The True Love Experiment

When the doorbell rings, everyone freezes.

“Here we go,” I say, pushing away from the counter. I stop in the doorway to the hall and turn to face them. “Please, don’t stare at us the whole time. It’s already going to be weird.”

“Of course not,” Nat says.

“Or ask her a ton of questions,” I add. “On top of everything else, she’s probably quite nervous.”

“You look quite nervous,” Ash says.

“Piss off,” I say under my breath.

As I walk through the house, I give myself a little pep talk. I am thirty-three years old. I’m producing a show with an enormous budget that’s about to premiere on national television. I’ve overseen entire productions under some of the worst conditions in the most inhospitable places in the world. I’ve helped keep an actual human child alive for over ten years and not lost or seriously mangled her once. I can do this. I can manage my feelings for Felicity Chen.

I open the door and immediately know I’m fooling myself. She’s beautiful—she’s always beautiful—but I register that the world is divided into people who know what it’s like to make love to Fizzy Chen, and people who don’t. I’m now one of the lucky, broken ones. I know how her skin tastes and what it’s like to kiss her until she melts. I know her sounds and the way her eyes drift closed right before she comes. I don’t know how to go about the rest of my life pretending I don’t want her with a force that rivals the pull of the tides.

Last night we fixed our clothes and she walked me to her door. We stood facing each other, just like this. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks still flushed from exertion. I leaned forward and what was supposed to be a simple goodbye peck melted into something warm and greedy. Time tipped sideways. I immediately wanted her again, right there against the wall or maybe kneeling over her on the couch, her legs wrapped tight around my waist. I hadn’t left yet and we’d already made a mess of things, what did it matter?

But it does matter. There’s no room in my life—personally, or professionally—for a fling. And Fizzy has never indicated that this is anything more than that. Hell, I wouldn’t even be involved in this show if Blaine hadn’t forced me, and he couldn’t have forced me if I didn’t absolutely need this job. Having feelings for Fizzy doesn’t change any of that.

With my hand cradling her jaw, I’d dragged my lips up her neck, placed a kiss to her cheek. I’d straightened to meet her eyes and saw the same want and confusion reflected back at me. Neither of us knew what to say, so we hadn’t said anything. Instead, I’d walked out to my car knowing that if I didn’t leave right then, I wouldn’t leave at all.

“Hi,” I say now, taking a step back and motioning for her to come inside.

“Hi.” Her hair is in a sleek ponytail, her cropped pants and sweater both black but feet framed in bright orange heels that bring her a few inches closer to eye level. She’s wearing a slash of dark eyeliner, her lips a screeching, house-on-fire red. I want to see that color smeared all over my skin.

I’m glad we’re alone because the air pulses with shimmering want.

“Should we get the awkward out of the way,” I ask, “or drag it out for peak discomfort later?”

She lets out a small, relieved laugh. “Let’s take pity on everyone and kick the elephant out of the room now.” She pulls in a steadying breath. “I’ve been practicing this.”

“By all means, let me have it.”

“Last night was one hell of a way to break a dry spell.” She’s close enough that anyone in a nearby room wouldn’t be able to hear, and her eyes are molten and intimate. “But it’s also really complicated. I think we both get that.”

I nod. She’s giving me this out and I’m going to take it. I’m going to take it and run with it and do my best to ignore how naive we’re being and dig my head deep into the sand. “Absolutely.”

“We’ll just have to drive everyone nuts with all this unresolved sexual tension.” She grins. “I’ve written about it, I’m an expert, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure I know how those books end.”

“Then let’s agree this is a buddy comedy, not a romance.” With a little wink and a squeeze to my forearm, she steps in past me. I follow the way her eyes move over everything and wonder what she sees. It’s a nice place, with tall ceilings, weathered wood beams, a good-sized yard for the area, and a great kitchen. I bought it about three years ago, and while I’ve never had much of a need or a want to really decorate it, I’ve tried to make it feel like a home for Stevie.

Fizzy stops in front of a snapshot of twenty-three-year-old me holding a newborn Stevie. “Oh, this is unfair,” she says, picking up the frame.

I look exhausted, young, and stupidly, naively happy. I had no idea what I was doing, or what it even meant to be a dad, but I instantly loved that little girl in a way I hadn’t known was possible. There were already cracks showing between Nat and me, but I figured we could make it work. I’d find a way.

“Nobody told me that Fizzy was here!” Stevie races around the corner in her socks and wraps her arms around Fizzy in a tight hug.

“It just happened!” Fizzy says. “And I have something for you.” Stevie steps away long enough for Fizzy to reach into her purse and pull out a small package with Wonderland’s logo emblazoned in iridescent lettering. Stevie tears into it and I realize it’s the only concert DVD she doesn’t have.

“Thank you!” She squeezes her eyes closed and hugs Fizzy again.

“Make sure to watch it with your dad. He’s got some dance moves to work on before the next tour.” Fizzy meets my eyes over Stevie’s head and gives me a teasing wink.

“All right, that’s enough. Come on.” I pick Stevie up and swing her over my shoulder, trying to tamp down the confusing mix of anticipation and dread I feel at the prospect of the next few hours. Stevie squeals and I glance back to where Fizzy is giggling and following behind us. “We’ll be starting soon, and there are some people I want you to meet.”



* * *



The minute Fizzy is in the kitchen, it’s clear Nat and Ella can’t help themselves. Nat gushes about Fizzy’s books, how she’s read every single one, and how she can’t wait for what’s next. She sweetly, obliviously asks Fizzy when that might be, and to her credit, Fizzy gives an answer that she’s clearly used many times before and that nicely balances “it’s going to be a while” with “I’m so excited about it.” Nat tells her all about walking in on me that first day mid–Fizzy googling before Ella interrupts to breathlessly explain that she isn’t a big reader but knows everything about every dating show ever and cannot wait for the show to start tonight. Ash mostly stands off to the side smiling at the countertop and trying not to make direct eye contact.