Eliza
I lie on the couch and hold the remote up to turn off the television. I glance at my phone. It's 11:50 p. m. I'm beat. I've been waiting up for Nathan.
He said he was working late but this is really late. I hope everything's okay. I keep going over last night and the way we were with each other-the intimacy between us.
Brooke's words from Saturday night keep coming back to me.
Why do you think Nathan has a bachelor pad?
Is he having sex with someone right now?
Uneasiness fills me, and I frown at the notion. I climb from the couch and drag myself into the bathroom. I stare at my reflection as I clean my teeth.
I'm rattled about what happened between us, trying to decipher if this is all in my head. I'm unusually clingy. I feel close to him, and yet, miles away. I hate that he's not here. I can't fall asleep without his hand on my behind.
I shouldn't depend on him so much… or at all actually.
One day he's going to meet someone and never come back and where will that leave you?
The thought of him leaving and never coming back makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Oh God, this situation is worse than I thought. The girls are right; I need to get over myself.
I must be imagining this entire thing, nothing happened between us last night.
It was a figment of my imagination, I'm horny and I'm lonely and perhaps by me making the realisation that I am in a rut and have given up on men, it's making me cling onto him. Of course, that's it. The girls are right, this is all just a mix up of feelings, nothing more and nothing less. The sooner I go on a date with someone the better. I'm way too dependent on Nathan.
Although, I can't even admit this to myself properly but I feel like I might have feelings for him. But that's ridiculous.
It's just because I'm lonely and I want to feel loved.
And I know that Nathan loves me even though it's not the same kind of love.
I'm mixing it up and getting all confused.
It doesn't mean anything.
As soon as I start dating I can stop imagining all this business between him and me. It's all in my head. He would be horrified if he knew what I was thinking.
I turn off the light and climb into bed to lie in the darkness for a while. My mind is spinning at a million miles per hour.
Where is he now?
He's never this late. Maybe he isn't coming over tonight.
That's okay-he doesn't have to-he's not my boyfriend or anything.
I toss and turn, and I punch my pillow, annoyed that it bothers me. Half an hour later, I hear the key turn in the door, and relief fills me.
He's here.
Now, I'll finally get some sleep.
I hear his keys go onto the sideboard and then the shower run. A few moments later, Nathan walks into the bedroom with a white towel around his waist.
"Hi." I smile up at him.
"Hi."
"You're home late."
He sits down beside me on the edge of the bed. "Yeah." He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, and we stare at each other, despite the darkness.
The air between us feels weird again. There's a spark… a crackle. Something's different.
What the fuck is it?
His dark eyes hold mine and he rubs his thumb over my cheekbone as he studies me.
I feel like he wants to say something, but he doesn't.
I put my hand over his against my cheek. "Nathan, what is it?"
"Nothing." He gets up in a rush and snatches his boxer shorts. Then, he storms into the bathroom to get changed.
I lie in the darkness with questions buzzing through my brain. I can't hold my tongue any longer. There shouldn't be any secrets between us. We are just friends. Moments later, he comes back into the room and switches his bedside lamp on.
"Why are you so late?" I ask.
"I had something going on." He gets into bed and picks up his book from the nightstand.
"Oh." I look over at him as he turns the page. "Like what?"
He lies on his side toward me and flicks through the pages to get to the place where he left off.
"What did you have going on?" I repeat when he doesn't answer.
"I was working."
"Oh." I roll over toward him and watch him for a moment. "I thought you must have had a date."
His eyes lift over his book to meet mine, and then he raises his eyebrow before his attention goes back to his book.
"Are you seeing anyone?" I ask.
"What?" He frowns as if I'm a major inconvenience.
"Are you seeing anyone?" I repeat. "I mean, I know you haven't had sex for a while, but are you dating?"
"Why do you ask?"
I sit up. "Because you never tell me anything about your personal life."
He turns the page as if annoyed, his eyes don't leave the page. "Stop being nosey."
"Well, are you?" He flicks the page but ignores my question. "I think we need to start being more open about our personal lives, don't you? It's weird that we spend all our time together and talk about everything except our relationships."
His eyes meet mine. "It's almost midnight, Eliza, why are we talking about this?"
"We aren't talking." I lie down in a huff. "I'm talking and you're dodging my questions."
He exhales heavily and keeps reading.
"Well, I am." I huff.
"You're what?"
"I'm beginning to date again."
He drops his book. "What?"
"I've decided that I'm ready to date again."
He glares at me. "What brought this on?"
I put my hands above my head. "I don't know. I miss sex, I guess."
He turns the page angrily. "Why don't you go on Tinder and arrange for two guys to double bang you?" he says sarcastically. "Better yet, get one of them to film it and upload it to YouPorn."
"Yeah, I might." I roll my eyes. It's a typical Nathan answer. Smartass. "A threesome has always been on my bucket list, actually. I may as well start ticking things off now that I'm thirty."
"You're thirty-one. And your bucket list must be riveting."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I frown. "Sex isn't on your bucket list?"
"No. If I want sex, I have sex. I most definitely don't have bucket list sex. Jesus."
Fuck he's annoying, I roll over so that my back is to him. "Sorry, I'm not as cool as you and all your groupies, Dr. Mercer."
"You want a date, I'll get you a fucking date." He gets up in a rush and storms over to my underwear drawer. He ruffles through it and digs out my vibrator. "Here he is." He eyes it suspiciously as he holds it up. "Although I'm not quite sure what this pissant thing would do."
"Size doesn't count, Nathan." I snap. "Not everyone wants a donkey dick, you know?"
"Does it even touch the sides?"
My mouth falls open in horror and I get up and snatch it from him, throw it back in my drawer, and slam it shut. "I'll have you know, BOB touches all my sides because I happen to have a very tiny vagina." I get into bed in a huff. "Not that it's any of your business."
He gets into bed beside me. I turn my back to him and he picks up his book.
"You're annoying me," I say.
"Well, you're annoying me," he snaps.
I roll my eyes, and after a while, he puts his hand on my hip, our sleeping position. Relaxation instantly begins to roll through me.
"Goodnight, Eliza."
"Goodnight, Nathan."
"Goodnight, Tiny," he says.
I smile against my pillow. He has a name for my vagina now?
"Goodnight," I squeak in a mouse voice.
He chuckles and pats my hip. "Go to sleep."
* * *
I'm walking down the corridor toward the elevator when I hear someone call from behind me, "Eliza!"
I turn and see the guy from Saturday night. I'm taken aback. Shit, what was his name?
"Hi."
"Samuel," he prompts as he falls into step beside me. "Samuel Phillips. We met on Saturday night."
"Yes, I remember." I smile. Oh, he's cute… I don't remember him being this good-looking. "You work here?" I ask.
"Yes, I'm an anaesthetist."
"Oh." I only vaguely remember our conversation from the other night. "Did you tell me that already?" I frown.
"Yes." He gives me a sexy smile. "In great length, actually."
I wince. "Gosh, my apologies. Those cocktails went straight to my head. I'm so embarrassed."
He chuckles. "That's okay."