KIRK
Emily’s the most beautiful girl in the world.
I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. She’s fallen asleep next to me and I’m looking at her now, just taking in the way the sheet clings to the curves of her body. I see one nipple peeking over the covers, rosy and soft, and I have to restrain myself from pulling the sheets back just so I can see the entirety of her body. I don’t even care if I sound like a pansy (or maybe a creep) right now: I could watch her sleep like this for the rest of my life.
I don’t even know how it got to this point. Sure, there was some chemistry between us right from the start, but this… This is simply too much. My heart beats faster whenever I look at her, my blood boils and my mind races. She’s like a toxin, one that’s as lovely as it is addicting.
Yeah, I can no longer act cool and pretend that I want to keep things casual. It’s time to face reality and admit what I really want; I can’t pussyfoot around it anymore. Let’s face it: I want her, and I want her bad. It hasn’t been a long time, sure, but I’m more than ready for it. I’m going to ask her to be exclusive with me, which I guess you can translate as the R word: relationship.
Smiling to myself, I let relief wash over me. I’ve been so afraid of commitment all of my life, but now… Now it just feels right. Maybe this is how love works. It falls on your lap and demands all of your attention, and it doesn’t give up until it has what it needs.
“Emily,” I whisper her name softly, and she stirs in her sleep. I really don’t want to wake her up, but I can’t wait till morning. I need to tell her how I feel, and I need to do it before I have the time to second guess myself. “I want to say something. I need you to -”
I’m cut short by the sound of my phone vibrating on the bedstand and, reacting on instinct alone, I roll to the side and grab it. I unlock it in a hurry, and that’s when I realize that I’m not holding my phone.
It’s Emily’s.
Realizing my mistake, I’m about to put the phone back on the bedstand when my eyes catch a glimpse of a text message. It’s from someone called Freeway. I look at the name for a couple of seconds, my heart pulsing like a jackhammer inside my chest. Freeway? Who the hell could it be? Fuck, I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself.
I press my thumb on the text message icon and, looking to the side to make sure Emily’s still asleep, I open Freeway’s text.
Are we on for Monday?, the text reads. I want you to wear something sexy… Maybe something I can take off easily with my teeth.
No, fuck, it can’t be. It just can’t.
I read the message over and over again, until each and every word seems to be burning a hole through my brain. There’s no other way to put it; Emily’s seeing other men.
Oh man, I feel like such a fucking idiot right now.
Holding my breath, I put the phone back on the bed stand and lie down, careful not to wake Emily up. I stare at the ceiling for what seems like an eternity, Freeway’s text message stabbing my mind like a spear.
I was more than ready to forget all about that ‘let’s keep it casual’ bullshit, but I guess I ended up putting the cart ahead of the fucking horse. It might be a dumbass thing to think, but it feels like the universe is playing some kind of cruel joke on me. First, I get to meet the girl of my dreams, and she thinks exactly like me… And then that’s exactly what steamrolls my hopes for the future.
But what the hell did I expect? The world doesn’t play nice with you just because you decided to change your ways. I was the one that told her I wanted to keep things casual, and now I’m getting what I deserve. I wish I could say this means nothing to me, that Emily’s just another girl… But then I’d be lying.
It doesn’t matter, though; I need to be strong. Emily’s an indepdent woman, and she isn’t ready to settle down just yet. Maybe that’s the universe’s way of telling me (in a rather sick way) that maybe I shouldn’t be thinking of settling down. Maybe I’m not even meant for it. Maybe I’m supposed to keep on living my life just the way I have.
Man, that’s a depressing thought.
All my life I thought that being single was the way to go, but now that I’ve met Emily… Now that I’ve caught a glimpse of what my life could be like with the right woman by my side… How am I supposed to go back to my old ways?
“Mm…” Emily groans, rolling to the side and laying one hand on my chest. She opens her eyes lazily, and then looks up at me, offering me a smile. “You awake? I thought I heard you say my name…” she whispers, and I just look away from her. I stare at the long shadows covering the whole room, the thoughts inside my head like dead tree branches, gloomy and scary.
“No… Go back to sleep,” I whisper back at her, stroking her hair softly. “You too…” she says, trailing off as she closes her eyes. A few seconds
later and she’s back asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily. I lie there, in the dead of the night, the silence and the shadows as my sole company.
Is this how it feels when your heart starts to fucking crack?
EMILY
“Argh,” I sigh, throwing my spoon into the soup in front of me. I ordered a soup because I’m trying to be strict about my diet, but now I’ve already regretted my decision; all I want right now is a greasy burger.
“Someone’s in a mood today,” Lana chuckles to herself, taking a large bite out of her burger. Damn it, couldn’t she have ordered a salad or something?
“Oh, shut up,” I whisper, grabbing my spoon again and taking it to my mouth. It doesn’t taste as good as a cheeseburger, but I think my waistline will thank me in the following weeks.
“Seriously babe, what’s going on?” Lana asks me, and I stare down at my soup, almost as if I expect to see the answers to all of life’s questions floating in there. “It’s about WineBar, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” I admit with a heavy sigh, raising my gaze and looking into her eyes. “It’s just that… ugh, I don’t even know anymore!” I continue, once more throwing the spoon into my soup. “I want things to remain casual but
-”
“But at the same time you don’t,” Lana finishes my sentence for me, nodding gravely. We’ve know each other long enough for her to be able to read my mind with one passing glance, but I guess she doesn’t even need to do it today; I’ve been acting kinda funky, and she has already picked up on that.
“Maybe? I don’t know. It’s just that he acted a little odd the last time we were together.”
“Odd? Like what? Did he want you to dress up like a pirate? Is that kind of odd we’re talking about?” She asks me and, for once, I can’t tell if she’s being serious or teasing me.
“No,” I frown. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh,” she says, “too bad. Pirates are fun,” she whispers wistfully and, for a fraction of a second, I can’t stop myself from imagining with excruciating detail the kind of action she must be getting with her husband whenever they’re alone. Ugh, now I’ll never see pirates in the same light again, that’s for sure.
“Don’t even elaborate on that, please,” I tell her, still frowning.
“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t about to. But, seriously, what’s up with WineBar then?”
“I’m not sure… Things were going well, you know? We went at it in his office, and later on he invited me to go over to his place and -”
“And you did it,” she says, finishing my sentence for me again. “I already know that. I spent the whole night waiting for you to call so that we could start working on the new outline, but voila, you were busy with Mr. 12 Inches.”
“Stop calling him that,” I protest, although I have to admit; the name fits him like a glove. Even though I wrote a book called 12 Inches, I never thought one day I’d actually meet a guy that hung. Talk about self-fulfilling prophecies.
“You were the one who told me he was huge,” Lana shrugs, and this time I let my frown go. I crack a slight smile and shrug right back at her. Oh, well, I guess I did tell her that.
“So, in the morning, we woke up and -”
“Woah, stop right there!” Lana says, raising one open hand and narrowing her eyes. “Are you telling me you’ve slept over? Like, really sleep? Oh, it’s happening, Em, I can feel it!”
“No, it isn’t happening. And that’s exactly it. I know we’ve agreed to keep it casual, but he actually brought that up the moment we woke up… I mean, he mentioned it three times! Three times! Like, I got it the first time, no need to be repeating that all morning.”
“So… I’m guessing that kinda ruined the mood, huh?” she asks me, taking another massive bite out of her burger. Swear to God, if she doesn’t finish it soon enough, I’m going to rip it off her hands and devour it with one single bite.
“Yeah, it totally ruined the mood,” I admit, still trying to fill the hole in my stomach with soup. “Not to mention that after waking up he bolted out of the apartment faster than I could snap my fingers together.”
“Just admit it, Em, you’re dying to have something serious with this guy, aren’t you?” I open my mouth to reply, but she raises her hand and stops me again. “No, don’t even try to bullshit me. I know you, Emily, so just give it to me straight.”
“Okay, okay… You win. Yes, you’re right; I’d love to try and settle down with him. We’re still getting to know each other, but he seems like the kind of guy I always dreamed of, you know?” It’s true; when I was a little girl, I used to dream of the perfect guy. He’d be tall, handsome, charming and rich. Kirk’s all that and, besides, he’s got a cut body and he’s hung, and that makes him even better than perfect. “Too bad that he seems to be a die hard player,” I sigh, pushing my plate to the middle of the table. I’ve had it with this soup; I’m not in the mood to be healthy today.
“Maybe he’s just testing you,” Lana whispers, almost as if she’s thinking out loud. “I mean, just think of it; he’s a bit older than you, he has the money, the experience… All he really needs is someone to settle down with.” She falls silent for a few seconds, biting on her lower lip as she retreats deep into her mind, and then she gives me a nod. “Yup, that’s my bet. He’s probably looking for a relationship, and he’s just testing the waters.”
“Well, that’s a weird way of testing the waters,” I grumble. “Besides, even if you’re right, I can’t think of that right now. I’m meeting Freeway tonight.”
“Oh, still haven’t given up on that guy? That’s my girl. You’re a heartbreaker, Emily, a true rockstar,” she laughs, and I don’t even know if I should laugh with her or just tear my hair out.
“I can’t even tell if you’re happy for me, or just plain mocking me,” I sigh, and her reply comes fast.
“It’s a little bit of both,” she admits, but then her grin turns into a soft smile. “Relax, Emily… I’m sure that in the end everything will work out.”
Pursing my lips, I look down at my unfinished soup and take a deep breath. Yeah, whenever I’m the writer of the story, I always make sure to wrap everything up with a perfect little bow; my two favorites words, besides ‘The End’, are ‘Happy Ending’.
Unfortunately for me, happy endings are never guaranteed when it comes to real life.