TEN

So from the hotel, we visited my mother’s clinic, and Bain talked to the doctor about the procedures and the financial aspect of my mother’s care. 

I was dazed after we left the clinic, as I was now in possession of a check worth twice the amount the doctor surmised was going to be the approximate cost of my mother’s treatment. 

My mother and Nana Maria had just been told that a pharmaceutical company had chosen my mother to be a part of the study program for a chemotherapy procedure she was already undergoing. 

All of her treatment expenses and medicine would be paid because of it.

Although I was grateful after we’d left the hospital that my mother’s treatments would continue without fail and that she wouldn’t have to secretly scrimp on her pills, I felt anxious as the day went on, waiting for the shoe to drop. 

I was secretly attacked by misgivings. 

I shouldn’t have slept with him this morning. 

No, that was wrong. As he’d said, it was mutual consent to practice.

But I shouldn’t be enjoying him too much. I shouldn’t be thinking of this as a real thing.

And every time I stopped and thought about it, I felt more and more awkward about my unusual relationship with Bain.

But the day moved on, regardless of my thoughts and misgivings.

We next went to the same bank he was using for his personal accounts to set up an account for me. 

He ordered a supplementary credit card for me extended from his account. Again, I accepted, though after the check that I kept in my bag, I didn’t know what the credit card was for, and I asked him. 

He told me I needed it for all expenses I would incur posing as his girlfriend.

Okay.

So I initiated a talk about what he thought I might need, but he waved this away, telling me we still had to go to my university. 

I told him I could fix this one myself and he didn’t have to come with me. 

So he happily concluded we could now continue on our day tour.

We spent the next hour on the Brooklyn Bridge, walking amid tourist traffic with my hand in his. He took it as if it was the most natural thing to do, and I let him because it was what the deal was about, remember? 

He asked me things about my past that he should know about in our relationship, bits and pieces about my childhood and experiences in school. 

I supplied him with this information. I told him about my most memorable toy, my first heartbreak (when my parents divorced and my father migrated to New Zealand with his second wife), my first kiss (technically it was stolen on a first and last date), and my high school graduation, which my mother had been too sick to attend and so Nana went to instead.

I received a hug and a kiss on my hair for this, and I felt like it came from a long-time friend.

It was already late in the morning but the air was still cool. We had our first picture together on the bridge, and he stole a kiss after pulling me from the path of a cyclist who was trying to navigate through people traffic. 

Some kids were happily marching on the bike lane until their parents pulled them out of the way, but one of the boys kept running back to the lane and at one point, the cyclist had to swerve to avoid him.

He pulled me to get me out of the way and I bumped into him. And then he kissed me. 

So thoroughly, might I add?

There were several claps and catcalls and when he released me, I hid my face in his chest, melting with embarrassment. The vibration as he softly laughed felt good on my cheek as he told me that was to compensate for my first stolen kiss. 

I thanked him, cursing at the warm feeling chomping at my heart.

We moved on.

We had pizza for lunch. 

Then we watched kids ride the carousel at Jane’s. 

We sipped wine at Racine’s before eating dinner in Chinatown because I mentioned a craving for Asian noodles and the smell of sesame oil on dumplings. 

He took me back to my place after that and I didn’t invite him in but… I succumbed to his suggestion of a goodnight kiss.

We kissed a long time, several times, before he had to let go of me, reluctantly. It was only because the cab he’d booked had arrived and was waiting for him impatiently.

I showered off the dust and sweat on my skin and, after that, lay in my bed, and I thought about this new ‘job’ and how it almost didn’t feel like one. 

I stared at the ceiling, thinking I should focus more on how grateful I was for this incredible opportunity to be with someone like Bain because, aside from sex, he was an intelligent companion the whole day. 

He’d played my ideal boyfriend so well—sweet and thoughtful, very attentive, very touchy, and focused a hundred percent on me.

I wondered, as my eyes struggled to lift suddenly heavy eyelids, what rate he was giving me as he lay in bed thinking about the day.

Because at this point, I wanted him to just be my real boyfriend.

And I drifted to sleep, escaping the feeling of guilt at that last thought I had…

The next thing I knew, it was morning.

And my door’s bell was shrieking.

I managed to get up, stumbled towards the bath to at least wash my face and gargle mouthwash, and went downstairs to open the front door, still blinking the sleep off my eyes. 

He promptly pushed me inside, took me into his arms, and kissed me a good morning kiss.

Like he’d missed me.

“Hmmm…” came out of me after a while, maybe more than a minute, I thought, when he finally raised his head from me.

“Good morning,” he greeted me in a husky voice. “You feel warm and soft from sleep. I like it.”

I opened my eyes and saw his handsome, freshly scrubbed, freshly shaved face. 

I smelled his after-shave, his cologne, and the now familiar clean scent coming off his body. 

I felt the warmth of his breath and appreciated the solid bulk that now supported my body, and the arms holding me where he wanted me to be.

“Good morning,” I replied grumpily. “Stop seducing me. I need to get ready.”

“How long do you need to get ready?”

We were going to Central Park today. We would probably be kissing under the Huddlestone Arch.

I’m doomed.

“Ten minutes?”

“No way.”

“I promise. Or do I need to take more than that?” I started to worry. “More makeup?”

He shook his head. “You looked good with what you had on your face yesterday,” he said. “You’re beautiful, Gia. It’s just… women usually take longer than ten minutes to get prepped up, so… I’m not exactly sure why. But you can do that, too. I’ll wait for you, baby.”

I snorted. “I don’t take that long. Ten minutes.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

I pulled away from him and raced back upstairs. I heard his phone ringing before I could close my door and I’d wondered if he would have followed me if not for that call. 

I changed into a comfortable blue navy dress that reached down past my knee and came out of my room with my purse straps on my shoulder to find him wearing my rug thin as he walked back and forth.

“What’s wrong?”

He turned at my voice and he seemed to just pause, his eyes raking me from head to toe without any other muscle moving. Then he smiled.

“That’s ten minutes? I wonder what you can accomplish in thirty?”

“Thirty?” I repeated as I continued down the stairs. “I’d probably fallen asleep.”

He remained smiling when I stopped right in front of him. “Is there something wrong? You looked worried right now.”

He shook his head. “Nothing for me to worry about today. I’m hungry. Let’s go, my sweet?”

I smiled. He’d set the mood successfully. “Okay,” I replied, feeling the warmth created by his intimate tone tingling down to my toes.

He took my hand again, and our fingers interlaced familiarly.

And we went out to our second day trying this thing called relationship.