“I had sex with her,” I say, making sure she knows exactly what I mean.
She tilts her head slightly, staring at me quizzically.
“I don’t have any claim over you, Evan,” she finally says.
Her statement is so straightforward, I don’t know how to react. As I stare at her dumbly, she continues.
“I know you don’t want me to see other clients while we have this arrangement,” Alina says, “but that doesn’t mean I’m trying to control what you do. I consider this monogamous from my side, not yours.”
“So, what are you saying? You don’t give a shit if I fuck other women?”
Alina’s mouth opens and closes, but she doesn’t say anything. She looks away from me and presses her lips together. Her body language confuses me. She’s obviously tense but not tense enough to qualify as angry. Anger is what I had expected, and I don’t understand the reaction I’m getting.
“Evan, what is this to you?” she asks quietly as she turns to face me.
“I don’t know.” I swallow hard, not sure how to answer. “It was just sex and sleep, but now…I just don’t know. It’s different.”
“In what way?”
“You’re different. You don’t push me to talk when I don’t want to. You put up with my shit, and you really don’t have to. Like you said, you aren’t afraid of me. That’s different.”
“Most people are.”
“They all are.”
“That has to make relationships very hard for you.”
I never really thought about it, but she’s probably right. I can’t trust anyone, and no one is safe around me.
“What is this to you?” I ask, turning the question around on her.
“I told you I had a childhood crush on Zach.”
“Yeah.”
“Reading his letters and hearing him talk about you—how much he admired you—well, I think that crush kind of transferred. You’re my hero’s hero.”
“I’m not a hero.”
“You were to him.”
I want to deny it, but as I reflect, I wonder if it is true. He did look up to me; I knew that when he was assigned as my spotter. You would have thought he had received the Medal of Honor the way he acted.
If Alina thinks I’m some kind of hero, she’s going to end up disappointed. I can’t live up to that. I can hardly deal with the idea of being with someone who isn’t paid to share my bed. There are obligations, and I will end up failing at them because Rinaldo needs something from me, and he will always come first.
Not anymore.
I close my eyes. I don’t want to think about that—not now. If I do, I’ll just become the moody bastard she won’t want to be around. Before this even starts, I’ll fuck it up.
“I’m not good at the whole relationship thing,” I say.
“You aren’t so bad.”
“Ha! Really?”
“Well, you apologized. Twice now. Lots of guys never do that.”
“It’s not something I usually do.”