The List

by Chantal Fernando

  “You want my number,” I slowly clarify, tilting my head to the side. “To see me again tonight?”

  He scans my face, and I don’t know what he sees there but he chuckles. “Yes, I want to see you tonight.” He pauses, then adds, “You surprised me last night.”

  “Surprised you how?” I ask, arching a brow. “Did you think I was going to be a prude in bed or something?”

  If so, why did he take me home in the first place? I don’t understand men.

  “You just did,” he says, staring down at me with this little smile on his face, like he thinks I’m cute or something.

  “Maybe you surprised me too,” I fire back, looking him in the eye, challenging him. He’s younger than me, but he doesn’t act it. He’s not a boy, he’s a man—his age doesn’t mean shit, and the way he handled me last night… I’m impressed with a few skills he possesses.

  “Good,” he says, lip twitching. He holds his phone in his hands, staring down at the screen. “Hopefully I surprised you enough you’ll give me your number now.”

  “Okay,” I say a little hesitantly. What harm can it do? I tell him my number and he puts it into his phone, then brings his gaze back up to me.

  “I have to go or I’m going to be late,” he says, sounding apologetic. “The cab will be here soon.”

  He pulls money out of his wallet and tries to hand it to me. “For the cab.”

  He wants to give me money to pay for my cab home? I can’t figure out if this makes him a gentleman, or if it makes me feel like some kind of hooker. Maybe both. Is this him trying to control the situation? Or maybe he’s genuinely being nice, in case I didn’t have any money on me. I know some women go out with no cash on them, but I’m not one of them.

  “I can pay for my own cab, thank you,” I tell him, staring him down. I don’t know why his offer offends the independent woman in me, but it does. Is this a thing? Or maybe this is just an Eli thing. I don’t think most men would care how the women get home as long as they leave.

  “That’s not the point,” he says, sounding amused. He leaves the money on the table, and I walk over to him and give him a hug, melting into him. Suddenly feeling a little sooky, I bury my face against him and squeeze. He squeezes me back. I lift my head to see him smiling.

  “Fuck, you’re a bit cute,” he tells me.

  “A bit?” I ask, lifting my chin.

  I’m not usually a girl who gets called cute. My style leans towards more dark and edgy, and so does my attitude.

  He smiles again, and I can’t take my eyes off his lips.

  I have a feeling he’s just a happy kind of guy, and I like that. He gives me a quick kiss, watches me for a moment, then steps away from me, and says goodbye and leaves.

  I glance around his place, now all alone, feeling kind of awkward, the reality of the morning hitting me. I head back into his bedroom and grab my handbag, then decide to wait out the front. I lock his front door and step outside, my eyes widening as I realise I’m out in the middle of nowhere. All I can see from his front door is trees, land, and water. To the right is the chalet next door where his friend lives, but in front of me all I see is nature. I grab my phone and am sending my best friend, Nicky, a video of the scenery when Eli walks back up. I quickly slide my phone away.

  “He’s still not ready,” he says, referring to his friend from last night, offering me some of the coffee he now holds in his hand.

  I shake my head, and shift my weight on my feet, feeling a little uncomfortable, squinting as the sunlight hits my face.

  I don’t drink any kind of coffee, or anything with milk, actually, but I don’t bother to explain. Where exactly is my cab? I glance around but ultimately my gaze goes back to him, and I find that his eyes are already on me.

  “You sure you don’t want some?” he asks me, moving closer.

  “I’m sure,” I reply in a soft tone. Glancing out at the water, I say, “It’s so peaceful here... Beautiful, even.”

  “Very beautiful,” he murmurs, and when I turn back to him he’s still watching me. He closes the space between us, never taking his eyes off me, and then lowers his head to kiss me….

  Just as the cab pulls up, beeping it’s horn. I step back from him, my hand resting on the strap of my bag, the moment lost.

  “Here,” he says, trying to hand me the money to pay for the cab again. “Take it.”

  I shake my head, scowling. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but it’s not necessary. “Thanks but no thanks,” I say, waving and all but rushing towards the taxi. I stumble on the way, hoping he didn’t see that but knowing that he probably did.

  I can’t be taken anywhere.

  I close the door and rattle off my address to the driver.

  Am I being rude to him right now? He probably thinks I can’t wait to get away from him, and he’s probably right, but right now it’s time for me to get my ass back home. I need to think about everything that just happened, I need to wrap my head around it. I see Eli watching me as the cab drives away, so I look away. I want to look back at him again but I don’t. Instead, I scrub my hands down my face and sigh. Now that the delicious sex is over, I have to deal with the fact that my baby brother, Seth, is now going to find out that I went home with Eli from Matt and his friends, and then I’m going to get the judgement of the century. I can’t be bothered dealing with it, or him, and I should be able to do what I want to. I’m older. It’s not fair that I have different rules just because I’m female. The cab driver chats to me on the way home like she didn’t just pick me up at 5:00 a.m. from what was clearly a booty call of some kind, and drops me home. I unlock the door and walk inside. Keisha is still fast asleep in the guest room, so I decide to have a quick nap before I wake up, make breakfast, and then get my arse to soccer.

  Not the best plan I’ve ever had, yet sadly not the worst.

  My last thought as I fall back asleep is that I can still smell him on me.

  Chapter Four

  “Where the hell were you this morning?” Nicky asks me on the phone as I sit on the grass. She lives a few hours away, so we’re on the phone a lot catching up with each other’s lives. When something happens, she’s the first person I want to tell. She never judges, but when I’m being a dickhead, she’s also the first to tell me so. She just gets me, and she’s also one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever met. I truly don’t know what I’d do without her. I give her a quick rundown of the night’s events.

  “I can’t believe you actually went home with someone,” she says, sounding shocked. “Why do all the fun things happen when I’m not there?”

  “Because when you’re here we feed off each other and scare away all men?” I suggest, which is true. We can be a bit much together, and when she’s here I ignore any men that try and talk to me because no one can beat her company.

  She laughs, the sound bringing a smile to my face. “True. Well, Eli sounds delicious. Did you use protection though?”

  I stay silent, then hold the phone away from my ear while she yells at me. I am on the pill, so I don’t have to worry about getting pregnant. It’s just… all the other stuff. I cringe, and shift positions on the grass, realising that I can still feel Eli. Flashbacks hits me. I want him again, now. Jesus. What has he done to me? This morning, I kind of never wanted to see him again. But now, as I replay the sex in my head, I realise I’m being a total idiot, because I need that again. I’m not ready to give it up yet. And why can’t I have it? He said he wanted to see me again, and I can’t think of any reasons that I shouldn’t, sans my brother.

  He better message me like he said he would.

  I say bye to Nicky and tell her I’ll see her in two days. Then I concentrate on the soccer game, watching Carter, my nephew, play.

  At least I try to concentrate.

  When I get home, I see a message from Matt.

  “So how did Eli go?”

  Fuck, he’s nosy. This is exactly what I didn’t want.

  “Last night never happened,”
I type, hoping he gets the idea. As in, don’t tell Seth.

  “What do you mean?” he replies.

  “I mean, shut up.”

  “Did he fuck the guts out of you?”

  I roll my eyes. Exhibit A of why I would never touch any of those boys.

  “Who said we did anything? Keisha wanted to go home, so we did,” I reply.

  “Ahh okay then. I’m sure he will let me know when he comes around tonight.”

  Wait, what?

  Fucking hell.

  Eli is going to Matt’s house tonight?

  What will he tell him?

  I sit back and wait from the call from my brother.

  *****

  “Maybe you were cold towards him in the morning and it put him off,” Nicky says the next morning when Eli still hasn’t contacted me.

  “Maybe he took down the wrong number,” I say, and I know how up myself that sounds, but replaying our night together, as I have been, over and over, I don’t see why he’d say he wanted to see me again and then change his mind. Sure, I could have been friendlier in the morning, but so what, I was in freak-out mode, and I was out of my comfort zone. I still gave him a hug, and we chatted a bit. That should count for something, right? I’m not even usually that cuddly.

  Is having an instant connection with someone possible?

  Fucking hell.

  If he felt what I did, he would want to see me again. My ego struggling, I wonder how to handle the situation. What if he changed his mind about wanting to see me again? Then again, what if he really did lose my number or something?

  I need to find out.

  Deciding to make my own fate and find him myself, I message Matt again.

  “Do you have Eli on social media?”

  “No, I don’t. Why?”

  “So he’s not that close with you and your crew?” I probe.

  “I literally just met him on Friday night.”

  I blink. Is he fucking serious?

  “You acted like he was your best friend.”

  So, he was setting me up with a complete stranger?

  “Yeah, well. He bought me drinks. He seemed like a top bloke though!”

  Well, I guess it all makes sense now. They were drunk friends, like me with girls I meet in the club bathroom. Friends who are best friends that night, but never see or care about each other ever again. Who knew men did that too?

  With my only lead a fail, I don’t know how I’m ever going to find him. Plus, I’m going away to see Nicky for a few nights, so I won’t even be here.

  Maybe Eli is going to be the one-night stand I wanted after all.

  Except now, that’s not what I want at all.

  I’m about to give up when I open a dating app I used to use. Basically every single person uses this app, so maybe he’s on it. I put in twenty-six for the age and fifteen kilometres for the distance, then try my luck. I go through three men before I land on an Eli.

  He’s twenty-six.

  It’s him.

  And I realise that I’ve spoken to him before—on this app before I stopped using it.

  Shit.

  How did I not recognise him?

  I remember we briefly had a chat, but I deleted him when he said he didn’t live here. There was no point getting to know someone that was just going to leave.

  How ironic.

  I click yes on him, and then wait for him to send me a message. I’ve done my bit, and now he needs to do his. And if he doesn’t contact me, well, then I have my answer.

  *****

  I’m hanging out in a hotel room with Keisha, and we’re waiting for Nicky to finish work so we can all go to dinner together. I like visiting the city. I used to live here, and grew up here, but it’s no longer home. I’ve gotten used to the country, the peaceful lifestyle and ocean views from my house. Could I move back? Sure. I’m pretty adaptable. But there’d have to be a reason. As we lie in bed and watch TV, tired from a full day of shopping, my mind wanders back to Eli, like it has pretty much every moment since I all but ran from his place. It annoys me that he didn’t message me, both in general and on the dating app, and it annoys me that he’s not fucking my brains out right now.

  Just as I have that thought, my phone beeps, and when I check it, it’s from him.

  Excitement fills me.

  “Hello, miss.”

  Those two words, that’s all it takes.

  I can’t stop the smile that spreads over my face. He messaged me, so what does that mean exactly? Because I’m kind of hoping he wants to see me again. If he doesn’t, he definitely talks a lot of shit, because I believed his words the morning after we fucked.

  I apparently have no shame, because I type back, “Hello, how are you? Pretty sure you were meant to message me.”

  I could play cool, sure, but I like to go for honesty. I can be forward, blunt even, and that’s just me. I don’t have time for games, or the energy. If he doesn’t want me, it’s fine, he can just say so.

  “I know. Either you’re terrible at giving numbers, or I’m terrible at taking them down, because your number was missing one.”

  Ha! I was right. My smile widens. I can’t wait to tell Nicky this. It wasn’t my morning grumpiness that put him off at all. Apparently, drunk us just can’t communicate properly. At least when it came to this, anyway. We can clearly communicate just fine in other ways. Better than fine.

  Fucking amazing.

  I type my number back to him.

  He texts back with, “I was missing the seven.”

  “So I guess seven isn’t your lucky number then.”

  “I guess not... haha. What are you up to, miss?”

  “I’m lying in a hotel room in the city. Eating chocolate. You?”

  “Working. Sounds like you’re having a better time. Taking a little break?”

  “Yeah, just a few days to see my friend. So, I had fun the other night….” I snicker as I write the line, wondering what he will say next.

  “Me too. I keep thinking about those eyes of yours… big brown eyes looking up at me.”

  “Want to see them again?” I boldly type.

  “I think you already know the answer to that.” And that’s how Eli and I began chatting every day.

  *****

  When I return home after a few days, I need to catch up on work. I’m a freelance editor, and sometimes the flexibility of my job can lead me to leave things to the last minute. I may or may not be a huge procrastinator. Still, I’m a hard worker, and always make sure I do the best job I can, pushing myself to be better each time. I love what I do, and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

  Apparently I’m great at picking up other people’s mistakes.

  Probably why I’m still single.

  My real passion, though, is writing. I’ve been writing my first novel, and taking my time with it. I hope one day I can publish it; that’s my real dream.

  I tell myself I need to finish some work before I see Eli again, because he already distracts me enough. Every time I see his name pop up on my phone, I smile. I shouldn’t be smiling, I know this, but I can’t help myself, and it’s not even because he’s fucking sexy. I’m learning that there’s a lot more to him—he’s witty, intelligent, and I really enjoy listening to his viewpoint on things. He’s only here for a few more weeks—he’s been here for over a month already—so I know that nothing will come of this, but I still want to spend whatever time I can with him.

  I want to taste him again.

  “The next time you come over, I’ll make sure I anchor the bed down. You know the room looked like a bomb hit it, right?”

  “Pretty hard to forget. All I keep doing is having flashbacks of that night,” I admit in my return text. We’ve been talking about seeing each other again ever since I boldly told him I thought we needed a repeat of that night. I told him I had to do a little work before I could play though, and he said he was actually surprised I had such willpower. I don’t though, I just left the work so damn late that
I have no alternative. I also watch my nephew, Carter, most evenings, so I can’t just ditch him and go over to Eli’s.

  Scott, a friend of mine, drops around just as I’m finishing up my first manuscript.

  “How was the city?” he asks, spreading out on my bed like he lives here. Scott and I have slept together before, but we’re truly only friends now. I didn’t think that was possible before, but it definitely is, because I don’t see him as anything more now even though we know each other intimately.

  “It was good,” I tell him as I save my files. “Nice to get away for a little bit. I think I ate everything I saw.”

  “Standard,” he says, grinning. “And let me guess, now you’re rushing to get your work done because you shouldn’t have taken a few days off in the first place?”

  I roll my eyes. “Who are you, the procrastination police?”

  “I don’t know how you remain employed,” he says, not for the first time.

  “I work for myself,” I tell him, spinning around on my chair. “And my boss happens to be very understanding.”

  “I’ll bet,” he says, scrolling through his phone.

  “So I have a question for you,” I start, licking my lips. “When men have a one-night stand, how do you know what the woman likes? Do you just guess? How does it work exactly?”

  Scott looks at me for a moment, then bursts out into laughter. “Taye, men don’t give a fuck about the woman when we have a one-night stand. We only worry about getting what we want. We fuck how we want to fuck. We get what we want. End of story.”

  I purse my lips. I’m sure that’s true in some cases, but surely not in all? “So, you don’t even care if we come or not?”

  He shrugs, brown eyes dancing with amusement. “Depends. If you come, it’s a bonus, but it’s not why we’re there. Why all the questions?”

  Men are pigs.

  I clear my throat, then admit to him, “I had a one-night stand and he was pretty much everything I’d want someone I’m fucking to be. The sex was passionate, and he was all pulling my hair and grabbing my throat and—”