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Liza Morris
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand. What exactly are you asking from me?”
“Did I wake you up? I did, didn’t I? Sorry, I’m an asshole.”
“No! No, you didn’t. I was just lost in a book.”
Liza winced a little at the sound of the lie. She had most definitely been asleep, but the idea of admitting it to Wesley was absolutely mortifying. For starters, a quick glance at the clock told her it was only eleven-thirty in the morning. For another thing, it felt weird lying to him, especially when she already had such a big lie hovering over her. The end-all, be-all kind of lie – the kind people probably didn't forgive you for. Melony's advice had been to wait until she got a firm diagnosis from a doctor, then to milk Wesley for all he was worth. In Wesley's case, that was a hell of a lot. Maybe it wasn't the worst advice in the world. It didn't strike Liza as particularly ethical, but nothing about her current position really did. Ethical went out the window when you agreed to an Indecent Proposal situation, ethics kind of flew out the window. Melony's take was probably the smart play. Instead, Liza had spent the last three weeks exhausted and trying not to sleep twenty hours a day. She hadn't heard from Wesley, but it hadn't surprised her. He'd made it clear that he was a busy man and that their "dates" wouldn't always be consistent. Plus, she had seen their picture on the cover of Today magazine while waiting in line at the grocery store. If what Wesley wanted was to create the public illusion of a relationship to get his ex off his back, he was getting it. For all she knew, he wouldn't need her at all come a couple of months from now. The butterflies in her stomach didn't appear to care about that, though. They were only happy to hear his voice.
“Okay, okay, fine. A book never crossed my mind, how’s that for sad?” Wesley laughed, blissfully unaware of the torment speeding a mile a minute through her head.
“No, it’s not sad,” she laughed, hoping she didn’t sound as exhausted as she felt.
"That's kind of you to say, but I think we both know who the intellectual is in the relationship. Or...shit, you know what I mean, right?" He laughed nervously. She did know what he meant; of course, she did. It was all in the contract he'd drawn up before this mess had gotten started. It didn't make it sting any less, though. The butterflies didn't know the difference between real and fake.
"I know what you mean. I still don't understand what you want from me right now, though. Could you clear that part up?" She was doing her best to use her all business voice. It made her sound stiff and prudish. She didn't like it but on the other hand, a healthy dose of prude on that first night wouldn't have been such a bad idea.
“Right,” he said quickly, mimicking her tone, “enough dicking around. Sorry. I have to go to Austin for the weekend. I want you to go with me. If you’re available, that is.”
“Okay, I guess I’m available, but why? That’s the part I still don’t get.”
“Because. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. I’m guessing you’ve seen-”
"I've seen them," she interrupted. She didn't want to talk about those pictures with Wesley; she didn't want to go into the details of how well they were pulling off their public misdirection. She most definitely didn't want to get into the many comparisons being made between her and Megan. She thought she would rather have needles dug into her nail beds than get into the speculation of Wesley's drastic change in "physical type." If those paparazzi freaks thought she was bigger now, just wait until they got a look at her nine months’ pregnant. They were liable to drop dead of coronaries.
"Good, then you know it's going according to plan. I won't ask you to take a trip like this again if you don't like and you obviously don't have to come if you really don't want to. I think it'll drive the point home, though. I saw Megan the other day and-"
“It’s okay, Wesley. I’ll go.”
"Will you?" he asked a little too loudly. And was that genuine excitement in his voice? God, she wanted it to be. She wanted it a little too much to be able to trust her own perspective. It was probably just for her benefit; another of their mutual lies. Either way, she was going, and she was going to tell him about the baby. No time like the present, right?
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
LIZA WAS TEMPTED TO call back and change her mind at least three dozen times before Wesley arrived to pick her up. Blurring more lines seemed like a bad idea. She had already blurred, so many the idea of boundaries felt like a distant memory. Every time she went to pick up her phone, though, she thought about what Wesley had started to say: when he'd seen Megan. When he'd seen Megan the other day. It drove her crazy, that incomplete sentence. She was dying to know the details, and it was killing her to think about him seeing his ex at all. It was why she didn't cancel. It was why she met Wesley at the quaint private airstrip even though she far from loved flying. She sat in beside him in the tiny plane and thought about every movie she had ever seen in which a plane crashed. It was nauseating, but it was exhilarating, too. Because she was doing something she'd never done before and she was doing it with Wesley so close she could practically taste him. Just the two of them and the baby growing inside of her. She thought she would regret the trip and was surprised by how wrong she turned out to be. She'd never been to Austin before and instantly regretted all of the time she hadn't yet spent there. It was surprisingly beautiful, with a deep, cool river running through its heart and row upon row of dark green trees. The whole city smelled like cedar, and everywhere she and Wesley walked people smiled and said hello. He held her hand, their fingers laced together like it was the most normal thing in the world. Every time she took a breath she wanted to tell him about the life growing inside of her. Every time she opened her mouth her heart jumped up to block it so that no sound could come out. She had always been afraid to speak her mind: to her parents when she'd done something bad or wanted something she didn't think they were willing to give, but nothing came close to comparing. She wanted to tell him everything. She didn't want to ruin such a perfect afternoon bleeding into just as perfect an evening. It went by so quickly that she never even thought about their sleeping arrangements until they arrived at their hotel. When Wesley pulled up to the boutique hotel in their rented convertible, panic threatened to invade her stupidly contented thoughts.
“Would it be okay with you if I just wait here while you check in? Would that be alright?” she asked timidly.
"What's the matter? You embarrassed to be seen with me?" He grinned, leaning over the top of his already shut door. His hair fell over his brow, and to Liza, he looked heartbreakingly like James Dean. She wanted to slide across the middle console and kiss him, not because they were putting on a show but because she just wanted to. She clasped her hands in her lap, then locked them between her knees just in case they decided to be rebellious.
“No, not at all. I’m just tired. I’ve been feeling really tired lately.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, a look of real concern on his face that only made her feel guilty, “I heard it on the phone. I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”
“No, please don’t say that. I’m glad I came. This city is sort of great, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it sort of is. I’ll be back in a jiff, okay?” he said, then trotted off to get them settled. Liza couldn’t help it; she watched him go and imagined what it would be like if the two of them were a real couple instead of one for show. There would be many trips like this one. Trips to far off places she had only dreamed about, too. There would be long, lazy afternoons and nights spent tangled in crisp white sheets while they drank each other in.
“And a baby, too,” she whispered to herself, “don’t forget that part. Can’t forget that.”
It was enough to derail the fantasies before they got too far off the ground and when Wesley jogged back up to the car, she was only sitting there, subdued.
“Ready?” he asked, his eyes still concerned but a charming smile on his face.
"Sure, ready. Lead the way." She smiled in return. He helped her out of the car, holding her door like a genuine gentleman, and held her hand again while leading her down a flower-lined pathway. The hotel really was beautiful, especially beneath the deep purple night sky. The sound of shrieks and splashing came from some unseen pool, as did an acoustic set from the outdoor bar and restaurant. Liza shuddered at the thought he might ask if she wanted to go for a drink. How to turn down the alcohol without raising suspicion? He didn't though, didn't say anything, in fact, and when she glanced at his face, he looked like he was someplace far away. Like maybe there was something secret going on in his head, too.
"This is it," he said, finally breaking the silence, "kind of cute, huh?" She nodded her head because it was. This was one of those hotels that made you wish you had a different kind of life: a boutique life, with a pretty wooden door and orange rocking chairs sitting on either side.
“Very cute. I love it, actually.”
“Good. I was hoping that you would.”
He opened the door and let the two of them inside. It was just as cute on the inside as it was on the outside, a little sitting room with a bright yellow mid-century modern couch beside the door and one of those adorable vintage-style fridges. The bathroom could be accessed through a barn door and in the middle of the concrete floor were the beds. Beds, plural. Beds, as in two. She looked up quickly, wanting to see if this was part of the plan or if Wesley was just as surprised as she was. If he noticed, he didn't let on. He took both of their overnight bags and set one on each bed. Like they were strangers who just happened to be sharing a room together for a night.
“Why don’t you use the bathroom first? I can see that you’re still tired.”
"Thanks," she answered, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt, "I'll be quick."
She slunk into the bathroom and slid the door shut, her bag slung over her shoulder. The door was cute, but now that she was inside the stupid bathroom she realized that she could hear everything.
“Shit,” she breathed, trying not to panic.
“Everything okay?” he called from the other room.
"Fine, just stubbed my toe," she called back, rolling her eyes and fighting the urge to bust out laughing. There was her confirmation that there was zero privacy. She turned the faucet on, thought for a moment, then turned it up as high as it would go. She got ready for bed quickly, trying not to let herself conjure up memories of middle school summer camp when everyone had been developing crushes, and none of them had been on her. She wasn't that girl anymore. Whatever else was going on, she wasn't that girl. She and Wesley weren't a couple and wouldn't ever be, but he had wanted her all the same. He was one of the hottest guys on tv, and he had wanted her. Whatever his response when she got up the nerve to tell him about the baby, that part would always be true.
“Wow.”
"I don't think it's exactly a wow moment, do you?" she asked, laughing him off as she slid out of the bathroom and hurried to her bed. It was ridiculous for her to feel nervous about him seeing her in her booty short panties and white ribbed tank. He had seen her naked. He'd had his face between her legs, for God's sake. Still, she was grateful when she was under her covers and even more grateful when Wesley was done with the bathroom and turning out the lights. She was tired, goddamnit, so terribly tired, and all she wanted to do was sleep. It was a good thing that there were two separate beds, whether her wounded pride and stupid expectations liked it or not. She silently reminded herself of this fact over and over again, staring up at the ceiling fan as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. The dark and the feeling of another person in the room with her, also trying to sleep. It had been a long, long time since Liza had tried to sleep in the same room as a man. She had forgotten how much more intimate things could feel when everyone's clothes were on. She had no idea why that might be so, other than to think that without the distraction of slick, moving body parts, people were left with nothing but being themselves. If she'd been more aware of this, she would never have agreed to Wesley's impromptu trip.
"Liza? You awake over there?" Wesley whispered hopefully. Something about the sound of his voice drew up the summer camp image again, only this time it wasn't such a bad thing. It wasn't bad because it wasn't about her. Wesley's voice sounded almost childlike calling out to her from across the dark. She could imagine him being in some summer camp somewhere, too, wondering why his parents had insisted on getting rid of him for months on end and whether or not he was going to make it through the summer without crying because he missed home. It was a sweet, vulnerable picture and it made her heart ache. When she thought about Wesley that way, they didn't feel so far apart. It was a foolish thing, to infer so much from so little, and yet she could not make the whisperings of her mind quiet.
“I’m awake,” she answered, surprised by the serenity in her voice. Her heart was pounding, pounding violently. She had no right to sound so calm.
“Will you do something for me?” he asked in that same new voice. Because it sounded like he was afraid that she would refuse him, Liza knew her only answer could be yes.
“Depends. What is it you want me to do?”
“Nothing too awful. Just hop into bed with me?”
Liza peeled back the covers without saying a word. She would never tell him how happy his simple request made her, no matter what transpired between the two of them. She would keep the feeling in her pocket for a rainy day and pull it out when she was feeling blue. To be wanted. Such a simple thing but maybe not so simple, too. When she reached the edge of his bed, the covers were pulled back, Wesley waiting for her to slip underneath. She pressed up against the warmth of his body, marveling that one man could generate so much heat. She waited to see if he would reach for her the way he had the times before – if he would begin whispering dirty things to make her blush in the dark. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. Her head rested on his chest, and she listened to the sound of his heart beating, steady and strong. She was aroused; she was always aroused when she was around him now, but she was glad he didn't make a move. When he kissed the top of her head and sighed deeply, contentedly, she snuggled up closer, wondering if she would ever be able to get close enough.
“Thanks for coming over,” he said softly, his breath blowing across her hair and making her shiver.
"No problem," she smiled against his chest, "it wasn't that far of a walk."
“Thanks for coming with me, too. And for all of it, I guess,” he said even softer this time.
"No problem," she whispered. She couldn't make her words sound any louder if she tried. It was perfect, lying there just the two of them in the dark, but it was sort of awful, too. Because now she knew, really understood, that she was falling for him. The knowing was like opening Pandora's box. She would never be able to put everything back where it belonged again. As for telling him about the baby, she couldn't do it. It was probably the perfect time for it but she just couldn't. Instead, she nuzzled his chest and shut her eyes, willing herself to drift off to sleep. She was almost there when he opened his mouth one last time. What he said next kept her up for a very, very long time.
"I have another favor to ask, and it's a big one. I don't think you're going to like it all that much."
