by Duggan, K A
I fidget under his scrutiny “I didn’t want to just let myself in. I thought you might have changed your mind.”
His eyebrows shoot up “And you think I’d just keep your money?”
This isn’t going well. At least I got through the door yesterday. And his body on show isn’t helping me to think clearly. My eyes flick to his torso again and linger. What I’d give to touch it. I have a mini daydream about doing just that, my hand sliding over the firm ridges, before I’m snapped back to reality. Shit, I think my ovaries just had an attack of some kind, something similar to a heart attack, just a completely different part of the body. I know this because of the way they’re spasming and if they didn’t suffer some long term damage then some other internal organ is in dire need of medical attention. I press my legs together, the overwhelming urge to clench takes over and I feel myself blush as my body fails me in ways I not only never expected but have never experienced.
He clears his throat and when I snap my head up and look at him his eyes are twinkling with amusement. Damn. I wonder if he recognises the ovary distress look, it must happen regularly around him.
“I forgot the question.” I admit meekly and my blush deepens at being caught ogling.
“Something else capture your attention?”
Oh God. Ground open up and swallow me, please?
“No!” I protest too loudly as I shake my head “I just… I have a short attention span.” I wince at my answer. Now, he’s going to think I’m an idiot. I am an idiot. I mentally face palm. What the hell kind of confession was that? What a perfect time to be afflicted with mouth diarrhoea. He’s turned me from a former specimen of female togetherness into a drooling mess. If only he knew what his superpower is. Maybe he does.
“You’re easily distracted… hmm.” And he grins. At me. I’ve never swooned before so can’t be sure but I think I swoon on the spot.
I start fidgeting, my face is burning. And all I can think about is getting away from him. “Maybe I should come back another time?” I try but the breathy tone in my voice lets me down.
He grins as he takes this in “But, you’re here now.”
“You um, you obviously weren’t expecting me and aren’t ready for me.”
He leans against the doorframe, unashamedly, crossing his arms casually as he does so, as though he has all the time in the world to have this conversation regardless of the fact that he’s practically naked “I’m always ready.”
I swallow. Why does everything out of his mouth sound like an innuendo? Or is that just my dirty mind breaking free from the jail I cage it in? His words are perfectly chosen just to trip me up. I’m dying on the spot. Trying to talk and act naturally without touching him which is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to focus on. Harder than studying for exams. Harder than finding out truths have been lies. Harder than having him in my life from afar. And all those thoughts about hard has me moving my gaze from those glorious abs and down to his boxers.
He steps back a fraction indicating that I can come in but he purposely leaves only enough room so I have to brush past his body as I shimmy through. I enter with my back to his front and the second our bodies touch I have to close my eyes as I freeze in place. Then I’m moving quickly, dragging my suitcase on wheels along with me as if he’s going to bite and I put much needed distance between us.
“I’ll be fine if you want to go get dressed.” I breathe out. Please get dressed.
“I am dressed.” He teases as he closes the door and I gulp.
“Is this how you normally walk around your home?”
“Absolutely. I’m at home, it’s comfortable. Feel free to adopt the same clothing style… in the name of comfort, of course.”
“Of course.” I mumble and for the briefest of seconds, I question why him walking around barely clothed is a problem for me. Maybe I am insane.
“Does my body offend you? Because if so, I could be persuaded to cover up the hideousness.”
“What? No. It’s not that… it’s uh… um”
“You trip over your words a lot. It’s cute.”
My eyes narrow at his condescending comment Oh, no Ash I’m far from cute. I level my gaze at him “You’re very distracting and you know it. Teasing me is mean, and flaunting…” I wave my hand in the direction of him “… that is just, well you must know the effect … so I guess… that’s it.” I feel like I’ve just run a marathon. The strong stance I was trying to take over his cute comment failed miserably.
“I don’t know. You’ll have to help me understand. What effect do I have?” he leans against the counter casually crossing one ankle over the other.
“Please stop.” I whisper averting my eyes to the floor. I think I’m going to combust on the spot. I know he’s just playing with me but I can’t take it. I grip the handle of my suitcase like it’s a lifeline, a barrier to the heat he elicits.
Silence ensues. An awkward silence, in which time I contemplate walking out and giving up on this pipe dream. I’ve had daydreams about flirting between us, but the reality is so intense I need time to catch up to my runaway heart. I’ve never been a flirt. I don’t quite know the tricks that other girls do. I always kept to myself, kept my head down and studied like my life depended on it. I’m way out of my depth.
I hear him shuffling around but I stay in my spot. Staring at the floor, the only safe place to stare.
“Coffee?”
I look up and he’s wearing a grey t-shirt, the boxers are still on show but he’s at least made an attempt to cover up more, to try and make me feel comfortable and my breathing starts to regulate.
I nod and join him in his kitchen, taking a seat at his breakfast bar. Watching him move around collecting cups.
“One sugar please.” I tell him
“You know how I like mine.” A voice behind me says and once again I freeze. We’re not alone and the voice belongs to a female. Tears start to build and the will power it takes to contain them is painful. I flick my eyes up to Ash and he chews his bottom lip, his gaze roams over me and then over to the mystery woman behind me.
I stand up quickly making the legs of the seat scrape harshly on the floor “I think I’ll go and unpack instead.” I meet his intense gaze and hope he can see the begging in mine to just agree and not make me feel any more awkward.
“Okay.”
I release a huge breath, one of relief and despair and snatch up the handle of my suitcase, taking my frustration out on it, I yank expecting the wheels to glide along with my quick march, only it has other ideas as it catches against the breakfast bar chair leg, pulling me back and causing me to land on my arse. Silence follows, hearing a pin drop would be a piece of piss. I keep my back to them both, the tears that were building before now threatening to spill over. I spring off the floor and as Ash starts to ask if I’m okay I nod without glancing back and continue wandering to my room as quickly as I can, avoiding any eye contact with the woman.
Once in my room, I discard my case and slump against the closed door. My , tears burn the back of my eyelids but I refuse to let them fall. I’m beyond embarrassed. And not only because of my unladylike fall. I’m so stupid. I stay slouched in this position until my already sore bum goes numb and that’s the only reason I listen to my body’s command to move. Eventually, when I’m feeling slightly more composed, I press my ear against it to listen to them but all I can hear is muffled voices. Probably laughing at me. Which is just another reality check I needed. He had sex last night. Maybe all day long for all I know. And, why wouldn’t he? Just because I’ve built up a relationship between us in my head doesn’t mean it’s fact. It’s a delusion. I can finally see that and it’s a sobering thought. Explains why he was so perky and chipper this evening as opposed to his closed-off self I had the pleasure of meeting yesterday. He got laid.
What the hell do I do now? I debate unpacking my clothes but know I likely won’t be staying after today. I feel like I’ve been cheated on, only I can’t kick off, can’t yell at
him and demand to know why he’d hurt me this way. I have to keep pulling myself up and away from my imaginary life with him to the very real image hitting me in the face. I pull out my laptop instead and lay down on the bed with it resting on my propped legs. I browse Facebook. All the ‘friends’ I have are on here. There aren’t many but I can separate them from the real thing, so why can’t I do that with him?
After an hour or so of messing around on social media, his green light shows up, telling me he’s online. My name online is a play on my surname and my profile picture is a meme so he hasn’t seen a picture of me. I hover the cursor over his name in the chat section.
A message pops up… from him.
Ash: For a million pound would you eat a bowl of fried tarantula’s?
Despite myself, I smile. I have no idea how this game started between us but it’s one we play regularly. I smile because this game has pulled me from some of my darkest depths. I smile because it means he’s thinking of me, having no idea I’m right next door to him.
So close, yet still so far.
Me: Easy money. Give me something hard.
He messages back right away.
Ash: For a mil would you send me a pic?
I grin as I instantly type: I don’t do dick pics!
He starts typing back. I can’t wait for his reply.
Ash: I love how you don’t question if I’m good for the money. He adds laughing face emoji’s.
Me: I love how you don’t question if I really am a dude.
He doesn’t reply straight away so I start chewing my thumb, I really want to peek into the living room and watch him. Instead, I log in on my phone and take a selfie. I crop it so only my lips are visible and send it using the app. My picture pops up on the message section on my laptop and facebook says he’s typing back.
Ash: I don’t have a mil! Can I pay some other way?
Me: Yes! I’ll let you know when I’m ready to collect…
I close my laptop and tiptoe to the door. His overnight guest must be gone if he’s sat messaging me, I can’t hide forever so I pull it open cautiously and walk into the living room. He still isn’t fully dressed and is sprawled out on the sofa, laptop resting on his lap exactly the same as I was a few moments ago. He’s smiling at the screen and I hope it’s because of my messages. He looks up as I walk in and sits up patting the settee for me to sit next to him.
I sit at the opposite end and fiddle with my hands.
“I don’t even know your name.” he says
“It’s Feli… Fliss.”
“Nice to meet you Fliss. I guess from the ad you already know I’m Ash?”
I nod because my mouth won’t speak.
“So, can we start again? I’m sorry about earlier but can’t say that it will be the last time you’ll be faced with women, usually in the morning, you think you can handle that?”
I nod again, wringing my fingers even harder.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
My head snaps up. No beating around the bush, no easing in gently with his new flatmate, straight to the personal stuff. My mind automatically screams Yes, it’s you! But my mouth verbalises “What? Why?”
“Just wondering if you’ll be having a guy over regularly, we might have to set up a system.” He muses, his finger running over his lip as he suggests it. I stare at the movement.
“No, I don’t. I’m free.”
“Free instead of single? Interesting choice of words.” He grins
“They mean the same thing.” I protest
“Do they?” he challenges
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt, desperate to guide the conversation away from me but in my next breath also dreading the answer he might give.
He laughs. A real throaty belly laugh, as if I just asked the funniest question in the world. I feel my cheeks flame in embarrassment.
When he finishes he studies me, laughter lines etched around his eyes. He pauses as though he’s weighing up his answer. When he speaks it’s to ask a question, “Why would I need a girlfriend?”
“Well, no-one needs one, but most people want a significant other.”
“Why?” he frowns
“Why not?” I shoot back
He grins “I think I’m going to enjoy debating with you, Fliss.”
“I think you’ll be disappointed, Ash.”
His eyes flicker with amusement and I realise I’m enjoying this exchange as much as he appears to be. This is the part of him I get to experience online and now I’m seeing flashes of it in person.
“You remind me of someone.” He says wistfully
“Someone annoying?” I joke
“I wouldn’t say annoying but definitely frustrating.”
“I’m glad I’m making such a good first impression.”
“Your first impression was fine, the second was even better.” He flashes a grin at me again and I squirm inside when I notice he has dimples. Lord help me. Not dimples.
“Okay, well… good. I guess I’m going to go to bed.”
“Already?”
“Yes, I uh… I don’t sleep very well so try and get an early start to make the most of as many hours as I can.” Plus, if I stay any longer my tongue is going to end up either licking your cheek or being just plain stuck in those indentations.
“Let me know if you need me.” He says to my retreating back, and I know if I turned around he’d be wearing that smug grin again.
Felicity
Current mood – Mortified
Regret level – 10/10
I wake up the following day and stretch out as is my morning custom. I slept well considering I haven’t slept in a single bed since I was a child. I roll over and quickly switch from content to disoriented, not because I’m in a new place but an even newer place.
This is not my new bedroom.
For starters I’m in a double bed, my new room has a single and my room, hopefully, doesn’t smell manly, this one does. It doesn’t matter that the scent smells divine, I’m on high alert as I convince myself to open my eyes and when I do I jump out of my skin as Ash is sitting next to me, fully clothed, holding out a mug of something steaming.
Just staring. At me.
I automatically pull the covers up to my chin and as I do I’m horrified to realise I’m naked. Completely and utterly starkers. He doesn’t speak but the corners of his lips tip up in a supressed smile. His gorgeous eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of secrets only he’s privy to. Has he been watching me sleep?
“Take it.” He says, pushing the mug towards me “I won’t bite.”
This is a dream. It has to be. I mean it’s the most logical explanation.
“Are you actually awake this time?” he asks
“Huh?”
He clicks his fingers in front of me and I blink rapidly “Fliss, are you awake?”
“Yes.” I answer in annoyance “Why are you being weird?”
He bursts out laughing, the mug I still haven’t taken from him shaking along with him.
“You win on the weird front, Fliss. Was my bed comfortable?”
Oh Shit! Ignorance is all I have to offer. I clutch the quilt to me tighter, my knuckles turning white from the death grip I have on the only thing hiding my modesty. “Why am I in your bed? Did you drug me or something?” I accuse only half seriously.
“Or something.” He mutters, his expression changing from playful to pissed off.
“Can you ever give a straight answer. What the hell is going on? Why am I naked?” Please for the love of all things holy tell me he hasn’t seen me naked. Tell me I didn’t have sex with the guy of my dreams and not remember it.
“Yeah, that surprised me too.”
“Ash!” I yell impatiently even though I already know the answer.
He takes a deep breath as he ponders how to tell fill me in on how this mortifying situation came about. “Do you have a tendency for sleepwalking at all?”
I groan at the confirmation as I bury myse
lf beneath the covers. I’ll never shake the hue of embarrassment that floods my entire body. Avoidance is all I can rely on. I’ll hide until the problem goes away.
Hiding.
In Ash’s bed.
Naked.
Even in sleep, my mind, my body took me to him. Betrayed by my own traitorous body. Before, back home I could indulge in my dreams, secure in the knowledge that he was far away. Unobtainable. Of all the problems I thought I’d encounter by coming here, my sleepwalking wasn’t one of them. It never factored. But then I was never supposed to move in with him. It was truly the least of my worries and concerns but right now with it smacking me in the face, giving me no alternative but to confront it I want to become invisible. Like I’ve always been. I want to be back in my lonely cocoon where humiliating situations such as this would never come to fruition.
“You know, Fliss, you’ve got some nerve presuming I did something wrong. I’m the innocent that was molested while I slept.”
Yep. I’m never coming out. I feel myself sink below the covers again in complete humiliation. Is it possible to die from embarrassment? Because it seems like a good get out clause at this moment. I’ll just die here slowly, painfully.
The top of the covers are yanked from my death grip and my face exposed. “No point hiding now. I’ve seen all there is to see.” He grins.
My hands fly to my face, covering my eyes, “Oh God. What did we do?”
“We?! Let’s get something straight right now. If something had happened between us, you’d most definitely remember.”
“So, we… we never…” I gulp when he just stares at me as I struggle to say the words.
“We never what, Fliss?” he smirks, silently daring me to finish that sentence, so I change direction instead as I press my eyelids closed “What did I do, Ash?” I plead.
“Let’s see. I woke up to my naked roommate leaning over me as if she was ready to smother me. Not in my top ten of ways to be woken I might add. When I tried to cover up your modesty like the saintly gent I am you shrieked at me like a banshee and then proceeded to try and rescue me from my evidently killer bed. You’re quite strong, Fliss.” He takes a sip from the mug “I guess you could say you wrestled me to the ground, then covered me with your body…” he air quotes with his fingers “… to save me. From what, you wouldn’t say. Then you climbed into my bed and started snoring.”