“I asked Mom to medicate him or something, but she refused.”
“It’d be such a good wedding gift, though!” I said. I guess it violated some kind of medical oath or something for her mom to lightly sedate him in time for the ceremony. Plus, probably whatever her dad ended up doing would make for funny stories. Later. Way later.
“Is the sappy shit over yet?” Oscar asked. “I want more chocolate. Maybe with a spoon.”
“Absolutely not,” I said. “Germs. We cannot all get sick right before the wedding.”
Ronnie shoved Oscar as he was going for the chocolate. “Did you hear what Declan just said? We are not getting sick before my wedding, mister.”
Mason tilted his head to lean against mine. “Wasn’t it nice a minute ago when they were all cute and remembering their beautiful friendship?”
I laughed. “Yeah, thank god that’s over. What’re we watching next?”
We stayed up past midnight, despite all of us bitching that we were way too old to stay up that late. When we’d lived in the dorms I thought sleepovers couldn’t get better than sleeping bags and a twenty-four pack of whatever beer we could afford. I’m really happy I was wrong. Adulthood sleepovers rock.
Chapter Eighteen
Since our Saturday date was a decoy date, it felt like the pressure was off. I put together a good salad for lunch and Sidney came over a while after they got off work. I’d already been watching a documentary, so I caught them up a little on Viking travels and we settled in.
The Jenkinses had been back briefly, then gone away again. I didn’t know that much about my landlords except that they were married (or at least used the same name), they traveled a lot, and they loved their dog. Toby’s an Australian shepherd. That’s all I know about his pedigree. He’s also a total cuddle monster, and he really does need company. He’s sad when I leave for work in the morning and I always turn on Animal Planet as per my instructions.
I vaguely had the impression that Mrs. Jenkins was an expert in...something medical? And that Mr. Jenkins did...computer-based work?
And they were really nice to me. When they assured me I could use the downstairs of the main house, they meant it. They had a cleaner come once a week whether they were there or not.
We took Toby for a walk after lunch. It was...weirdly normal-seeming to have Sidney there for regular things like feeding the dog and taking him for his walk. I kept thinking I wasn’t being a very good host, but it just...didn’t feel strange to have them in my space. (Or to pick up dog poop with a plastic bag while they stood by, continuing to talk about an archaeology podcast they’d recently heard, which we’d started discussing when watching the Viking show and kept going back to.)
I showed them my little apartment in the backyard after we got back from our walk. Which...took some time. I gave a very thorough tour. Of my tiny room. And, uh, my bed. And also there was the shower.
When we were dressed and available for dog company again, I made a pot of decaf in the main house (because Sidney still had to go home and go to bed at a decent hour so they could get up at three in the morning for work). We ended up on the couch with our legs pleasantly tangled, and Toby snoring contentedly at our feet.
“I’ve been thinking about The Love Study,” Sidney said.
“Okay.”
“I think we might consider ending it. Officially.”
I blinked. “Oh. Wow, I hadn’t even thought about that. But what about your sponsor?”
They did one of their understanding nods. “I considered that. The money has been nice, for sure. Or being able to count on it has been nice. But I think...the show has done what we designed it to do. A microcosm of the dating world, an example of a few potential outcomes.” Their thumb rubbed rhythmically up and down the side of the mug. “And selfishly I kind of want us dating to be for us. Not for the channel. Not for the money, or the views, or the shares, though all those things have been nice. But this, you, being with you is...more important.”
I swallowed. “It’s really important to me too. Like, usually I tell my friends everything, but this feels...specialer. More special. You know what I mean.”
Their eyes met mine and I knew they were going to kiss me in the moment before they did, had that anticipatory thrill right before their lips touched mine and I closed my eyes, needing something from it, maybe an acknowledgment that this was special for them too.
“I really, really enjoy you,” they murmured. We kissed for another minute before they pulled away, but not far. “Um. Do you think we should end the show?”
Part of me was relieved by the idea. Part of me was almost sad. I’d gotten used to talking to that faceless audience, to putting my thoughts in order so other people could understand them, which kind of helped me put them in order for myself. “Not gonna lie, I’ll probably miss it a little.”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to end it just for me. If you want to keep going on dates with other people and coming on—”
I kissed them. “Please don’t make me keep going on dates with other people.”
“I don’t really have an exclusivity thing. But I don’t intend to date other people than you right now.”
“Ditto, ditto, ditto. I mean, partly because dating is hard, but mostly because I just...um...because I think you and I...” I ran down in a puff of unspoken words.
“The statistical likelihood of finding someone else with whom I share this level of both physical and intellectual chemistry seems low,” Sidney said, nodding super seriously. And then almost immediately cracking a smile. “It makes sense to conserve my energy.”
“Um, exactly. Also, I like you so, so much, oh my god.” I buried my face against their shoulder, which took some flexibility given the way we were sitting with our legs between us. To cover up my words, I said quickly, “Speaking of energy, do you want to go home soon? I’m hyper-conscious of the time.”
“I can stay awhile longer.”
“Yay!” I picked my head up. “In that case, should we forage for dinner?”
They grinned. “I’ve spent my entire life thinking of food as a form of fuel I had an obligation to consume in order for the machine to run. You’ve turned it into an adventure.”
“Oh hell yes.” I grabbed their hand. “Come adventure with me into the depths of the Jenkinses’ refrigerator. Only the gods know what we might find there.”
“That sounds exciting and a little bit dangerous.”
I performed an eyebrow waggle. “Much like myself.”
“Indeed.”