To my surprise, she doesn't stir at my question. "Not like you," She says simply.
                          
"Why do you ask?" She wonders, keeping her head easily against my chest.
                          
"I don't know," I lie. I know exactly why I'm so curious. "I just wonder sometimes... What type of people you interact with and what you talk about. You're is... Fascinating," I divulge.
                          
At this, she sits up in place and stares down at me curiously. She doesn't look mad, just confused as to why I'm prodding so much. "You know, Camila... I'm really not supposed to talk about these kinds of things with you, or anybody, for that matter," She says lightly, not wanting to say it in a way that would hurt my feelings.
                          
"Oh, I know - I just... I was just thinking out loud, I guess." I can feel how uncomfortable the room is getting now as the silence sits between us.
                          
As if she, too, is sensing it, she leans down and plants a kiss on my lips, breaking the tension with ease. I smile at her effort as she dismounts the bed.
                          
"I'm going to use your bathroom," She informs me, sauntering off.
                          
I really wish we could talk more about her job. I don't want to seem like some crazy, jealous girlfriend. I haven't even been given the title! We aren't anything, as far as I know, besides... Friends? Booty calls? What are we? This whole thing is impotently confusing. We have yet to establish any sort of title and I'm here worrying over what other responsibilities her job title entails. Surely she's not hooking up with her other clients, right? The simple thought of her even discussing sex with her other clients makes me uncomfortable.
                          
I think back to the night when I first met her. She made me feel so comfortable, yet so uneasy at the same time. She kissed me in the first five minutes of our session. She didn't even think twice of it. I remember her joining me on the couch and trailing her hand along my thigh, so easily. As if she thought nothing of it. At the time, I thought nothing of it, either. I thought it was a part of her job... I thought kissing me was a part of her job. I thought touching me that night was a part of her job. My heart breaks in this instance. What makes me different from all of her other clients? Something, surely...
                          
I see a head peak in my door. "How do you not look like shit, right now?" Normani questions, taking in my rested features. Hers, on the other hand, were rough. She looked, accurately so, like she had crashed after a night of one-too- many drinks.
                          
"I slept well and I didn't drink half a gallon of Vodka," I retorted, watching her face fall in shame.
                          
She looks as though she's about to retreat back into the living room when she hears the toilet flush from my adjacent bathroom. She nods to the door, silently asking who the disturbance was from.
                          
"Dinah showed up last night after you guys passed out," I tell her. I see her eyebrows raise questionably. "What?" I ask her.
                          
"Nothing..." She says, shaking her head. "Didn't know they held sessions that late at night." 
                          
"It wasn't a session," I counter, almost angrily. After having witnessed Normani speak about her disapproval of our 'relationship' yesterday afternoon, it upset me to find that she wasn't joking. She had asked yesterday if I knew that I wasn't 'actually supposed to sleep with' my sex therapist and I figured she was screwing with me, I shook it off.
                          
"Whatever you say, Mila," She shrugs, listening in the bathroom as the sink continues running. She lowers her voice. "I just think it's a little unlikely that you're the only one she's sleeping with. It is her job, after all." 
                          
"It is not her job to sleep with people, Mani. You're seriously being ridiculous right now," I snap at her, keeping my voice low so as not to let Dinah hear us. "Did she tell you that?" She asks inquisitively.