And for the next three weeks, they lived in their own cozy world. Whenever she wasn't working, she was with him. She spent the night at his place more frequently than she did in her own house. But the one thing she no longer was was lonely. She felt as though she were living a fairy-tale existence. She had never known anyone like him. He was attentive to her every need, kind, thoughtful, and funny. And he continued to be very conscientious about using protection. She suggested to him one day that they get AIDS tests, to reassure each other, so they no longer had to, when it was safe for her. But he said it was just as easy to use condoms. And thinking about it later that day somehow set off a bell in her head, and that night she asked him about it again.
“If we get AIDS tests, we don't have to use anything,” she said cautiously. It seemed so much simpler to her.
“It's always a good idea to use protection,” he said wisely, as he came back from the bathroom and snuggled next to her again. He was in extraordinarily good shape, and had a splendid body. And his sexual skills were beyond impressive. But in spite of that she decided to ask him the question that had popped into her mind that afternoon, although she already knew the answer, or assumed she did.
She propped herself up on one elbow in bed and smiled at him. “You don't sleep with anyone else, do you? Now, I mean, since we've been together.”
He looked at her and smiled, and traced her nipples with one finger, which aroused her. “That's a pretty big question.”
“I assume it has a simple answer,” she said softly.
“I'm assuming that this is an exclusive arrangement.” She had heard Meg use the term.
“
“What does that mean?” She could feel a knot form in her stomach.
“I haven't slept with anyone else since I've been with you,” he said, as he looked at her, and she watched him. “But it could happen. It's awfully early in the day for us to make a commitment to each other.”
“I don't expect a commitment,” she said quietly. “But I do expect to be exclusive, or monogamous, or whatever you want to call it.”
“As long as we use condoms, that's not a problem. I'm not going to put you at risk, Paris, I wouldn't do that.”
“But you're not going to be monogamous either?”
“I can't promise you that. I don't want to lie to you. We're adults. Anything can happen.”
“Are you reserving the right to see other women?” Paris looked stunned. It hadn't even occurred to her that he might, or that he would want to.
“You don't leave me time for that,” he said lightly. But he traveled. And there were plenty of nights when she had to work. She had never expected his answer, and she looked deeply upset as she sat up in bed and looked down at him, lying next to her. It had never dawned on her until then that this was not an exclusive arrangement. “You never said that was an issue for you,” he said, looking somewhat irritated that the subject had come up.
“I didn't think I had to. I just assumed that was what you wanted too. You said this was special and different.”
“It is special. But I'm not going to be put on a leash. We're not married. And we both know how little that means.”
“No, I don't,” she said plaintively. “I don't know anything of the sort. I was faithful to my husband, and he was faithful to me for more than twenty years of our marriage. And that's beside the point.” She looked sad suddenly. Reality had hit her. This wasn't marriage—it was dating. “I don't want to share you.”
“You don't own me,” he said, sounding angry.
“I don't know that I want to. But I do want to know that while you're sleeping with me, however long that is, you won't sleep with other people.”
“It's premature in the relationship to do that, Paris. We're adults, we're free. You might meet someone you want to sleep with.”
“Not if I'm involved with you, and if that happens, you'll be the first to know.” She was sitting ramrod straight now.
“That's noble of you,” he said practically, “but I'm not going to make you the same promise. Things happen, even if you don't plan them.”
“Would you tell me afterward if it did?”
“Not necessarily. I don't owe you that. Not after six weeks. In six months maybe, depending on how things go between us. But that's a long way off. We're not there yet.”
“Is there a rule book on this? Because if there is, I want to see it. Are there timetables about what happens when, like what happens at six weeks, and then what you can expect at three months, or six, or a year? Who makes these rules?”
“It depends on the arrangement between two people,” he said comfortably. He was not going to let her pressure him. It bothered him that she even tried to. Exclusivity was not part of the deal. For him.
“And what arrangement do we have?” Paris asked, looking straight at him.
