I would pretend he was a woman.
“That might work!”
Rocky stirred and I winced, realizing I’d spoken much louder than I’d intended. Snuggling deep under my covers, I chanted to myself, “My female friend and roomie, William Moore, and nothing more.”
Maybe if I repeated it enough, I would believe it.
Ten
@Socialmedialite to @WillthebrickhouseMoore: Hey handsome! Have fun on your date tonight and tell @BroderickAdams I say hi.
@WillthebrickhouseMoore to @Socialmedialite: Hi, @BroderickAdams. There, done.
@Socialmedialite to @WillthebrickhouseMoore: You’re worse than @RonanFitz
