I choked. “Pardon?”
“Let him touch you. I’m not saying—you know—let him do whatever he wants or anything. I’m just saying, if he touches you, and if you like it, you should let him. And also, you shouldn’t interrupt the touching with discussions of consent and expectations or whatever.”
I looked at her askance. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. You should just—you know—give a guy the opportunity to read you, see if he can figure out what you like without giving him printed directions. And a map. And a contract to sign in triplicate. See if you can enjoy not knowing what will happen.”
I was already shaking my head before she finished, planning to tell her how ludicrous of an idea this was.
First, no.
Second, also no.
Third, what happens when Lisa arrives?
And fourth, an encounter without explicitly communicating expectations, hard limits, and goals? What was the point? The data wouldn’t be generalizable!
Except . . . the times Abram has touched you without asking, you’ve liked it. Mucho.
My pulse jumped. Just the thought of all that—all that touching me without . . . I rubbed my chest, at a hot tightness there, and tore my stare away to scowl at the wall. Gabby’s suggestion was on repeat in my head, and it wasn’t just anxiety or fear I was feeling.
“You’re thinking about it!” Gabby jumped up from the bed and crossed to the desk, standing directly in front of me.
“Gabby, you’re mentally disturbed.”
“Don’t deny it, you’re definitely thinking about it. You should make the Mona-moves on him.”
I gave that suggestion a firm mental shove. “And what happens when Lisa gets back? Would she pick up where I left off with Abram? Pretend to be me pretending to be her? Gross and cosmically wrong on so many levels.”
She sighed impatiently. “You think too much. She’ll just call things off.”
“Just like that?” I snapped my fingers. “And he won’t care?”
Gabby shrugged. “I mean, probably not? Look at him. He’s a hot commodity in this town. If he wants some, he doesn’t usually have to work too hard to get it. He’s a goodtime guy.”
I shook my head lightly, squinting at her, a flare of something uncomfortable in my chest. “A goodtime guy? What does that mean?”
“It means he’s experienced, and he’ll show you a good time, but you don’t have to worry about him getting clingy.” When I continued to stare at her she huffed and lifted her eyes to the ceiling, exasperated. “Let me put it this way: I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend, but he’s always surrounded by girls.”
“And you know for a fact that he has relations with all these girls?”
“You sound like a lawyer, Mona. This isn’t a trial.” She studied her nails. “Guys like him always have—”
“Guys like him? Guys like what?”
“You know, insanely hot, talented, always single and keeping his options open. He’s not going to care when Lisa calls it off.”
I could feel myself making my about-to-sneeze face. What Gabby was saying was diametrically opposed to the Abram I was coming to know, especially after talking to his mother and sister. He just didn’t seem like that kind of person—
Wait. What kind of person? You mean someone like you?
I flinched, frowning, not liking this thought. And it wouldn’t be the same, would it? Yes, I’d had relations with several men without any intention of making any of those men my long-term partner, but that was all in the interest of testing a hypothesis. Totally different.
Okay. Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night.
“Why are you making that angry face?” Gabby lifted an eyebrow, her gaze moving over my features. “Don’t get mad at me for Abram being easy. I’m trying to do you a favor here. Get in there and use him to have a good time.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I took a deep breath, irrationally offended on Abram’s behalf at him being labeled a ‘goodtime guy.’ That wasn’t Abram. It just wasn’t. Don’t ask me why, but I knew this was an unfair estimation of his character.
Anyway! I couldn’t think about this now. Therefore, I ignored this discordant assertion.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter, because nothing is going to happen between us. I can’t ignore that Abram is in a position of authority over me, over Lisa.” I said this mostly as a reminder to myself. After our donut encounter this morning, I couldn’t and shouldn’t forget that nothing was ever going to happen between us. He and I weren’t even friends. Lisa’s well-being was his responsibility. “He’s been tasked with ensuring my safety. How inappropriate would it be for me to, as you say, make moves on him? I would never put him in that position.”
“Oh, come on. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind being put in any position with you if—”
I interrupted her mid-eye roll. “No. I think he’s already been through enough. Lisa did enough damage last year, don’t you think?”
“It’s not like being with either of you would be a hardship.” Her hands fell to her legs, smacking her thighs as she completed the eye roll. “See? This is what I’m talking about. Why can’t you understand how beautiful you are? Anyone, including Abram, would be lucky to—”
“He’s not an object! Even if he’s been with the entire female half of Chicago, he’s still not an object!” I whispered harshly, straightening from the desk, causing her to rock back on her heels. “People are so much more than what they look like, what is wrong with you? He’s not disposable. He’s not here to use and amuse. He is more than ‘like, super hot.’ He is a person, with thoughts and feelings and a family who loves him, who he also loves. He is funny and sweet, and irritating and witty, and doesn’t like to show his smile. He writes music and sleeps at crazy hours, he eats pizza cold—who does that? So gross—and knows too much about whales, and steals donuts, and should really invest in a new razor . . .”
I stopped there because Gabby was giving me a sideways look, the rest of her face frozen, the fire of suspicion behind her eyes.
“What?” I asked sharply. “What is it?”
“I don’t get it. You’ve slept with like, seven guys, right? And never wanted a relationship with any of them.”
“We didn’t sleep together, we had sex as a means to determine specific aims. And that doesn’t mean I’ve treated them like objects.” I hadn’t. I really hadn’t. It had been a mutually beneficial arrangement, where we’d both used each other’s bodies to answer—You know what? Never mind.
“You . . .” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re into Abram,” she said and nodded, slowly at first, but then faster after a second. “Like, way, way, waaaaay into him.”
I pinched my nose with my thumb and forefinger again, closing my eyes. “Just because I recognize that Abram isn’t an object, doesn’t mean I’m into him.”
But, for the record, she was totally right. I was into him. Way, way, waaaaay into him. And now I had a headache.
“Oh girl, you know what? I take back my suggestion. Avoid him. You don’t want this goodtime guy as your first crush. He’s the caviar of goodtime guys. Avoid him at all costs.”
Peeking at her, I frowned, because she was contradicting herself and her expression looked so entirely earnest. “You make no sense. A minute ago, you’re telling me to use him for his body. But now that you think I like him, you’re telling me to run the other way?”
“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes large and sympathetic. “Lisa will be back in a few days, and Abram can never ever know that you impersonated her this week. He will totally flip out and tell the world about it. His sister is a journalist, you know? It’ll be everywhere.”