by Claire Adams
And then, she did another thing I didn’t expect. She began to cry. She leaned against the wall, letting the tears stream down her beautiful face. I wanted to make her feel better. I wanted to make the crying stop, and it wasn’t because I found it annoying or couldn’t handle it (like most men apparently feel about crying women); it was that I didn’t want to see her sad. Every second that she cried physically hurt me.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Hannah,” I said. I approached her slowly, expecting her to retreat. But she let me put my hand on her shoulder, which I laid there as reassuringly as I possibly could.
“It’s just… guys…”
“Me?”
She looked up at me, sighed, and looked down at her feet. “No. It’s nothing. I’m so sorry I’m crying like this; now you probably think I’m crazy.”
“Not at all, I just don’t want you to be upset.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise.”
I began to wonder about what happened between her and a guy. I knew that, clearly, she was thinking about something specific, but it wasn’t going to come out in words. I was able to deduce that someone had cheated on her. I let go of her shoulder and backed off. She smiled.
“Well… I’m going to bed,” she said. “But, if I may offer a suggestion… get a new strategy. Your time is running out, and your body isn’t going to get you all the way there. Step it up, boy.”
Then, she winked at me. She closed her door and went out into the night.
I went off to the guest room, replaying bits of everything that had just occurred in my head. Not only had no woman ever talked to me that way before, but I couldn’t recall me ever talking to a woman the way I just talked to her. It also dawned on me at that moment that I was thinking of her not as a girl, but as a woman.
As I drifted to sleep, my thoughts were of Hannah… of things I could only speculate on, of her body… I thought about her spirit and how I felt like I really understood her. I not only understood her, but I was growing to really like her.
I chose not to linger on what I thought, and I allowed sleep to take me.
Chapter 9
Hannah
I woke up to a monster hangover, the worst one I had in a while. I called up Amy and Lisa to see if they wanted to get brunch. Amy didn’t return my calls or texts, but Lisa was up and uncharacteristically peppy for a Saturday morning. We decided to go out to one of our favorite diners for brunch.
The diner was almost completely full, packed with others who had partied the previous night. As the diner nursed its collective hangover, Lisa and I had our attentions mostly on our phones. She was wearing sunglasses, and I was wearing the same blouse that I passed out in the night before.
“How do you deal with not being in a relationship?” I asked Lisa.
She looked at me, perplexed. I evaluated the words that I used and realized how I may have come across poorly.
“Huh?” said Lisa.
“I don’t mean… I just… I’m used to being in a relationship. Whenever one’s ended, I usually get into a new one shortly after. Being single is not something I know much about. Has… have no guys ever wanted to be in a relationship with you?”
“Oh yeah, lots,” she confirmed.
“Okay… why don’t you try? I’m not asking in like a judgy way, I mean… I’m sorry, my fucking head is killing me. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“It’s fine,” laughed Lisa. “I don’t know… I guess I’m just not interested in monogamy. Sometimes I find guys who are down for a semi-regular casual thing, and they get it. Sometimes they catch feelings… and sometimes even I catch feelings! It all depends, you know?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled as I half-heartedly scanned the menu.
“It’s not like I’m about ‘avoiding relationships,’” said Lisa. “It’s more about… trying out different men and seeing which ones fit best. Think of it like shopping, or think about it like this: do you only want to have one thing off that entire menu for your entire life without trying other entrees?”
“No.”
“There you go. And I don’t sleep with every single guy I’m interested in. Sometimes sex happens, sometimes it doesn’t. Right now, I’m just having fun. If a hot guy at Bauman’s wants to buy me a drink, I’m going to let him.”
“You don’t sound nervous or afraid of the future at all,” I said to her.
“That’s because I’m not. I live in the present, Hannah, and you should too. Everything works out eventually. We’re both going to be okay. You and me.”
We patted each other’s hands and returned most of our attentions to the menu.
“So, was lover-boy showing off his body for you when you got back home wasted?” Lisa, eyebrows raised.
“As a matter of fact, he was,” I admitted. “That’s his only move.”
“So, you’re really not going to sleep with him?”
“No. I liked your idea last night. I’m going to wait until the deadline and then once we hit midnight and he loses the bet, then maybe I’ll do it.”
“Wow! That’s so unlike you!”
And really, it was. I knew if I were to give myself to Sawyer, he would be the first man I slept with without a pretense of commitment or the possibility for love.
“I don’t want to be one of those girls who just sleeps with guys because I’m attracted to them,” I said. “He is… almost indescribably hot—”
“Hmm, maybe I need to meet Sawyer!”
“No, you don’t,” I interjected quickly.
We laughed. We looked around, scanning the crowd to see if our waiter was coming. He was nowhere in sight, and the mass of hungry hungovers was a bit overwhelming.
“I’m letting him stay with me,” I continued. “I’m going to be the one in control—you’re right. Honestly, I don’t get why he hasn’t just asked me out to eat or something. What you and I are doing right now? Even just taking me here for brunch would show me that he actually wants to get away from the apartment and the beds in it.”
“Do you want him to ask you out?”
“I want him to show some effort if he’s really serious about wanting to sleep with me—any kind of effort. How hard is it to just take off your shirt? I could do that right now.”
“Mmm, yeah girl, show me those tits,” said Lisa jokingly.
“It’s just amazing to me how he’s gotten so many girls to go home with him when he looks so clueless so often,” I said. “I guess people really will fuck someone just because they’re pretty. Which is pretty sad when you think about it.”
“So, do you like him at all?”
“What do you mean?”
“You sound like you’ve been giving him a lot of thought.”
“Well… yeah. He’s living in my apartment!”
“I get that, but I was just wondering if you liked him at all. Like, other than his body, do you like him enough that you’d want to maybe date him?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to know yet. He is sweet and considerate. We actually had a real conversation last night before I passed out. I don’t remember all of it, but the parts I do remember, he really seemed concerned about me when I started getting sad.”
Lisa was looking at me, a smile slowly forming. Her eyes were darting all around.
“You know… I do kind of like him,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. The whole situation is still weird! Think about it: he’s my neighbor, a guy who sleeps with just about any woman who looks in his direction. He gets kicked out, asks me to stay the night and move his stuff in before the landlord kicks him out, and then, on that same day, he was already trying to fuck me. Even if I did… ‘like him,’ I can’t like him. He’s not a guy who I would date. He’s not someone who I could share a meaningful life with.”
“You should sleep with him now,” blurted Lisa.
I dropped my menu so that I could see Lisa unobstructed.
“What was that?”
“You want him, he wants you; why wai
t?”
“You’re starting to sound like him,” I informed her. “What the hell are you talking about? What happened to waiting for the deadline? Why the sudden shift?”
Lisa looked down and sighed. “I was drunk, Han. I was saying whatever popped into my head. I still think that’s a good idea. But an even better idea would be to just go get him now.”
“So I should give him the power?”
“It’s not about power; it’s about pleasure,” she emphasized. “So, you lose the bet. Big deal. It’s like you said: he’s living with you. You’re already in control by virtue of existing.”
I didn’t think her logic was without reason.
“Sleep with him,” she insisted. “Give in to what you want. You do want him, right?”
I decided not to lie to her because I could barely lie to myself. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then, get back to your place and get yours!” she said. “You’re wasting time.”
We sipped on our drinks, still seeing no sign of our waiter. I thought again about what sleeping with Sawyer might be like. I was unsure of what to anticipate because I hadn’t known him long enough to know whether he could be as smooth a lover as he was a talker.
“I don’t know…” I said finally. “I just don’t think I can have a one-night stand. It might be for you, but it’s not for me.”
Lisa gave me an insulted look. “It’s not like I’m loose or anything.”
“I know that,” I said, immediately regretting my words. “I’m not trying to be mean—”
“You’re not doing a good job.”
“I’m just saying we have different personalities, that’s all. You are lovely Lisa, and I am… horrible Hannah; I don’t know.”
“No, you’re hot Hannah, don’t underestimate yourself,” she said. “Don’t sleep with him, then. Hot Hannah can do whatever she wants. You just have to ask yourself what it is you really want.”
Lisa’s terrifying truth was something I had managed to avoid for most of Sawyer’s stay. I spent the remainder of brunch wondering about what I wanted with Sawyer.
That night, I decided to join him in the living room. Fortunately, he was wearing a shirt this time (although no shorts), and we had plenty of popcorn to snack on as we took our spots on the couch and put on a movie. After our conversation the previous night, I felt like engaging in something relaxing that required little energy.
I thought about the few times Sawyer said he didn’t like being in relationships. On the one hand, it was easy for me to relate to those feelings since I was feeling somewhat bitter about relationships after my last one.
But, for as little as I knew what I wanted in terms of my arrangement with Sawyer, I did know a lot about myself. I knew that if we were to hook up, I would probably develop feelings for him more intense than just “kind of liking him.” I did wonder if the sex with him would be different because he wasn’t a boyfriend and that maybe I wouldn’t develop feelings because I would go in expecting nothing.
Each time our hands met whenever we’d both reach for the same handful of popcorn, I would look at him. Sometimes we would smile at each other, and behind his smile, I thought I was beginning to see glimpses of a man who was interested in me in more ways than just someone who might accept his “carnal currency.”
Other than our buttery hands occasionally grazing, the closest we got to physical contact was when he put his arm around me. It felt nice, and I didn’t want his arm to go away. I was tempted to lean my head into his powerful chest, but I knew that taking my time remained crucial.
Every time I would try and refocus my attention on the movie, I knew it was futile. I knew less about the movie than I did about my feelings for Sawyer. After an hour and a half went by, I realized I was ready to go back into my room and call it a night. The longer his arm stayed on my shoulder, the braver he became. He would occasionally rub my shoulder or lightly graze my hair. I liked it, and I knew that if I let him keep at it, it was going to lead to something. Since I still wasn’t sure about what I wanted, I couldn’t afford to even kiss him. If he had moved his strong hands to any of my erogenous zones…
Thankfully, the movie was just over an hour and a half in duration. I used the movie’s end credits as my means to escape. We said goodnight, and I quickly scurried back into my room. I leaned against the door, tempted to throw it back open, go back out, and give in to what he so desperately wanted.
Instead, I fell onto my bed, frustrated and antsy, and sat in the dark more aroused than I had been in months.
Chapter 10
Sawyer
I arrived to work on Monday morning with a man’s expensive, new motorcycle sitting in the garage waiting for me.
I went to work repairing the beast. My mind and imagination were far away from the garage and the man’s bike, however.
I had been getting more face-time in with Hannah, but she was proving to me what I was trying to prove to her: she didn’t lie. She was not sleeping with me, and based on her mixed signals and words, I was beginning to actually believe that I could lose the bet. I still had nineteen days until the deadline, but I was amazed that she hadn’t given herself to me yet.
My sexual frustration was slowly morphing into total frustration, and I feared the motorcycle I was working on might suffer because I couldn’t snap out of it. I kept taking breaks during what should have been a two-hour procedure. As the end of that second hour approached, and I still wasn’t finished, the other crewmembers began to get worried.
Eventually, while I drank from a bottle of water, taking a break, Dave came up to me, visibly concerned.
“What’s going on, man?” he asked me. “What’s taking so long with the motorcycle? You should be changing that Camry’s oil by now.”
“Fuck the Camry, and fuck changing the oil. Put Brennan on that,” I said.
“Look, man, I don’t mind the cursing, but could you at least try to keep it down to at least one ‘fuck’ per sentence?” he asked.
“For you, Dave, I’ll do just that.”
“Good, I appreciate it. Now, seriously, what’s going on? You look like you’ve got the devil inside you.”
“Maybe you’re deflecting a bit, man. I don’t have anything in me but water, good food, and protein. No devil over here.”
“You’re distracted,” he elaborated. “Your mind’s not on work.”
“You’ve got that right,” I concurred.
“So, tell me, what’s going on?”
I sighed, attempting to choose my words correctly and carefully. “Well, you know the girl who I’ve been crashing with for the past several days? We still haven’t slept together, and it fucking sucks because I know she wants it and I know she knows that I want it, and yet… she’s playing the game brutally.”
“How do you know she wants to sleep with you?” he asked me. “She said so?”
“Well… no, but she says she loves my body. She’s felt me up a little.”
“How do you know she wants to sleep with you?” he asked me again.
“I just know,” I muttered in frustration. “We both know vehicles, Dave. And the way you know about fishing? Well, that’s how I know women!”
“Maybe you aren’t the master you think you are, Sawyer,” said an amused Dave.
“Don’t question me with women,” I said sternly. “Whenever I want a woman, I get that fucking woman. I’m just killing myself here trying to figure out how.”
Dave licked his lips, obviously holding back on whatever critical opinions he had.
“I haven’t even been to the gym in four days,” I continued. “I haven’t even wanted to kickbox, and kickboxing is another one of my things! This woman’s got me so pent up, I can barely focus on anything. All I want is to feel how wet that pussy is.”
“Dear God in Heaven,” proclaimed Dave.
“Right, that’s what I want her to say after I get going down there,” I said, laughing at my own juvenile humor.
“So why don’t you hit
up some other girl to deal with your issue?” Dave asked me. “If you’re just horny and want to get laid.”
“I know I could do that,” I replied. “I’ve thought about doing that so many times, Dave, I can’t even begin to tell you.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I can’t do it.”
“You’re starting to mature?”
“Hell no, I just have my rules and principles.”
“Ah, and here I thought you were starting to grow up,” he said to me condescendingly.
“Bitch, I’m already grown up!” I said to him. “What is it with all these people assuming stupid shit about me for no reason?”
“Did the girl say something to upset you?” he asked me.
“No girl can upset me. I’m not having this debate with you again, man. I’m telling you, I’m on the winning side here. I’d still rather be dead at the bottom of Lake Mendota than married with kids.”
“How about there are no sides?” he proposed.
“Even better! But… that was always my original point. You do you; I do me. What, was my phrasing too hippy-dippy for you? Fucking Christians.”
“Hey!” Dave snapped, growing angry. I knew I had offended him, so I backed off.
“Sorry,” I said.
Dave’s furrowed brow began to relax. “This question may seem ridiculous to you, but have you ever considered actually taking this girl out on a date?”
Before I could say anything, he cut me off, continuing as if he expected an argument. “Just hear me out, all right? You don’t want something serious; that’s fine. Maybe this girl isn’t your ‘ideal girl,’ who knows? But don’t you still believe in treating people fairly? This girl is obviously not someone who just wants to sleep around. I’ve never even met her, and I can tell you that. Why don’t you take her out for a burger, or a movie, or out to a club? Come on, man, don’t be so damn lazy.”
It was because of Dave’s words that I did start to think I may have indeed gotten too ahead of myself with Hannah. I knew what he was saying was true, even the bit about me being lazy. I had convinced myself that it should have been easy. I justified my actions (or inactions) by looking at my body as “work,” and that by keeping it nice and fit, I had done my part.