The List

by Chantal Fernando

  Scott lifts his hand up to stop me. “Yes, I get the picture. You know what, Taye? I can tell men how to get you into bed in three words.”

  I blink, then repeat, “You can what? Tell men how to get me into bed by using only three words?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck off, Scott.”

  “I’m serious,” he says, smirking at me. “Are you ready?” He glances around the room, like he’s about to share a trade secret or something. “The three words are, ‘I am dominant.’”

  “So, I like my men a little dominant in the bedroom,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “It’s not a crime. It’s the only reason I fucked you, remember?”

  He throws a pillow at my head, and I, being uncoordinated, don’t duck in time so it hits me in the face.

  “And this is why we don’t do that stuff anymore.”

  “So, you had your first one-night stand, and he choked you, so now he’s your dream guy. Is that what I’m getting from this story? Fuck, Taye. You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

  “Are you only realising this now? And when did I ever use the words ‘dream guy’?” I ask, arching a brow. “I’m meant to be the dramatic one here, Scott.”

  “And you are,” he says, studying me. “I don’t think you should romanticise this, Taye. He gave you what any guy would give you.”

  I puff out a breath. “Okay, Scott. Thanks for the advice and lecture. Should we go get something to eat?”

  He nods, and gets up off my bed.

  Am I romanticising this?

  No, I don’t think I am at all.

  He fucked me just how I like it, and I’m going back for more.

  That’s all it is.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey, pretty lady,” he texts, making me smile at my phone like an idiot. “What time do you want me over tonight? I finish work at six.”

  Yes, I’ve invited him over for a few drinks tonight. However, we won’t be alone; two of my friends will be here, so it’s more friends hanging out than anything else. I don’t know how it ended up not just being us two, but I think it’s because I’m not a person to ditch my friends and the girls and I had already made plans to go out tonight. I know that they’re nosy and want to see who the man I’ve been going on about is, especially because Keisha got to meet him and they didn’t, so I just invited him over for drinks with us. It will be weird having him in my house, in my space, almost like I’m inviting him into my life. Flashbacks of the last time I saw him run through my mind—him fucking me from behind, his hand in my hair….

  Again, after drinks here why are we going out tonight and not just fucking?

  Oh right, because he’s also super fun to go out with.

  The night will definitely end with us in bed though, so I don’t think I should complain. I can’t wait. I’m also excited just to hang out with him and get to know him a little.

  “Come over around eight. I need at least an hour to get ready,” I text back to him.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just brush my hair for an hour then,” is his smart-arse reply.

  “Maybe you should practice your dance moves,” I reply with a snicker. Eli told me that the way I was dancing was one of the first things he noticed about me. That, and my hair. I may or may not have challenged him to another dance battle, and this time he isn’t going to know what hit him. I’ve been working on my burlesque moves, and am going to incorporate them into my clubbing ones.

  He’s going to love them.

  Maybe we’ll be leaving early.

  “Don’t need to, mine are ready to go. Are yours?”

  “You know they are.”

  He’s so confident and playful at the same time, a mix I don’t think I’ll ever tire of. Feeling excited, and a little nervous to see him again, I choose a dress for the night and lay it on my bed. I need to look amazing tonight. I only wear black and own more little black dresses than I’d like to admit. My wardrobe is the one the girls love to raid whenever they can’t find something to wear themselves. I have a long shower, iron my hair so it’s dead straight and almost reaching the curve of my arse, then apply some make-up—red lips and winged eyeliner. I put on my short, tight black dress and match it with a pair of black knee-high socks and block heels. I have a thing for socks, stockings, and knee-high boots; I happen to think they are all very sexy and make me feel the same.

  As soon as the girls arrive, I pour us all drinks and turn on the music as we all get ready. Eli messages again and asks what I want him to bring, but I tell him not to bother, because there is plenty of vodka here. He doesn’t need to bring anything except his damn self.

  “So, what time is Eli coming over?” Keisha asks as we set up the beer pong cups. We put vodka in them instead, because I don’t like beer.

  “Eight.”

  She takes a sip of her drink and studies me. “You never bring guys to your house to drink with us.”

  “I’ve brought guys here before,” I say, racking my brain. “What about….”

  Keisha arches a brow. “Yes?”

  Fuck.

  Surely there’s someone.

  Nope, she’s right. I haven’t brought anyone home to drink with us before. I’ve had guys over to spend the night, sure, but it’s only been me here. He’s already met Keisha though, so it’s not even a big deal. We’re just all going to go out and have a good time.

  “Well there’s a first time for everything,” I say, lifting my chin. I check my phone to see a message from Eli, asking for my address. I send it to him quickly, butterflies in my stomach at the thought of him being here soon.

  “Let’s play,” Keisha says, her younger sister, Ellen, agreeing. “Should we play two against one?”

  “I’ll play the winner,” I say, smirking at the two of them. “Let’s see who survives.”

  They will already be drunk by the time it’s my turn.

  I watch the two of them play, cheering and hollering. I’m about to message Eli to ask him if he got lost when there’s a knock at the door. Keisha runs to the door before I can even get there, and I arrive just as he enters.

  “Hey,” I say, smiling at him. I step closer to him and give him a hug, then glance up at him. “What did you bring?” His hands are full. “I told you that you didn’t need to bring anything.”

  “Couldn’t show up empty-handed,” he says, blue eyes dancing with amusement. I lead him to the kitchen, introducing him to Ellen. He puts bottles of rum, Coke, and tequila on the table.

  The other day when we were chatting, I told him I only drink vodka and tequila. Earlier tonight I told him we had plenty of vodka here, so he brought tequila with him.

  Is it possible I just found a man that actually pays attention and listens to what I say?

  What an intriguing concept.

  “Thought I’d let you try my favourite tequila,” he says, while I take him in. He’s wearing a black shirt with dark jeans and looks so good that I can’t wait to see what’s underneath. When I meet his eyes, they’re already on me. He totally caught me checking him out, but I just grin. He can hardly blame me. He looks good, and he knows it, however I get the feeling that he doesn’t have a huge ego, or anything like that. I don’t think he cares about his looks too much; he’s definitely not a pretty boy, although his face is handsome indeed. He’s more of a manly man, or at least that’s how I’m calling it.

  “Want to play with me?” I ask, nodding my head toward the pong table.

  “Yes, I do actually,” he says in a low tone, eyes flashing with something that will have to wait until we’re both alone.

  Did I just ask him if he wants to play with me? Yes, yes I did.

  I clear my throat, but instinctively take a step closer to him. I didn’t know what to expect from tonight besides some laughs and another round of delicious sex, but I almost forgot the pull this man has over me. I just want to be near him. That’s the only way I can explain it. And it’s not like me. I can be very standoffish, and have even been called cold. But
around Eli? I’m not even warm, I’m scorching. Still, I’m not going to let off just how much I do want him. He can be kept guessing, just as I am. What goes through my mind and my actions can be two very different things.

  “Have you played before?” I ask, absently rubbing my hand along my collarbone.

  He shakes his head, eyes boring into mine. “No, but I’m a fast learner.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” I mutter under my breath, then turn and grab a plastic cup for him to drink out of. I eye the bottles of alcohol on the table. “That’s a lot of alcohol.”

  “Or not enough,” Ellen calls out.

  “Do you think people who are athletic and play sports are better at this game?” Keisha asks, and I grin because Nicky was saying something similar to me just the other day in regards to basketballers.

  Eli pours himself a drink while I get the table ready for our round.

  “Maybe,” I reply, standing at one side of the table. I don’t play any sport, and Eli looks like he does. His body is athletic and toned to perfection, although he did mention that he goes to the gym.

  He comes around to his side, and flashes me what I realise is his trademark wolfish grin.

  “Ladies first,” he says, watching me beneath thick, dark lashes.

  I take the ball, make the throw, and miss.

  I really want to win this game. I feel like Eli always has the upper hand, even in something as trivial as this, and I don’t like to lose. He said he’s never played before, and I play a fair bit, so surely I can win.

  He misses his first, too. But when he gets his second, third, and fourth in, I start to get a little suspicious. Either he’s one of those guys who is just good at everything, or he has played this before.

  “Never played before, hey?” I rib.

  “Beginner’s luck,” he says, amusement etched all over his handsome face as I struggle to drink one of the cups. Definitely too much vodka in here.

  I usually excel at this game. I’ve only lost about twice in my entire vodka pong career, and I don’t like the fact that I’m losing right now. I can be a pretty competitive person, even with small things like this.

  I don’t like to lose.

  “That’s some luck,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes.

  He simply smiles at me from behind his cup, as he takes a leisurely drink. Not because he lost, and has to, but because he wants to.

  I get a few in, but not before he gets all of his in, and wins the game.

  I lost. How the hell did I lose?

  I narrow my eyes at him, watching him as he wins humbly, not making a big deal out of it.

  “Good game,” he says, nodding at me, acting as if he actually did think I was a decent player.

  But….

  I didn’t win.

  So, not good enough, apparently.

  “I never lose,” I grumble, looking down into my vodka, the alcohol starting to hit me. “Next time we play doubles, you are so on my team.”

  If you can’t beat them, join them.

  “Okay,” he chuckles, arm sliding around my waist. I rest my head on his chest, then glance up at him, and into blue eyes that must be breaking hearts on the regular.

  I need to make sure that my heart doesn’t add to his jar.

  No, really. That shit needs to be a priority. Whatever this thing is between us, I don’t need to become another casualty.

  “Closer” by the Chainsmokers starts to play, and I grin and say, “I love this song.”

  I take his hand in mine and lead him back to the kitchen, where I jump up on the counter and mouth along to the lyrics, drink in hand. The girls head out the front for a smoke, leaving Eli and I alone. I wrap my legs around him, and his hands rest on my hips, and before we can help it, his lips are on mine, and he’s giving me what I wanted the second I saw him walk through my door. My hands grip the back of his neck, pulling him even closer as we reacquaint ourselves, his tongue and taste was something I’ve been craving ever since I got in that cab and left his place. He pulls back and makes that growly hmmm sound, and I can’t help but lean forward for another kiss. He’s so fucking sexy, I don’t even know how I’m going to refrain from dragging him back to my room right now. It’s all I can think of doing.

  It’s him who pulls away.

  Later, I will learn the hard way that it will always be him who pulls away.

  Now though, I rest my forehead against his, and in a breathless voice say, “Hello.”

  There’s nothing else I can think to say. No witty comment, no smart-arse answer. Just hello. His kiss has stolen any coherent thought from me. I can’t see anything except Eli. His lips, his tongue.

  His scent.

  Okay, I need him to be inside me, right now. Surely the girls would give us an hour? Or four.

  Shit.

  We should just go out for a little then find the closest bed.

  Or couch.

  Or table.

  Anywhere will do, really.

  He grins, eyes filling with amusement. “Hello, miss.”

  “It feels like so long since the last time I saw you,” I admit to him, running my fingers down his rough cheek.

  “I know,” he murmurs, thumb touching my bottom lip. “Because someone was responsible and wanted to do her work before she saw me.”

  “I think I deserve an award for that,” I say softly, pulling his lips back down to mine. I think I knew that if I saw him, it would probably be the first time I’d be late for a deadline, because he’d consume me, like he is right now. I break the kiss and look into his eyes. He tucks my hair back behind my ear, and rests his forehead against mine.

  What is he doing to me?

  I should run, but nothing in me will move.

  I know, just know, that this is going to hurt. But I also know that he’s going to be worth it.

  “You look beautiful,” he tells me, hands running down to my waist.

  “Thank you,” I smile up at him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Although it should have been just him here, and us fucking all night, not leaving the house at all. Did I bring the girls here tonight as a sort of wall between us? So that it became just friends hanging out instead of anything else? I don’t know how my mind works. Maybe I just wanted him to have a good time, since all he does it work, work and work. Yet here we are, my legs around his waist, looking into each other’s eyes, which isn’t like friends at all.

  At least not like any friends that I have. The girls return, and we all have a few more drinks, and a lot of chats. At one point, Eli stands in front of me, his back to my chest, as I rest my head on his shoulder. It comes so naturally to touch him, and I can’t explain why. I’m not a person who is like that usually. Nicky tells me I’m a bad hugger, even when it comes to her, and I’m awkward about touching others in general. She is a hugger, so when we meet someone and she hugs them, I can’t exactly just stand there, and I’m forced to hug them, too. I don’t like it, but I do it.

  With Eli?

  I could be in his arms all day. My hugs aren’t awkward with him, they’re giving. His skin on mine feels like it’s meant to be there, and right now, me resting on him, I don’t want to move. Will I ever admit any of this out loud?

  No.

  Never.

  Eli pours us all shots of the tequila he brought, and I make a face as I swallow it.

  “I’m guessing you don’t like my favourite tequila then,” he teases, then laughs when I shake my head.

  “Why does it taste so bad? Normally I can down tequila like a pro.”

  It’s very strong.

  I knock over the packet of plastic shot glasses, and they fall everywhere. Eli bends down with me to pick them up. As our eyes lock, something passes between us. I don’t know what it is, exactly.

  There’s a pull between us.

  A tether.

  One I haven’t felt with anyone else before.

  One I’ve read about in books, but never thought ever actually existed in real life.r />
  He rises, then offers his hand to me, and I take it. When we’re both standing, I rest my cheek against his chest. I should probably question why I’m acting like this with him, so affectionate and friendly, like I’ve known him for a long time. Like we’re comfortable with each other. The truth of the situation is something completely different. I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me. This is only the second time I’ve met him, and both times we’ve been drunk. Sure, we’ve been chatting back and forth every day, but it’s not the same as actually knowing someone.

  I know his mind though, and that’s what I find so attractive about him.

  Along with everything else, apparently.

  Keisha and Eli step out for a smoke, while Ellen and I chat, both sitting on my kitchen counter. I don’t like that Eli smokes. My ex used to smoke and it would always give me migraines, bad ones that I’d have to lie down for hours. Apparently, I don’t mind the smell of smoke on this man, although with my ex, I’d make him change clothes before he was even allowed to come near me.

  “How hot is he?” I say, smiling dreamily.

  Ellen rolls her eyes at me. They’re probably wondering why I’m acting so infatuated, especially when they’ve never seen me like this around anyone else. She’s much younger than me, but I see her as family too. I’ve known Keisha for years because she was actually a friend of my younger brother’s. She’s the definition of friends that turned into family.

  I don’t know how it happens, but we finish all the alcohol. All of it. I head into my bedroom to reapply my lipstick in the mirror on my dressing table, then sit down on the bed as I tie up the lace on my heels that has fallen loose. My bedroom door is right near the kitchen, and they can all see me as I walk inside. Eli appears at the open door and takes a quick glance around. Him being in my room right now is probably not the best idea, especially when he closes the door behind him, then casually sits on my bed next to me, close but not touching. I like him in my space. I don’t fucking like anyone in my space. Tension builds between us, the air thickening, and I swallow hard, wanting him to reach out, grab me, kiss me, anything.

  But he doesn’t.

  I lick my lips and turn my body towards him, wanting him to take the hint, but he remains still.