Free Infidelity by Stacey May Fowles Page A

embarrassed.
    â€œWell, some people like to have someone to take care of, I guess.”
    â€œIt’s funny, because as soon as we met it was a given we were going to be a couple. It was never questioned.”
    Ronnie chose not to pursue this. Talking about Tamara made her uncomfortable, despite the fact that she was endlessly curious.
    â€œSo. Are you going to sell me out, Charlie?”
    â€œYou mean for literature? Unlikely. I prefer having a secret.”
    An uncomfortable silence settled between them, one Charlie chose to interrupt with an uncomfortable question.
    â€œSo your mother was a drunk?”
    â€œYeah. My mom liked the bottle,” she said, staring into her coffee cup to avoid the eye contact, thankful they’d managed to stray from talk of his wife. “I think I inherited that from her. I try to keep it under control. Aaron helped me with that.”
    â€œHe doesn’t like your drinking?”
    â€œNot really that. He’s not a substitute father figure or anything. He just lives clean. Goes to the gym. Is obsessed with food. I think he views food the same way I view hair.”
    â€œHow’s that?” Charlie asked.
    â€œIt’s a way to be in control of things.”
    â€œLike writing.”
    â€œI suppose.”
    Over endless cups of coffee Charlie learned Ronnie had spent her life pushing limits . . . she drank early, did drugs early, had sex early. As a teenager she followed a band around the U.S. for a summer, was strip searched by U.S. border guards, got in a fist fight over a boy in Boston, watched a friend get stabbed in the shoulder with a penknife in New York, only to end up on a pay phone in Vermont, asking her very worried mother for some money so she could get on a bus and go home.
    â€œRonnie. Your life. I feel so . . .”
    â€œFamous?”
    â€œStop it. I was going to say inadequate.”
    Ronnie smiled. “I was happy and loved and don’t regret my youth at all. I had the ability to be reckless and careless and enjoy life.”
    â€œUnlike me. Afraid of everything.”
    â€œPeople like you better when you’re afraid,” she said mournfully. “More coffee?”
    Charlie nodded despite the fact that he knew the caffeine was making him anxious. He watched as she got up from the table and walked toward the counter to request a couple more refills.
    When she sat down again he stared at her intensely. “I think I may be falling in love with you, you know.”
    â€œHow do you know?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s just a feeling I have. I think you may bring out a masterpiece in me.”
    â€œThat’s what love is?” Ronnie laughed at this, but noticed immediately that Charlie appeared to be serious.
    â€œI mean it. I could write an entire book about you. For you.”
    â€œNo one’s ever written anything for me but a prescription.”
    â€œOh, that can’t be true. I’m sure there are boys who you’ve been in love with who’ve got some Veronica poetry hidden in a desk drawer somewhere.”
    â€œActually, I don’t think I’ve ever really been in love. I mean, I’ve probably loved a hundred times, you know? But the kind of love that was the moment, the drama of it.”
    â€œSometimes I think you should be the writer,” Charlie said.
    She laughed. “No. Far too much commitment.”
    â€œSo commitment’s not your thing either?”
    â€œI was never really good at relationships. I tended to mistrust anyone who fell for me. Their love made them boring.”
    â€œWhat about Aaron?”
    â€œWell, eventually I got things together. I went to hairdressing school and then I met Aaron at a bar when I was out with my girlfriends one night. Ladies night.”
    â€œOne of those, eh?”
    â€œNo. Well. Yes,” she laughed, blushing slightly.
    â€œNothing wrong with that.”
    â€œWell, there used to be nothing wrong with