The Muse's Undoing

“Is this what you pictured?” he asks softly.

I let out half a laugh. “Not at all. I mean, maybe in my dreams. In reality, I felt like I’d be lucky if we got to have lunch together a couple times a week.”

“That’s not what it seemed like when you got back,” Matthew says.

I know what he means. I was all over him for the jump. “Everything changed when I saw you again,” I admit quietly.

“For me, too,” he says.

Impulsively, I stretch my neck out and press a quick kiss to his mouth. His hand grips mine as I sit back with a heavy breath. “Did you mean to do that?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Can you be out?”

Fuck. Here’s a perfect sign I’m a mess. But I refuse to let his hand go even as I say, “I’m not sure. I could run it by the network.” I frown and shake my head at myself. “That’s a terrible answer. I’m sorry I said that.”

“Why?”

“Well, because there are plenty of queer people on the air, and what the fuck do I care what they think? I have an appearance clause in my contract, but I don’t have a sexuality clause.”

“An appearance clause?” he laughs. “Like what? If you gain weight or something?”

“It’s actually about my hair,” I say, grinning prematurely at the mockery I’m about to be subject to.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the clause?”

“That I have to get approval for anything other than a trim.”

He laughs softly. “I want that clause, too.”

“You want hair cut approval?”

“Fuck yeah. I love your hair. I’m crazy about it actually.”

“I thought you were gonna make fun of me.”

“I would never joke about your hair.”

I flash him a smile.

“What about being my boyfriend?” he asks.

“I thought we already had the monogamy talk once already.”

“Not the same thing,” he says, his expression more serious.

“Yes, I want to be your boyfriend. Your one and only,” I say.

“Good. Be patient with me, though,” he says. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I like that,” I say. “We’ll figure it out together.”

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