“I figured something out today,” Emily says quietly, and the crack in my heart deepens.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s about the lingerie shoot, and why I was so mad at you before.”
Oh. “I understand now why you insisted that wasn’t your fantasy,” she says. “Even if you didn’t know yet exactly how bad it was going to be.”
“You’re my fantasy,” I say, and she smiles, her cheeks pink in the firelight.The sky is almost entirely dark now, and the fire forms this warm glow in a bubble around us.
A bubble of safety, maybe, though I think that feeling comes from being with her.
How is it that I can feel so safe with her and yet so scared at the same time?That doesn’t seem like it should be possible, but it somehow is.
She places her hand on my knee. “It’s not that I want you to be attracted to the Not-Wives, obviously. But you said you didn’t know why anyone would want to see that. And yeah, the Not-Wives are older than us. But they’re beautiful women, and they’ve still got great bodies, better than I’ll probably have at their age, given that I’m not inclined to plastic surgery or fad diets or spending four hours a day with a personal trainer.”
It’s starting to come together for me what she’s upset about, and Emily finishes the thought.
“So I wonder what you’ll think of me when I’m not in my twenties anymore, you know? If you think no one could ever be attracted to them, how will you feel about me when we’re older?”
“Hey,” I say, running my hand up her back. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know you didn’t. But if you’re not at all attracted to them . . .” She trails off, her lips tugging down.
I’m having a hard time putting words to it. “Of course I’ll be attracted to you when you’re older. It’s not like I’m only going to want twenty-somethings for the rest of my life. I’m not Hugh Hefner.”
“I know you’re not,” she says. “I didn’t mean—”
“And I’m in love with you, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to have a perfect body. I’m always going to want you, no matter what.”
Emily melts against my side. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’ve always been attracted to how confident you are, you know? All the plastic surgery and fad diets and things—I guess I can see howsomeonecould do that confidently, but that crowd?They act so full of themselves, but they’re full of insecurity.”
“They do reek of desperation.”
“Exactly. Not attractive. It has nothing to do with their age or even their bodies, really.”
She’s quiet for a minute. “I’m not always confident, though.”
I kiss the top of her head. God, I still suck at this. I’m trying to help, but I’m making it worse. “You’re confident in who you are.That doesn’t mean you can’t have worries.”
“I hope not,” she says, and I close my eyes, trying to think of what to say. “I feel the same way about you. I know your dad suggested you’re not good enough for me, but he’s wrong. You’re amazing. More than good enough for me.”
I sigh. I know I shouldn’t argue with her, but that’s something else I’ve been holding back for a long time, and maybe I should stop. “I don’t know. I still think you could do better.” It hurts to say, but at the same time, feels like a relief.The truth, out in the open.
“Oh, really?” She looks skeptical, which I appreciate. “And how would I possibly do that?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “You could be with someone way smarter than me. And, like, more serious.”
“I’ve dated plenty of guys who considered themselves book smart and accomplished. Some were nice enough, and some were super snooty and tried to take me to the French cinema. And I was bored out of my mind.”
“I’d take you to the French cinema,” I say, although obviously I never have. Mostly because I would never think to do something like that. “But we wouldn’t be bored. We’d wear black berets and act all superior”—now I fake a terrible French accent—“and compliment zeartisteon ze symbolism of ze yellow banahna.”
Emily laughs, and it’s such an incredible sound. Even more so than usual, given what we’ve been going through. “Oh my god, we would! We would have a blast, because you’re amazing and fun and loving andalsosuper smart.”
“Hmph,” I say, but Emily punches me in the shoulder.
“Youare.There’s so much brain work in climbing, and you’re incredible at it.”
