揑 know y抋ll have hooked up already.?Shauna prods with a brow raise, waiting for me to confirm or deny.
揂h梟o, no, don抰 tell me, just let me picture it.?Kara closes her eyes, gives a silent pump of her fist. 揊or female comics everywhere.?
揥hat do you mean??I ask with another laugh.
揑 mean that female comedians never get the hot, silent type?definitely not the ones who are funny, too. Male comics though?they can get whoever they want. They can be ugly and only moderately funny, and they抣l still score models, singers, reality stars. Any male fanboys of ours tend to be inherently creepy. Finding a man, let alone a very successful man, as a female comic, is a herculean task.?
揤alid point.?
揘o, really, Farley. I dated a clown for six months when I was starting out.?Kara declares with a hard look.
揌e wasn抰 even a good clown, either!?Shauna yells and we all bust up. I抦 tempted to ask for her to define what even determines a good one, but refrain as Kara pushes her face into her palms.
揝eriously, though. Just?be careful. Meyer seems like a good guy, and I know he抯 been out of the stand-up game for a bit, anyway, so there抯 no need for him to be threatened or anything. But there抯 a reason they say all funny men are insecure, right? Don抰 be too shocked if he starts distancing himself the more successful you become.?Kara says, putting her hand on mine.
I slip it away with a frown. 揑f anything, he抯 the reason I抳e even gotten this far. And he抎 never ice me out of his life. We抳e got too many other?ties.?I say confidently, 揟he only thing I could see him distancing himself from is the media attention, and he抯 already throwing himself into that for me.?
揥ell, that only tends to increase with this kind of success, babe. It抯 not the same as being an actress or a singer or anything, but it抯 there.?Shauna adds.
As if to highlight her point, a woman taps her shoulder and asks us all for a picture just as Meyer returns with the drinks.
揥ill you take one of the four of us??she then asks me, pushing her phone my direction. I look up in confusion, it clicking when I see the looks of sympathy on all three of their faces.
揙f course!?I shout brightly. I nail the smile to my face while I take it.
揧ou抮e gonna want one with Farley Jones in it, too. Trust me,?Kara says, yanking a guy over to take one of all of us. I appreciate the vote of confidence, even if it抯 embarrassing. Even if Meyer抯 stroke on my arm feels like it抯 trying to be reassuring.
Of course she knows their faces. I抦 still more new?newer than all of them. It抯 not shocking and it shouldn抰 bother me. It shouldn抰. It doesn抰.
The remainder of the night is everything I could抳e hoped for. Tyson meets us at another bar, where he and Meyer hit it off, slipping into manly conversations as the three of us slide onto the dance floor.
It抯 pushing three AM by the time we make it back to the hotel. I flop onto the cloud of the bed and rapidly kick my shoes off, exhausted and exhilarated.
When I prop myself onto my elbows, Meyer has his bag on his shoulder and a tired smirk on his face. 揥ait?where are you going??I ask, wishing I could sound less needy.
揑 had to get a spot on the five AM flight. So, I gotta just head to the airport now. If I lay down, I抣l crash.?
揥hy didn抰 you say anything? I would抳e come back way earlier.?I stand up and approach him, already forlorn.
揃ecause we were having a good night,?he brushes a strand of hair from my face with a sigh. 揧our flight抯 later today, yeah??
揘ot until four.?Too far away.
揙kay, good. Rest, then. Call me when you land??
揗eyer棓 I don抰 know what I want to say, though, without sounding truly desperate or dumb. Thanks for forgoing sleep and a night with your daughter so that you could support me and my career and also give me an orgasm? Jesus, what the hell am I doing?
揌ey?what抯 going on in your head??he asks my expression, eyes flicking to my forehead and back like he can read the thoughts there.
揑抦 just?sorry you stayed away an extra night and lost sleep,?is all I can bring myself to say.
揧ou抮e sorry??he frowns, clears his throat a little. 揇o you桰 mean梐re you sorry about earlier??His tone is limned in careful restraint.
揋od梟o, not at all. I抦 only sorry I didn抰梒ouldn抰梤eturn the favor.?My cheeks heat, not nearly as confident as I was in those moments after.
揊ee,?he waits until I look at him. 揘o more apologies, please. Especially since I抳e been thinking about that, imagining it, for a very long time.?
揧ou have??
He nods. Once. His hand comes up to cup my jaw and he drags his thumb across each of my lips. 揕et抯 just say it was more satisfying than you realize,?and then he leans down and kisses me. 揅all me later.?
He leaves the room and I watch him through the peephole, waiting until he抯 cleared the corner and out of sight before I turn around and slide down the door, melting in a puddle of bliss.
21
NOW
FARLEY
I somehow manage a few hours of sleep, even as I抦 counting down the hours and minutes until it抯 time to get back home.
I fling a little wink at my own reflection on my way out of the room, 揚roud of you, girl.?Proud that I have refrained from texting Meyer all day, proud of my killer impression of an 揑抳e-got-my-shit-together-and-don抰-lose-my-cool-over-a-man?woman. No matter how fucking sexy, sweet, intelligent, or impressive that man is. No matter that he is the best friend I抳e ever had and I can抰 wait to know how his flight was and who annoyed him on the plane and what he and Hazel had for breakfast. I wonder if he worries about Haze as a teenager, wonder what she would think of us together, if it would change things at all.
Aaannd, there it is. The anxiety. The worry that pulls me under for a second, a wave crashing over me.
A feeling that immediately synchronizes with the realization that Meyer himself has not texted, or called me at all.
The thoughts submerge me further.
By the time I pull into the airport, I抳e worked myself into a knotted wreck, and decide to do my best impression of a mature adult with conflict resolution skills. I call him.
It goes right to voicemail.
I try again and the result is the same.
Try again when I get to my gate.
Storm clouds gather in my mind, hovering over the churning ocean of my thoughts.
It抯 astonishing how quickly my brain can go from congratulating myself, proud of how I owned up to some of my feelings, even celebrating how that panned out, to borderline loathing and disgust in the same day.
He absolutely regrets hooking up. It was a result of too much forced affection, too much build up, so of course he抎 gotten confused. That抯 the only reason he thought he wanted to come back. Watching you come on his lap probably forced reality back into his brain and now he抯 going to want some space. You抮e no seductress, Farley Jones. That抯 probably the impression you could pull off the least. You have farted in front of this man梐n accident, but still. Not a lady toot, either, it was a 揵russel sprouts are my food hyper-fixation at the moment?kind of rip. You are gross. Remember what your father always told you? Men don抰 want girls with foul mouths and bad manners. It抯 unbecoming. Men don抰 find your cavalier attitude attractive, let alone sexy. Men don抰 want a dirty, unorganized woman. Men don抰 want a woman who wants to be lazy for an entire day, then immediately wants to take on twelve projects, plus a hike and a new hobby on the following.
Men don抰 want a woman who spends a day in bed after having her soul ripped out by a book, or who gets choked up over a song. Stop being so dramatic. Men don抰 want women who fill every silence with a joke or a 搘elp?just because they can抰 sit still or quiet for five minutes with people they can barely tolerate.
Meyer has been subjected to all of that, every side of the warped bouncy ball that I am. More than I抳e allowed any other man, really. And even to those other men who I抳e dated?the ones who抳e seen the bits and pieces?to them I抳e always been charming in my quirkiness, in my crassness. I抦 a good times gal, the friend, the jester. Not the kind of woman they fantasize about, who gets under their skin.
How could I expect his feelings to be like mine? I can抰 expect that of him. I need to give him space, to respect it when he inevitably tells me he抯 changed his mind about this and that it抯 gotten out of hand. This is why I had reservations.
Look at yourself! This man is doing this for your career, and yesterday only happened because there抯 been too much mixing. Maybe it was the football. The collective competitive energy caused a surge in testosterone and you happened to be there, clinging to him.