*****
“Maybe I’d like to try that, to be your submissive. I’d kneel naked, head down, waiting for you to command me….”
“You would be the perfect candidate for that, miss.”
“Why?”
“Because of your eyes, and how they give everything away. Those big brown eyes. And because you’d be sexy as fuck.”
All this fantasy talk has me needing release. He just knows what to say, how to turn me on with just his words, his mind, and when I picture him playing everything out….
Fuck.
He needs to return, stat, and be inside me, where he belongs.
“Tell me your last name.”
“No.”
“Please,” I type.
“I probably would give in if I was there in person, but from here I cannot see your eyes.”
My eyes seem to be his weakness, one I’m not afraid to utilize.
“I want you.
Inside me.
Now.”
“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me,” he sends back, but if it’s half of what he does to me, I have some idea. It’s enough to send someone crazy. I’m almost there. The lust only he can fulfil, it’s draining me. Consuming me. I want him so badly. I thought time would cure it, but it’s not. If anything, it’s making it worse. Shouldn’t we be forgetting each other now? Letting daily life distract us to the point of forgetting? Letting people cloud our minds, and our bodies, and letting the taste of other people fill our mouths.
“I haven’t been with anyone since you, Eli. I’m so sexually frustrated and only you can fix it. I’d be so wild for you. When I see you, I’m going to jump on you and we won’t be leaving that bedroom for a few days at least.”
“My want for you doesn’t fade, Taye. So don’t think just because I’ve been with others that it will. It drives me just as crazy still.”
I inhale deeply, considering his words. I don’t get him sometimes. He acts like we’re something, when we’re not, and it confuses me. I want him, more than anything, but he’s said it won’t happen, yet his words contradict him. I know that actions hold more power than words, but as a writer, it’s sometimes hard for me to remember that. Words do mean everything to me, the beauty in them, the hold they have over me.
And his words are like the softest of caresses. The caress of a lover, not someone who doesn’t want me or isn’t willing to fight for me, for us.
I’d go to war for Eli, and he won’t even stop fucking other women for me.
Or try long distance, or give me any kind of hope.
The only inches he’s willing to give me are the delicious ones in his pants. And not that I don’t want them, because fuck, yes I do, but I’d love something more.
This always happens to me. I give everything for someone, but I’ve learnt not to expect that same type of loyalty back. No one loves like me, or cares like I do. Or is as thoughtful as me. I give it all I have, and I hope that one day I get that back, because I deserve it. A woman like me is not easy to find, and when I say that it has nothing to do with my looks, and it’s not me being egotistical.
I speak the truth.
And yet it’s still not enough.
But you know what?
For the right man, it will be.
Chapter Fourteen
A few weeks later, and the first draft for my book is finished. Eli wanted to read it, and I want him to be the first one to do so, so I sent it to him.
“Sorry for the late reply. I was out shooting. The property owner heard I was a good shot.”
“Of course you’re good at shooting. You’re good at everything, Eli.”
“No I’m not.”
Sex, boxing, his job, sports, playing pool, vodka pong… and now shooting. Yes, he is. I’m sure he has a million other talents I’m yet to uncover too.
“What are you bad at then?” I type, smirking to myself as I add, “Besides commitment.”
My lips twist in humour as I read his reply. “Well played, miss.”
“I know, good dig, right?”
“I’m not bad at commitment.”
Right, that’s just reserved for me.
Nicky told me this saying she heard, a metaphor for men, about how when a taxi is unavailable, they will drive past, ignoring passengers. But when they are ready, their light goes on, and they stop and the very first passenger gets in.
Eli is ignoring me right now, but when his light comes on, what if I’m not the first passenger waiting?
What if when he’s ready, he finds someone else?
I want to be that fucking passenger.
And I want his light to turn on right fucking now.
*****
“Undecided if I like reading your book or not.”
“Why?” I quickly reply, wondering if maybe he doesn’t like it. Is it awful? Maybe I should stick to editing instead of writing. You know, those that can’t do, teach, or whatever that saying is. I don’t even know if it applies.
“I like the writing and the story, but it makes it difficult.”
Oh.
Is he showing me a little bit of rare vulnerability right now?
“The sex or being in my head?”
“Both.”
I wonder if he knows how much that admission gets to me, and means to me. My words affect him. Does it make him understand me more, does it make him miss me? He’s never ever told me that he misses me, even though I’ve told him a few times. I’d prefer what he just said over that, though. We haven’t spoken about who he’s been sleeping with, or seeing; he keeps it to himself and it’s easier that way. I told him we have a no-censorship rule, but he replied with, “I think I’m looking after you if there are some things I don’t say.”
I felt like telling him that there’s no point worrying about looking after me, or my feelings, because the pain in my chest has lessened, but I don’t think it will ever go away when I think of him being with other women. I don’t say that though, I don’t say anything, so maybe it’s me who is censoring him. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t want him to walk away, or what, but it’s better this way. For both of us. He shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what he wants, and I don’t want him to, but I can’t exactly control my feelings either. So I started to tone them down, and now they are starting to become lost.
And the bitter part of me tells myself that if he truly wanted to look after me, he’d stop hurting me in the first place.
I tell that part of me to shut the fuck up, too.
I need to see how we play out. I need to. If I don’t, I will always wonder what if, wonder if I lost the potential love of my life because I was scared, or because I couldn’t handle the situation.
Because I didn’t fight hard enough.
‘I Can’t Fall in Love Without You’ by Zara Larsson plays, and if some of the lines don’t sum up my life right now, I don’t know what does. The song then changes to ‘Talking Body’ by Tove Lo, another song that reminds me of Eli.
How long am I going to do this to myself for?
I can’t keep living in flashbacks and memories. I can’t keep ignoring all other men, not giving anyone else a chance, when Eli doesn’t even want me.
Fight or motherfucking flight.
Do I fight for him, or do I save myself?
I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.
*****
“There’s a lot of you in your heroine. She’s beautiful, witty, talented… How the fuck are you still single, Taye?”
How am I single? Why does he have to ask me something like this? Because you don’t want me? How do I say that without sounding bitter and turning our conversation into some deep and meaningful argument?
“Maybe the person I want doesn’t want me.”
He doesn’t take the bait, replying with, “You really are cut from a different cloth.”
“You’d be a good writer, Eli.”
He has a way with words. He explains things so beautifully, and always
has a witty reply, or a sweet one.
“I think you have enough writing talent for both of us.”
Fuck.
He’s so sweet, yet so badass.
A bad boy with a heart of gold, and my fucking weakness.
“We could co-write the dirtiest book the world has ever seen together.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” he replies, making me grin.
“We’d have to test out the sex scenes, of course. Much research would need to be done.”
“Of course. Hopefully work sends me back there soon. I asked them to, and they said when some work comes up they will let me know.”
He asked his work to send him back to me?
Fucking hell.
Am I going to survive it when he leaves for the second time?
I want to spend time with him no matter what, whether I never see him again or not, but obviously I will also get more attached to him.
“I think if you stayed here longer last time, you would have gotten addicted to me.”
“I’m not going to deny that.”
The fucked-up part is, I already became addicted to him, and it didn’t take much time at all. I can’t even pinpoint when it happened really. I don’t know.
He became mine and I became no one’s.
Lucky for me though—I love myself enough for both of us.
*****
“Can you get away for a few days?”
“Why?” I ask, trying to tone down the excitement I feel.
“I was thinking I could fly you out to see me if they give me a few days off.”
Those words are like music to my ears. Just the other day I was thinking that I’d go visit him in an instant, but he never said anything so I assumed he didn’t want me to. Now he’s saying he wants to fly me out? Not that I’d ever let him pay for my ticket, or anything like that, but the offer is extremely sweet. I’ll have to see if my brother could manage with Carter without me, but fuck, how I’d love to go and see him.
“I’m sure we could work something out. I’d love to see you, Eli.”
Understatement of the year.
“Okay, good. I’ll let you know when.”
I can’t contain my happiness for the rest of the day, already mentally planning what I’m going to take with me, and all the things I want to do to him the second I get my hands on his perfect body again. I’m going to fuck him out of my system; I’m going to taste him from head to toe and get to know every inch of him. I’m going to laugh with him again, tease him, and challenge him.
I’m not going to have any expectations, or worry about what will happen after. I’m just going to enjoy everything that is Eli. The joy he brings to everyone around him—I’m going to soak that shit up. His light. He has a fucking light in him that I never want to see dim. I’m going to be so good to the man. I’m going to change his opinion on wanting a relationship, show him that not all of us are the same, and I’m going to do all this without expecting anything in return. I’m just going to give.
I’m going to do everything except fall in love with him.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you still flying over to see Eli?” Keisha asks me as we sit at the pub, chatting over a few drinks.
“He hasn’t been given any time off yet,” I say, trying to sound optimistic, even though I don’t feel it. He hasn’t brought it up again, and I really don’t think it’s going to happen. I don’t know what is going to happen. I’m just trying not to focus on him, and not close myself off to other people, but it’s hard. I once said that I’m too loyal for my own good, and I think that’s what is making me not interested in anyone else; I’ve given him my loyalty freely even though I’m not getting the same in return. That’s me, always giving, and even though it makes me look kind of stupid, it’s just who I am. I need to try and meet new guys though; I can’t keep going on like this. I’m a sexual woman, and not having any sex is killing me.
I need to be fucked, or I’m going to go insane. It’s been three months since I slept with Eli, three months since a man has touched me, held me, or used his mouth on me. Of course, more than anything I’d like it to be him doing all those things to me, reminding what it’s like to have the attitude fucked out of me, but realistically, it’s not going to be. He never once asked me to not be with anyone, or made any comments that made me feel obligated to do so. I don’t think he cares what I do, if I’m being honest, and fuck if that doesn’t hurt. I need to want to be with someone else because of me though; it has to have nothing to do with Eli at all. I wouldn’t even tell him if I did. I don’t want him to have that picture in his mind, I don’t want him to think I like him any less, because that’s not the case at all. If anything, I like him more and more. And like a typical woman, the more he’s out of my reach, the more I want him.
Why do I have to be like that?
I guess we all want what we can’t have, and isn’t that just a bitch?
I know talking to Eli still isn’t helping the situation, just making me care even more and more about someone who isn’t mine, but I can’t seem to walk away. Even now, I don’t want to. Just the thought of it makes me want to panic. Don’t get me wrong—I could do it. I’m strong, and if I want to do something I can and I will, and I will succeed, but I don’t fucking want to.
“You need to get under someone new already,” she casually adds, for the millionth time, like she’s been hearing my inner thoughts the whole time I’ve been sitting here.
“So you’ve said,” I say with a wolfish grin. “I think my goal for tonight is more along the lines of staying out of trouble.”
“Trouble seems to find us, doesn’t it?” she says, lighting up a cigarette and inhaling. “Or maybe we find it.”
I don’t know what it is, but every time we’ve gone out recently something or another has happened, from a girl getting angry at me for talking to her boyfriend (one who didn’t seem to remember he had a girlfriend in the first place) to us getting kicked out of a pub or two for being a little too drunk. No one else has really caught my eye. I need to get it out of my head that no one will ever be better than him, but right now, he’s all I want. I don’t want anyone else. It’s fucked, I know. I guess I’m going to have to get through this the hard way, by my damn self, feeling every emotion as it hits instead of distracting myself with penis.
Oh, how I miss penis.
A mouth like mine is going to waste just sitting here doing nothing.
My mouth is currently unemployed. It needs to be put to work.
Thank God no one can actually hear my thoughts.
“You can say that again,” I mutter, taking a sip of my drink. “How has your week been?”
“Not bad,” she says, shrugging. “Kids, cleaning, cooking… the usual stuff. How is your book coming along?”
“It’s finished,” I say, beaming. “I’m just doing last-minute edits and things. I hope everyone likes it.”
Eli said he did. I’m glad, because a lot of it was about him. If he figured that out, he decided not to say anything about it, although he said he loved my words. He even remembered a few quotes, and use them in our daily chats.
I wonder if he knows just how much that means to me.
We head to the bar to grab another drink and make a toast to no bad decisions tonight.
We’re two grown-ass women.
We can be good, surely.
*****
“We’re going back to mine for drinks, you two coming?” an attractive guy asks us. We were standing out the front of the pub, about to go home, when we ran into a group of four guys. One, I know, and have been dancing with all night. He’s gay, and fuck if I’m not half in love with him already. He’s funny, charismatic, and spent the night dirty dancing with me. A me that gets to grind and show off my moves is a happy me.
I look to Keisha, step closer to her, and call a group meeting. “What do you think? Are we going to regret this?”
A few weekends back, we ended up going to a
guy’s house for drinks. Except it didn’t pan out like we thought it would. His parents picked him up, yet—don’t ask me why—we still got into their car, and then they ended up living so far out, and with no reception, that we couldn’t even call a cab to leave. We were stuck there, no phone service, until morning when his mum took us home. Thank goodness they weren’t serial killers or something, because no one would have found our bodies. Suffice to say, drunk us does not want to get into a situation like that again.
“I don’t know,” she says, a contemplative look on her pretty face. She turns to him and asks, “How far away do you live?”
“Like ten minutes,” Mr. Attractive says.
“Is there phone reception there?” I ask.
The look he gives me lets me know he thinks I’m crazy, but I’m too drunk to care.
“Yes, there is. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
I take a look at the crew, and they all look normal to me. “Don’t get all grumpy. Last time we ended up going home with someone’s parents, and we don’t want to do something stupid again.”
He stills, disbelief flashing through his eyes. And boy, his eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them.
Turquoise.
Fucking turquoise.
“You did what? Wait, never mind, I don’t want to know,” he says, shaking his head.
I step to him and cup his bearded face in my hands. “Your eyes are fucking amazing.”
He gives me an odd look then, and says, “Don’t fall in love with me. Trust me, I’m fucked up. You don’t want to go there.”
Wait, what?
Okay, not what I was expecting him to say. How about thank you? Accept the compliment and move on, dick face.
I let go of him and step back.
I don’t think I’ve met a more arrogant man in my life. Don’t fall in love with him? My heart is taken; there’s no room for anyone else, although it would be much easier if there was.
I look at Keisha and say, “Don’t go near that guy. He’s arrogant as fuck and has an ego bigger than ours.”
And he’s wearing a pink shirt.
Or salmon, as I heard him call it.
Pink.
She nods, and then we start walking up the street to get some food, chatting with the men as we go. They buy us a kebab, and just before we get into the cab, I see Matt. I run up to him and say, “If we go missing we left with those guys, okay?”
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