I have no goddamn idea what she’s talking about. Spinning around to look where she’s looking, I remember Maddie merrily “sprucing” up my kitchen for me. I remember seeing she put five random tea cups on my unused corner shelves, but to be honest, I never even looked twice at them.
Now I walk over to grab one, and sure enough, they are frilly-ass Alice in Wonderland tea cups. I have to smile a little.
“Remember the sister I told you about? The favorite one? She does shit like this to people.”
Her smile relaxes, since I don’t have a secret girlfriend. “Oh, okay. Does she live here with you?”
“No, but she has a key. Sometimes she likes to pop over and leave me things. Sometimes good things, like food, sometimes things like this.”
“It sounds like you’re close to her.”
“We’re close, yeah,” I say with a nod. “She’d like you.”
“I’m sure I would like her, too. Anyone who sneakily plants girl décor around your house seems like a winner to me.”
“I wish you could meet her,” I say, glancing at the tea cup. I’m surprised to find it’s actually true, too. Maddie’s met a few girls over the years, but she’s never been impressed by a single one.
“Yeah, so do I,” she says, quietly. “I mean, not right now, obviously, but… it kind of sucks knowing it’s not an option at all.”
I replace the tea cup on the shelf and head back to the island. “Maybe it will be. Maybe I’ll invite her over for dinner with us one night.”
Glancing down at her hands on the countertop, she says, “You say that like we’re going to do this often.”
I shrug. “Maybe we will.”
Francesca doesn’t watch me, but her hands. “I was thinking about this,” she begins. It sounds like an intimidating beginning—I’m not sure for her or for me, but it’s like she’s trying to ramp up courage to spit it out, whatever it is.
“Okay,” I say, a bit cautiously.
“I wasn’t going to say this until the end,” she adds, fleetingly meeting my gaze. “I thought I would wait and see how this went first, to see if it’s even worth the headache. Because this is going to be a headache. I have to hide to send you texts, and even then I feel paranoid about it.”
“It’s not ideal,” I acknowledge.
“I felt like I was pulling a bank heist when I left to come here tonight,” she adds. “But I am attracted to you, and you’re obviously attracted to me… so, maybe we don’t have any kind of future together, but what if that’s okay?”
Now this is more the level of commitment I’m used to having with women. We have no future together, and that’s okay—but for some reason, it makes me feel empty when Francesca says it. “So, what does that mean?” I ask her, wanting to see where she’s at.
“It means as long as we can pull it off, and as long as want to keep seeing each other, we do. But it’s not a relationship, and as soon as one or the other of us is done, we stop and no one ever has to know it happened.”
“A secret relationship.”
“No,” she says, too firmly. I think it’s herself she’s trying to protect with this shit. “Not a relationship, just… fun.”
“Fun,” I repeat, bracing a hand against the countertop, wondering why this is making me so aggravated. This is literally my normal. There’s no reason on God’s green Earth I shouldn’t be jumping on board.
Nodding rather vigorously, she says, “All of the fun, none of the bullshit.”
“So, I’m free to see other women then?”
Her smile drops ever-so-slightly. “I suppose so.”
“And you’re free to see other men.”
“It’s not likely to come up, but… sure, I guess.”
“Nope.”
Her dark eyebrows pull together, as if confused. “Nope?”
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “Not interested.”
“In… me?”
“In the possibility of sharing you. In seeing other women. In any of that half-ass bullshit.”
Inexplicably, this annoys her. “Well, I’m trying to compromise here. We obviously can’t have a normal relationship. It isn’t possible given our circumstances. If we’re going to do this, I don’t want to just… I need to know what to expect. I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment.”
“Well, this idea sets me up for disappointment.”
Francesca rolls her eyes. “You’re the one who would benefit from it. You see how hard it is for me to date. I don’t have time for two secret boyfriends. This way if it starts to get tiring for you… you have an out.”
“How considerate,” I say, dryly. “I’m not an asshole, Francesca. I don’t want an out. You’re here right now even though this whole thing’s nothing but trouble because I want you. No one else.”
“Then what do you propose? If my idea is so terrible, give me a better alternative.”