Talon

"I'm not," I lie.

My body tingles as his fingers lightly brush over my scalp. "You are; don't say you're not. I can tell."

"I'm fine. Really."

"Well, it's not like you're in love with me or anything, either. We're supposed to go on our honeymoon soon, and since I only plan on getting married once, it would be nice to enjoy it. Don't you agree?"

Not in love with me, either.

That's all I can hear, echoing in my head. My poor heart, already falling cautiously in love, opens a ripped parachute and prepares for a messy, horrific landing.

"Of course I want to enjoy it," I force out, wondering if he plans to be married without love. To just be friends and have sex, which, I guess, isn't the worse thing in the world. I just had hoped for more. I wanted the love of a lifetime. I wanted to be holding his hand when we're old and gray and still see the man who stole my heart and makes forever seem like not long enough to share with him.

I roll over and turn toward the wall instead of hugging his chest like we've been sleeping lately, and his sigh permeates the quiet room.

"I thought what happened earlier was good. Why are you distancing yourself from me?"

"I'm not. I'm just going to sleep."

"You didn't like it?"

I close my eyes and count backward from five. "Of course I liked it."

His muscular arm comes around me and pulls my back against his chest, molding his body to mine, and of course, I can feel every hard inch of him.

"What is it about you that I can't get enough of?" he whispers, burying his face in my hair. "I don't know if it's because you always smell and feel so good, or what."

Or maybe you do love me, you idiot.

Does he just not know what love feels like? Of course, that would be my luck. Give me this crazy sexy guy I didn't want to begin with, get me to fall in love with him, only to find out that he doesn't know how to tell if he's in love or not.

"Aze?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can you make real cupcakes? Like ones I can eat?"

"Are you seriously talking about food right now?"

"Yeah. Smelling those soapy ones got me craving cupcakes now. I could ask Gram to make me some if you don't want to."

How can I even stay mad him when he's asking for cupcakes? "No. I'll make you cupcakes tomorrow if you go to sleep."

"Deal." He presses his foot against mine, his signature "I'm closing my eyes now" move.

Totally oblivious to my heartache, he asks for cupcakes. This could only happen to me.

* * *

"Asia, how are things going now?" Dr. Hollister questions from the laptop screen. "Happy two-month anniversary!"

"Thank you…" I didn't realize this week was two months already. I've stopped counting days and now just live in each moment we share. How ironic, just like the words he inscribed on my wedding band:

no beginning, no end, just now

"How are you two doing?" she repeats.

I shrug a little and play with my earring. "We're doing okay."

"That sounds less than enthusiastic. Tell me what's happening, and let's see what we can sort out."

"To be honest, I'm not sure how to even explain it. We mostly get along pretty well. We have a lot of fun together. He always makes me laugh. Sometimes he does something that makes me angry, but it's never intentional, it's more learning what the other likes."

Her pen flies over her notepad. "That all sounds very good."

My fingers pull at a stray thread on the knee of my jeans. "My feelings have changed a lot since the beginning. I really care about him now, and I think I'm honestly falling for him. There's something really unique and charming about him. Annoying too…but I just feel this pull to him, for lack of a better word."

"Excellent."

"Yeah, except I don't think he feels the same way. He's affectionate and very giving, but I don't think he's actually falling in love with me. I think he kinda wants to have fun and have sex and basically have a physical friendship. He never really talks about his feelings other than to say he wants it to work, but I would like to hear more about how he feels about me." I meet her eyes on the screen. "Has he said anything to you?"

"Asia, honey, you know I am not allowed to tell you anything he says."

"Not even a hint?" I try to give her my sad puppy eyes.

She shakes her head with a sympathetic frown. "I'm sorry, those are the rules we set. The chats and journals have to be confidential."

I scowl at her. "Well, that sucks."

"Why don't you just ask him? Communication is very important, Asia."

"I'm not going to ask him if he loves me. If he says no, I'll die. I can't take hearing that."

"And what if he says yes?"

"I really doubt it, Dr. H."

She scans her notes, flipping pages back. "Have you two had intercourse?"

"No."

"Is that because there is no attraction, or because you are still waiting for assurance that you are both falling in love?"

"There's definitely attraction now from my side. I'm not sure about him. He made it clear I wasn't his type at first, but he is constantly touching me, kissing me, grabbing me, and trying to get me to sleep with him. He sends a lot of mixed signals. But yeah, I guess the only real thing stopping us from having sex is me."

"Are you as physical with him as you just described to me that he is with you?"

Dr. Hollister is so evil, asking these personal questions. The initial interviews to get into this experiment were not nearly this awkward and embarrassing. "No, not really."

"Do you want to share with me why that is?"

"Well, I don't want to lead him on, obviously. I don't want to be a tease."

She removes her glasses and puts them on the top of her auburn hair. "There are a lot of things you could be doing, intimately, without having actual intercourse, Asia. Maybe that's what he needs. He could possibly, just maybe, be assuming you don't have feelings for him because you're not giving him the type of attention he requires. Just like you feel he's not giving you what you need." She flashes me a sly little smile and then looks down at her notes again.

Did she just throw me a bone?

I nod slowly. "Yes. You could be right.

"This is what I do, after all… I think you both need to give a little, let your walls down some. You are married, after all, and intimacy is very important in a marriage. While I completely respect you trying to guard your heart and body, I have a feeling that making love with him is only going to bring you closer together. And, at this point, it sounds like, whether you sleep with him or not, if things don't work out as we all hope, you are still going to walk away heartbroken. However, it would be a shame if you had to question yourself afterward that maybe things didn't go as well as they should have because you both left this huge, important part out of your marriage. The whole idea of this experiment is to put yourself into it one hundred percent."

I nod reluctantly. "Yes, you are right about that. If things ended tomorrow, I would miss him and feel a huge loss. The last thing I want is to drive him away from me or put a wedge between us."

"Then I think you need to try to spice things up a little, see how it goes. Try to remember you both answered a lot of intimate, personal questions in your written interviews, and we had our reasons when we put you together. I know it might not seem obvious to you right now, but try to trust us, okay?"

"I will. I'm sorry if we have been difficult for you."

She waves her hand at me. "Don't you dare apologize. That's what this is all about. You two are our most unique couple in the experiment, and you both have been incredibly honest in your chats. So, thank you very much for that. I know it’s uncomfortable for you at times."

"Well, thank you for being so understanding and for helping us," I say. "Hopefully next time you and I chat, I'll have better news to report."

After the chat, I run downstairs to switch the laundry, and on my way into the laundry room, I pass by Talon's work-out room. There on the bench is his journal, open. I creep slowly into the room, biting my lip as I debate what I'm about to do. Do it. Don't do it. Do it! Don't do it! Do it! Just a peek…

I pick up the soft, leather journal, a smile passing over my lips that we both chose to handwrite our journals rather than typing them into an app. Our journals are very similar in texture and style, even though we purchased them before the wedding.

Taking a deep breath, I decide I'll just read the most recent page. That's it.

I don't know how to break through the walls she has up. I know she's scared. I know I've fucked up a little. But I've tried to make up for the shit I've done. I'm not good at talking about my feelings. I try to show them, but I'm not sure it's working. It's like she's f'n clueless about how much she already means to me. I wish she would do something, anything, to show me that she wants me. I did this to feel wanted and loved for who I am and what I can give, but fuck, I'm lost. I know she cares about me, but I'm struggling with getting closer to her. I've never been the touchy-feely type, but somehow she's got me doing that stuff. But I want more. Maybe I'm a dick, but sex is important to me. It's just important in a different way with her. I have no f'n idea what I'm even saying anymore. I'm afraid the longer this goes on, we're never going to be more than roommates that tease each other sometimes. I'm not sure where my wife is in all this or how to get her to come out.

My eyes blur with tears as I stare at his words in his unique scribbly handwriting. With a shaking hand, I put the journal back exactly where I found it and quickly leave the room.

I had no idea he felt that way.

And here I thought he was friend-zoning me most of the time.