“Oh, sure. It’s super fun not having someone to kiss, or hold, or share good and bad times with. It would suck so bad to have someone who loved you during the holiday season, or someone who wanted to make you smile every day. Sounds awful.”
Emery snorted. “See, you have it all wrong. Those things you just said, those fantasies, they’re just that. Your vision of what a relationship should or would be is warped from what it actually is.”
“Mm,” I mused. “Sounds like the pessimistic view of a guy who’d rather have sex with no strings attached, to me.”
“Well, yeah,” he agreed and I laughed, Kalo popping up from where she was hiding behind my seat at the sound. She seemed happy we were talking, too, and she hung her head between us. “That’s part of it. You’re telling me having mind-blowing sex with someone new, someone exciting, whenever you want doesn’t appeal to you?”
My cheeks flushed a deeper shade and I cranked the dial on the air conditioning, giving the wind an extra boost. “I think I’d rather have someone consistent, someone who loved me when he touched me.”
Emery stared at me long enough for me to glance his way and then regret that I did, because he was looking at me like he was a scientist and I was the gunk under the microscope.
“You’re a virgin.”
I scoffed, grabbing my drink and pulling the soda through the straw without breathing for a solid thirty seconds, shaking my head all the while.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he added when I finally put the drink down, both hands finding the steering wheel. My knuckles turned white, and suddenly it was me who didn’t want to talk.
“Just because I’ve never had sex before doesn’t mean I’m naive or stupid. I know how relationships work, and I know casual sex must have its perks but… I don’t know. I don’t want to be single forever.”
“Well, you should be,” he said. “Maybe not forever, if you want kids or whatever, I get that. But you should spend time alone. Travel alone. Live alone. You should try new things, figure out if you like them not just because your friend or boyfriend likes them, but because you genuinely do. And you should have casual sex,” he added. “With as many people as you can before you settle down.”
“That sounds unsafe.”
“Condoms and birth control, my Little Penny.”
I scrunched my nose at the reference to my nickname earned at the casino the night before. “You really don’t ever want to fall in love? You don’t want to know what it’s like to have someone care about you so much it literally drives them crazy, and they would do anything to make you happy, and you’d do the same for them?”
“Do you know a single couple in your life who’s actually like that?” he probed, and Kalo tilted her head, as if she was ticking through people she knew just like I was. “Not in movies or books, but actual people. Your parents? Their relationship beautiful and wonderful?”
I swallowed. “Hardly.”
“Okay. What about your grandparents? Aunts, uncles? Teachers? Anyone in your town, any of your friends?”
I thought through the short list, especially since I’d never had a relationship with my dad’s parents and my mom’s parents had both passed away when I was young. Lily’s parents had been happily married once, or so I thought, until they got divorced. They were still cordial with each other, but as her mom had put it, the love had died. Tammy left her ex because he hit her, and Ray was still in love with a woman who never loved him back.
Emery seemed to watch my wheels turning, and though he didn’t smile, I felt the smugness rolling off of him from across the console.
“Okay, well, maybe relationships aren’t supposed to be perfect. But you don’t believe in love at all? Like, not even a little bit?”
He shrugged. “Love is real, of course. I know it exists. I’ve loved a lot of people.”
I looked over at him then, a tinge of something touching the pit of my stomach. Jealousy, maybe? But I wasn’t sure if it was of him, that he’d been in love, or of those who’d been on the receiving end of his.
“But most of it is chemical, Cooper. Lust and endorphins and all that crashing every logical thought for the first six months or so. Then reality sets in, and you realize you actually hate living with that person. Or they want you to change all of a sudden. The I love you just the way you are turns into I’d love you more if you got a stable job and a five-year plan.” Emery paused. “It’s almost impossible to find someone who really loves you — the real you — flaws and all. So no, I’m not sure I believe in a one true love or a soul mate. I do believe in loving as many people as you can, and experiencing them in all the ways you can before the chemistry runs out.”
“Is that code for have a ton of sex?”
“Among other things.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “So, is that your plan, then? Stay single forever?”
Emery was quiet a long moment before he turned toward the road again, flipping his journal open. “Maybe. But forever isn’t always as long as you think it will be.”
He started writing again, reaching forward for the volume dial and cranking it up until an old Tom Petty song filled the space between us. I guessed the conversation was over then, and Kalo licked my arm before settling back into her place behind my seat, leaving just my thoughts to entertain me as we drove toward the Texas border.
We hit a bad storm right after we crossed the state line. I’d pulled over, getting the top up just before it started raining buckets. Traffic was awful, visibility was poor, and Emery and I were both so tense by the time we made it out that we were ready to stop for the day.
So, even though it was less than six hours from where we’d started that morning, we called Houston home for the night, checking into a modest hotel in Midtown. I took Kalo for a long walk, fighting back yawns that started hitting me hard after the storm. When I made it back to our room, Emery was already buried under the covers.
“I’m taking a nap. Want to grab dinner in a bit?”
I finally let myself yawn, unhooking Kalo’s leash and digging through my bag for her food and water bowl. “A nap sounds perfect. Should I set an alarm?”
“I’ve got one set for an hour and a half. The concierge said there’s a concert in the park nearby tonight and there are supposed to be a bunch of food trucks.”
“That sounds fun.”
Emery didn’t respond, rolling over toward the wall and pulling his comforter over his head.
His soft snores were the only sound in the room until the air conditioning kicked on with a hum, and I flopped down onto the other bed, eyelids heavy. Kalo was clearly ready for a nap, too. She finished her food quickly, jumping up onto the foot of my bed and curling up into a ball of fluff before I’d even taken my shoes off. I reached for the lamp on the table between our beds but my hand froze in place when I noticed Emery’s journal laying in front of the phone.
Don’t do it.
But already my hand was reaching for it, my eyes flicking to where Emery was bundled under the sheets, the same leg sticking out like it had that morning.
Slowly, and as quietly as I could, I slipped my hand under the worn leather, wrapping my fingers over the bind and pulling the journal to my lap. My breaths were slow motion, heart in my ears as I glanced at Emery again before opening to a page near the beginning.