Crossing

by Stacey Wallace Benefiel

  My gut doesn’t agree, but Liam seems to have a lot more faith in it than I ever did.

  I step out of my pumps and put his sweats on, cinching the waist. “Pinup from the waist up,” I joke.

  He smiles at me and kisses me on the forehead. “C’mon Bettie.” Liam takes my hand.

  I look over my shoulder, glancing back toward the closet. A red bra strap is sticking out underneath the door.

  “Ready?” he asks, his tone firm.

  My eyes meet his. I expect to see avoidance, guile, and dishonesty. Instead I see fear and vulnerability.

  It breaks my heart.

  “Sure.”

  Chapter Twelve

  It should be totally awkward standing around in my underwear next to the beautiful Ursula while Liam pulls costumes for us, but I barely even think about comparing myself to her – she’s turning out to be one of the coolest people ever and is a brilliant actor. Also, she treats Liam like a brother.

  India, on the other hand, continues to make me feel like a sumo wrestler. I am tolerating her for the sake of theatrical harmony, but standing five feet away from her in my skivvies is giving me a major case of anxiety.

  Liam hands me an evening gown with a draped neckline and tiny silver and rose-colored sequin flowers all over it. “I saw this in a consignment shop and thought it would really work well for your character. I hope it fits. I had to guess.” And then under his breath, “But I do have a pretty good idea about the shape of your body.” He winks at me.

  I undo the zipper and step into the dress, being careful as I pull it over my hips.

  He hands a dress to Ursula, almost as pretty as mine. “This one was in storage, way in the back with a bunch of period tuxedoes.”

  Ursula takes the dress and slips it over her head. It fits perfectly.

  Liam gives her a thumbs up and fixes a tag with Ursula’s name on it over the top of the dress’s hanger. “Storage is such a mess,” he says wistfully. “I can’t wait to have some time to organize it.”

  Ursula and I laugh.

  “Oh, I get it,” India drawls, nodding.

  “Get what?” I ask, turning so Liam can help me with my zipper.

  India stands there, that hand of hers on her unclothed hip, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re his…cover.”

  “Huh?” The three of us say at the same time. The zipper sticks halfway up my back.

  She rolls her eyes. “Liam gets to fend off the unwanted advances of the ladies by appearing taken and you get the envy and respect for having ‘bagged’ someone not on your level.”

  I will never forgive her for actually using air quotes while insulting me, but can’t fault her for being a believer in the levels theory.

  “Wow, India, you could not be more wrong or out of line,” Liam says, shaking his head. “Dani’s my for real girlfriend. I for real have sex with her all the time.”

  That last part isn’t completely true and he knows it. Why is he fronting? Yeah, he is busy and yeah, we still have our moments, but nothing like that first night. A lot of what happens, happens to me and not exactly with me. I try not to think about it, but I need to admit to myself that the thought that Liam is using me as some sort of cover has crossed my mind, too. I don’t think he’s gay – he would have had to be a particularly good porn actor to perform like he does – but I’d come to the conclusion maybe he’d taken the safe choice after all. I was a girl who wasn’t expecting much and he’d given me more than I’d ever thought I deserved.

  My other thought is that I’m horrible in bed and he’s trying to stick around until the term is over before gently letting me down. I’m sure it isn’t exactly a chore for him to bed me once a week, but maybe he’s stopped having sexy thoughts about me now that he’s realized he’s done most of the work.

  A month into things, and I still hadn’t gone down on him or got him off in some way. He always makes it about me, which is great, but not what I necessarily want. He can make himself feel good any time, so what does he need me for?

  “You’re such an anorexic twat, India,” Ursula says, foisting her dress at Liam and putting her hands on her own shapely, unclothed hips, ready to throw down.

  Liam and I exchange a wide-eyed look. Maybe he likes this. Half nekkid cat fight has to be every man’s dream, right?

  India holds her hands up, like, whatever. “I see Liam and Dani together as friends,” India says, as if that’s not the most backhanded compliment ever. As if we’re not in the room. “Their personalities fit, but I just don’t see the chemistry, that’s all.”

  “Good thing we don’t need your approval, then,” Liam says, taking a brown shapeless servant’s uniform off of another hanger and tossing it at India. “Try this on and get out of here.”

  Yeah! I can’t make my mouth move to defend myself.

  Ursula gets dressed, thinking the episode is over, I’m sure, and grabs her stuff. “Come get me in the green room,” she glares at India, “if you need me.”

  India waits until my protector is out of earshot before continuing on. “I’m not the only one that thinks this way, just so you know. There’s all sorts of speculation about the nature of your relationship. Of course, I also don’t know what goes on in your bedroom and maybe that makes all the difference.” She blatantly rakes her eyes over Liam’s body and then gives me a smug look. “I’m a gigantic bitch. Sorry if I offended you.”

  Liam’s blocking me from her in an instant, like he’s expecting me to go ballistic. But I just don’t have it in me. I shrug. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  He tilts my head up and looks into my eyes. “First choice or second?” he whispers.

  “Second.”

  “What the fuck are you going on about?” India says, taking her dress off.

  I watch the fabric seamlessly flowing over her body, over her flat stomach and slightly rounded hips. She looks at Liam and smiles. He’s watching her now too, probably realizing what he’s missing. I need to get out of this room and this dress immediately. I’d been making progress, thinking I was doing so well… I turn, my dress open in the back, the zipper unable to budge across my shoulders.

  “Liam, can you help me out of this?” I ask, my voice steady, even though everything inside of me is on the verge of crumbling.

  “Of course.” It takes a second, but he gets it unzipped. “I can fix the dress, Dani. You’ll look beautiful.”

  “Whatever.” I pick up my clothes off the worktable and get dressed, not bothering to acknowledge India when she leaves the shop.

  “What a bitch, huh?” he says, lining up the gowns on the rack.

  I zip my fleece. All that cool weather and drizzle I’d wanted had finally arrived.

  “Will I see you later?” I ask, knowing what his answer will be.

  Not tonight. I’m swamped. Soon, okay?

  He shakes his head. “Not tonight, babe. I am swamped. Soon, I promise, okay?”

  “Sure.” I walk over and kiss his cheek, hugging the side of his body. Taking whatever I can get, while I have the chance.

  X

  Elizabeth is lying on the couch watching TV when I get home, and my heart lightens. “Long time, no hang out,” I say.

  She twists her head around to look at me. “I know! That’s okay, though. You and Liam have a new thing going on.” She sighs. “The beginning of a relationship is so all consuming and yummy.”

  I dump my stuff off on the chair, go over to the couch, and lift up her legs so I can sit down. Instead of demanding a foot rub, Elizabeth goes into the kitchen and brings out wine glasses and half-full bottle of cabernet.

  She makes a pouty face at me. “You look sad.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out. “That’s because I am. Something’s going on with Liam, something big that he’s not telling me and I’m…afraid to confront him about it because I don’t want him to break up with me.”

  Elizabeth pours a glass of wine and hands it to me. “Do you have any idea what it is
?”

  I take a healthy slug of wine. “I think I might be bad in bed.”

  “Nonsense.” She scoots back into the corner of the couch and tucks her feet up underneath her.

  “Well, if this stage in a relationship is supposed to be so all consuming and yummy, then how come I’ve got so much all consuming and not so much yummy?” I hit the wine again.

  “Maybe he just wants to take things slow.”

  “We did pretty much go from zero to couple in under a minute.” I shrug. “That could be all this is. But Liam himself told me I needed to trust my gut more often, and my gut is telling me something is off.”

  Elizabeth wrinkles her forehead. “How is the sex when you do have it?”

  I scoot back into the other corner of the couch and pull my knees up to my chest. “Amazing. Nice. He doesn’t just get off as quickly as he can and then leave me hanging.”

  “As it should be.” She grabs the bottle off the table, tips it forward and refills my wine glass. “Does he look you in the eyes?”

  “Yeah.” I rub my temples. “I mean, he’s great. That’s why I think it’s me. I haven’t participated much.”

  She blanches at that. I’m the one who taught Elizabeth how to give the perfect blowjob, on a banana, of course. “Why not?” She finishes her wine and pours herself another.

  “He’s kind of insisted on doing everything. I’ve tried to, y’know, start things up and he doesn’t respond.”

  She chews at her grape-stained bottom lip. “You mean, like he has to be in control or he’s not in the mood?”

  “Yes!” I sit up on my knees. “That’s exactly it. If he decides that he wants to have sex, then we do because I’m always willing. But if I want it, it seems like he doesn’t. It’s not like he’s not affectionate with me, though. He kisses me and holds my hand. “

  “I don’t know what to tell you.” She shrugs. “It sounds like it’s his issue.”

  My gut sends a message to my conscience, telling her she’s full of shit. “Well, there is one thing.”

  Elizabeth smiles. “You probably should’ve led with that.”

  “My whole body comparison thing reared its ugly head at rehearsal tonight. He could be getting tired of reassuring me. I know Chase used to get fed up with my complaining.” I sink back down into my Cookie Monster blue cocoon.

  She directs her gaze at me. “Dani, everyone who knows you wishes you’d shut up about your hotness level theories and who is supposed to belong with who and how you’re destined to only take the scraps that men give you. Maybe all Liam needs is a night off from your low self-esteem. Maybe you need to romance him a little and demand he let you get him off for once.”

  I run my finger around the edge of my glass. “That sounds like a great idea, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin with the whole ‘romancing a guy’ thing.”

  “Have you made any plans for your next night off?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “We haven’t even talked about it, but we do have the night off from the show on Thursday. It’s David’s girlfriend’s birthday and I think he’s going to propose to her, so since he needed the night off, we get it too.”

  “Sweet. Well, I just talked to Alex today and I’m going to drive home Wednesday night and spend a long weekend with him, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.” Elizabeth dumps the rest of the wine into my glass. She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Why don’t you invite Liam over for dinner and cook him something amazing, like maybe your chicken and dumplings? Ooh, and those cherry tartlets that you make with the chocolate drizzle. Get him drunk on wine, give him a killer massage and a blowjob, and then don’t sleep with him. See if that piques his interest. I’m willing to bet that does the trick.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The week between my talk with Elizabeth and my romantic evening with Liam drags on. India treats me like she never said anything rude to me or tried to show my boyfriend what he’s missing and Liam grows increasingly grouchier. His kisses are quick and he forgets to walk me to class a couple of times. He’s distracted, and not talking to me. I’m hurting because one of the things I like best about us is that we can talk about anything. Still, I keep telling myself, he’s coming over for dinner and says he’s looking forward to some home cooking. I plan on giving him that and more.

  I stop by the coffee shop to grab a cup before I run home and start making the tartlets. I spent the previous night after rehearsal getting everything prepped.

  As I’m leaving, I see Liam across the street talking to Ariana. He’s angry, his fists balled, but he’s not yelling. She keeps shaking her head and stepping toward him, putting her hands on his shoulders, his cheek, touching her forehead to his. He doesn’t pull away from her, but he doesn’t embrace her.

  I don’t know what to do. On one hand this is definitely between them and doesn’t involve me. But on the other, if Liam is this upset, he might want me to comfort him instead of Ari, who is the source of his anger.

  Then again, maybe she isn’t, or he wouldn’t let her put her hands him. Goddamned history and my lack of experience. Are we ever going to be like that? Is he ever going to let me touch him even though he’s mad at me? I want that closeness so badly.

  I make the decision to let him be and not intervene. I look Liam’s way once as I leave and they’re still deeply engaged in whatever is going on between them. Ari’s crying now and Liam looks like he’s about to. Damn it.

  I drag my phone out of my backpack and punch in Liam’s number. The photo of us standing next to the cast list comes up. He was right. His phone takes much better pictures than mine.

  It rings four times and then goes to voicemail.

  “Hey,” I say. “I was just coming out of the coffee shop and saw you and Ariana arguing. I hope everything’s okay and I hope I’m not overstepping by asking you about it. I’ll see you tonight. Call me or text if you want to talk before then. I’m here for you.”

  I’m walking up the front steps to the duplex when my phone beeps – a text from Liam.

  Everything is okay. Ari did something stupid. I’ll tell you about it later.

  X

  I put the finishing touches on the meal, pour two glasses of mid-priced cab into the two wine glasses that Elizabeth and I own, crank up the Justin Timberlake, and light a couple candles. Only so much you can do to make a Seventies-era duplex with a Cookie Monster covered couch romantic.

  There’s a knock on the door. I look through the peephole. Liam is right on time and he went to the trouble to dress nice for me in a black turtleneck sweater. I open the door, hoping he approves of my outfit. I’m wearing the black stocking /garter/pencil skirt combo from the night we got together with a draped neck gray sweater. I’ve braided and piled my hair on top of my head, made my eyes a smoky gray to match my outfit, and done my mouth up with my brand new tube of Perfect Red lipstick.

  “Hi,” I say, giving him a once over. He’s got on charcoal gray pants and is holding a bouquet of blush-colored roses in his hand. “You look nice. We could be in a catalogue spread, as matchy-matchy as we are.”

  He grins and walks through the door, handing me the flowers and going in for a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hey. Sit down, I’ll bring you some wine.”

  I go into the kitchen and put the flowers in a funky old metal pitcher I got at a yard sale in September for ten cents. The color of the roses looks nice against the cloudy silver. I put them in the middle of the miniscule table and move one of the candles to the windowsill above the sink.

  I fetch the wine and hand Liam a glass. He’s taken the plaid wool throw off the back of the couch and laid it out to sit on.

  “Yeah,” I say. “The only problem with neon blue fake fur is it sticks to everything.”

  Liam takes the glass of wine and pats the couch next to him. “I figured we’d keep our clothes lint free until we don’t need them anymore.”

  I like where his thoughts are heading. Of course, he’
s instigating things again, but at least he’s in a frisky mood.

  So, I go and ruin the mood. “What stupid thing did Ari do that had you so riled this afternoon?”

  He tenses up and takes a huge gulp of wine. “She told one of her cousins a secret that wasn’t hers to tell when she was drunk last weekend, and her cousin told everyone she knows in Boise, apparently, including my little sister, who called me and wanted to know…” He shakes his head. “Mind if I pour myself some more wine?”

  I take his glass. “I’ll get it for you.”

  I go into the kitchen and decide to just grab the bottle. The secret Ariana told has to be about Liam, and he’s on the verge of letting me in, I can feel it.

  Sitting down next to him on the couch, I hold both of our glasses in one hand and fill them with wine from the bottle in the other.

  He takes his glass from me. “Dinner smells good. Thanks for slaving away at it. I’ve been surviving on Kind bars and deep-fried bar crap. It will be good to eat something made of actual food.”

  So, maybe he isn’t going to tell me. Do I dare pry again? I do. “Finish your story. I really want to hear it. What did your sister call you about?”

  He takes another big drink of wine. “Forget it, like I said, the whole thing was stupid.” He leans forward and sets his glass down on the coffee table, then moves toward me and slips his hand up my skirt. “Let’s have dessert first,” he whispers into my ear.

  As much as my body wants to give in to him, my brain and my heart are determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. “Liam, just tell me what the secret was. Is it about you?”

  He pulls his face away from mine and looks me in the eyes. His stare is anguished.