“Couldn’t sleep,” I mutter as I sort through the wardrobe items for the next week of shooting.
Sam’s great. He’s smart and quick and has an amazing sense of style, which is needed for this line of work. He’s also nosy and in my attempt to keep all of Devin’s secrets from my sisters, I’ve found myself confiding in him. He puts his stuff down on his desk and stares at me. “How was the party last night?”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Fine.”
My phone starts to buzz. I walk over to where it’s lying on top of my desk. It’s Devin. I send it to voicemail and walk back over to the clothes racks. Sam’s got his eyebrow in the air now. “Something is not fine.”
“Everything is fine,” I argue back.
I have to tell someone and I can’t tell my sisters. They will lose their minds and tell their silly boyfriends and then this will become a big, huge deal. I am trying to avoid the big, huge deal.
“I fucked Devin.”
“Yes!” He literally starts to jump up and down and reaches out to high-five me. I stare at him and cross my arms over my chest. His face gets serious. “Was it horrible? Please do not tell me he is horrible in bed! I Googled him and he’s gorgeous. I’d be so devastated if he wasn’t any good.”
My glare softens. “Best sex of my life.”
“Yes! So what the hell is the bitch face for?” Sam wants to know, giving me a look that says he thinks I’m insane.
“We had sex on the couch,” I start to complain.
“Not that classy, but whatever. It’s Devin Garrison. If he asked me to do it in a gas station restroom, I would,” Sam blurts out and I laugh. “More details, please.”
“Well, afterward I kind of passed out and he took me upstairs and put me in his bed instead of mine,” I complain.
I drop down into my desk chair and look up at him. Sam is staring at me blankly from behind his thick-rimmed black glasses that he wears because “hipster is in” and not because he has vision problems.
“Does he cuddle?” he wants to know. “I bet he’s a rock star at cuddling.”
“I do not want to cuddle my one-night stand,” I say in slow, overpronounced words so he gets the point. Sam stares at me for a long minute, blinking cluelessly, and then he bursts out laughing. It’s such a weird response that I can’t help but laugh a little too.
“Have you lost your mind?” I ask him with a giggle. “What is so funny?”
He holds his sides and wheezes through his chuckles. “That you think Devin is a one-night stand!”
I stop laughing.
“Why wouldn’t he be?!” I demand and feel that panic attack from earlier trying to make another appearance.
“You really believe that?” he asks me skeptically.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Hmm, well, let’s see,” He scratches his chin and stares up at the ceiling pretending to be lost in deep thought. “Because you’ve known him forever and he’s one of your best friends. Because you’ve been helping him through a really emotional time in his life. Because you talk about his kid like you gave birth to him. Because you LIVE together. Oh yeah, and because you CARE about him.”
“That doesn’t mean this can’t be a one-time thing,” I insist as the panic attack erupts inside me again. I put a hand to my heart to make sure it doesn’t crack through my rib cage. “I mean the friendship part is forever, but the sex thing was a one-off.”
He says nothing, just stares at me with a smug, knowing smirk that makes me want to run screaming from this building, from Brooklyn and from Devin Garrison.
“Stop looking at me like that!”
There’s a knock at the door and Matthew is standing there holding something wrapped in foil that smells delicious. His eyes find me and he grins.
“Brought you a breakfast burrito from the craft services cart.” He offers it to me.
