“Mm, nice everything. Don’t get too cocky now. I think there should be a limit.”
“A limit?”
“On how cocky one can be.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like you shouldn’t be so obviously into yourself that you think you can do anything. Because that borders on delusion.” I breathe a laugh through my nose as she moves the hair on the sides of my head.
“If I looked like you, I would be considered insane, then.” I bite my lip, and she tilts her head for a second, and then a smile grows on her lips.
“Same.” She finally says, letting go of me, and I want to take her hand and put it back on my neck, so I do.
“What do you mean?” I study her eyes in the dim light, still just as alluring as they always look.
“If we switched bodies, we’d both be crazy— like Joker and Harley crazy.” I brush some hair behind her ear, but leave my hand there. It’s pleasant to know that she thinks I'm hot, at least while she’s drunk. Not that I’m surprised. I know I’m attractive. It’s just nice to know she thinks so for some reason.
There’s a blur of lines now. It’s almost like the space between us is mutually shared, and our bodies aren’t exclusively ours. I don’t like feeling out of control with her. Usually, I’m all about letting the moment take you where it may, but I can’t be like that with her. Hopefully, when this is all over, I can forget about the way she feels and not have to be plagued by the feeling of wanting each other so badly.
I don’t know when it happened, but we end up laying an inch apart, foreheads almost touching, staring into one another’s eyes. I don’t know why the fuck I’m not just fucking her already. But I’m frozen now because it feels so real. More real than anything I’ve ever felt. I don’t know why, but I can’t shake it. So, I don’t try. I simply remain until we drift to sleep.
Sleep felt like blinking because when I opened my eyes, the early morning light was streaming through the blinds, fire stifled, and Stella on my chest. It was a serene moment of bliss that scares me when I realize how much it felt like couple shit. So, that’s why I slid out from under her and headed upstairs, grabbed my Versace workout clothes and tennis shoes before heading back downstairs and out the door.
I run as fast as I can for as long as I can,for the first time since track in high school. Let all the feelings brewing inside me burn off as I pick up my pace. I’m purging my body of anything resembling emotions I can’t cope with, don’t want to, shouldn’t… I didn’t even think I could have feelings like this. It’s probably some factor that hasn't crossed my mind.
The wine? The Scrabble? Stella’s eyes? Fuck.
I don’t know how long I run, but I’m hyperventilating by the end of it, clutching my stabbing side pains and limping with shin splints. When I get inside, I sprint right past the lounge, not even looking to see if Stella is there, but I think I feel her watching me. I grunt and cough at the top of the stairs, but continue walking to my room.
I quickly take a cold shower and throw on an olive Gucci jumpsuit with my Versace combat boots. Next, I grab a thick gold chain but realize it’s the one I wore when I fucked Stella and decide to never wear it again before picking out a thick silver one. Then I splash on some cologne to top the look off.
For the entirety of the day, I go back to ignoring her because every time I even have a thought about her, it feels different. The longing to fuck her again has steeply increased, and I’m seriously stupid for thinking that it’s even a remotely good idea.
Then she frolics around the house in a white tank top and shorts that show her perfect ass like I’m supposed to think of her platonically when half her body is out for me to fuck with my eyes. Shit. I’m fucking her with my eyes. I have to forget about this.
It’s like we’re in some social experiment where because we’re told we can’t fuck, we really want to. At least, I really want to. She seems completely okay walking around me. Though, last night when she admitted to being bothered by my lack of engagement with her, I think it might mess with her more than she lets on.
Whatever though, right? I shouldn’t give two fucks. So, I don’t. I stay away from the house for the rest of the day, prepare to meet Tito, and go with him to the stupid premier. Stella and I can take pictures with each other when we arrive, then I can avoid her for the rest of the night. I don’t think they let reporters in there anyway. Plus, we have Nancy, the publicist, helping us out. She can manage perception.
Hell, maybe I’ll get blasted.
The night rolls around, and I get a few texts from Stella.
“Where are you?”
“Are we going to drive together?”
“Never mind, Tito told me you guys are meeting us there.”
I shake my head and shove my phone back into my pocket. Tito and I have been at a bar all afternoon, and he’s been telling me about some device he’s working on, but to be honest, I’m not listening.
I keep thinking about Stella. Everything he says brings my mind away from the conversation and back to her. It’s got to be a curse. I slept with a witch and pissed her off, and she’s retaliated by making me more addicted to Stella than I’ve been to anything. Fuck. I wish the explanation was that easy.
Stella is under my skin, and I can’t get her out. It's like a splinter that continues to bury deeper every time I attempt to pry it out. Eventually, Tito lets me know that we should be on our way. I’m four drinks in at least, and I’m feeling a little less caught in my emotions. I'm sailing on smoother waters, but by the time we reach the premiere afterparty, I’m feeling a bit too connected to reality, and I know I’ll need more shots inside.
Cameras blind us as we climb out of the car and walk through the back door. Why are they even allowed at the back door? I should have gone with Stella to enter because unless Nancy stops them, they will post this shit and speculate why we didn’t walk in together. They’ve been relentless all week, following us in and out of stores and through the streets, asking us questions about our relationship as we ignore them. Scum of the earth, I call them.
I guess we are using them to our advantage, though. Makes me feel good that we can manipulate the media this way. Makes me wonder how many other people do the same. Has to be more than I thought before.