"It's not that."
He raises a brow.
"Okay, maybe I'm a snob. But it's not just me."
"The prodigal daughter is supposed to do better than someone's assistant?" he offers.
"Exactly." My gaze goes to my bare feet. This conversation needs to stop.
But I can't run away from this forever.
I can't hang out in Joel's beautiful apartment forever.
I don't get him comforting me forever.
Eventually, I have to get back to my life.
If that's not law school, then what the hell is it?
I play with my t-shirt. "Have you always wanted to be a drummer?"
"Since I can remember."
I look up at him. "What's it like, knowing exactly what you want?"
"I'm not an introspective guy."
"Try."
He thinks for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is steady. Confident. "You ever feel like you know exactly where you're supposed to be?"
I nod. "When I read." And sometimes, when I've been around him. But that's confusing. I don't get to be around him for long.
"It's like that." He runs his fingertips over my ankle. "You want it so fucking bad. When you have it, fuck. It's like chocolate and bourbon and sex all mixed together."
"At once?"
"No, but it feels that fucking good, the satisfaction." He looks into my eyes. "When you want it but you can't have it—it's like if you were naked on my bed, spreading your legs, shooting me a come hither look—"
"It's like me naked on your bed?"
He laughs. "I'm not finished."
I nod go on.
He does. "It's like you naked on my bed, inviting me to fuck you, but then you're too far away. When I reach out to touch you, I get air. I'm close, but I can't get there. It feels good to want it. But it hurts too."
Somehow, I get that. "Desire feels good."
"Yeah."
I lean back into the couch and pull my knees into my chest.
I can't bring myself to look Joel in the eyes. I try to pay attention to the TV, but the car commercial isn't particularly entertaining. "I've never felt like that."
"Not everyone is passionate about work."
I shake my head. "I've never felt that kind of passion."