Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“I know, I’m a little worried about him. Have you spoken to him this week?”
“No, and he’s not answering his phone. It’s switched off. We’ve been trying all day.”
Fuck…something’s wrong.
He would never switch his phone off in case a patient needed him. “Okay, thanks.”
“Ask him to call us when you find him.”
“Okay.” I hang up in a rush and dial his number again. It goes straight to voicemail.
Fuck!
I text him.
Nathan, I’m worried. Where are you?
Check in with me or I’m calling the police
to come and break into your apartment.
A text bounces back.
I’m fine.
What?
I screw up my face in surprise. I dial his number again.
“Yes!” he snaps, exasperated.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” I bark.
“I’m trying to relax.”
“So, you let me worry about you because you can’t be bothered to answer your damn phone?” I shake my head in disgust. “I’m coming over.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to see you.”
My heart drops. “What?”
“I just… I just need some time, Lize.”
“For what?”
“To work myself out.”
“Nathe, is this about me being angry with you? I’m sorry okay?”
“This has nothing to do with that.”
I stare at the wall. “Are you okay?”
He stays silent.
“Can I come over?”
“Lize...”
“Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.” He sighs sadly. “I promise, I’m fine.”
My eyes well with tears. He’s not; I can hear it in his voice.
“Can we do something later in the week?” I ask.
“If you want.”
“And we go away on Saturday.” I smile hopefully.
He stays silent.
“You still want to go, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
We both hang on the line, waiting for the other to speak.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Do you?”
“I do.”
He inhales deeply. “I’ll call you tomorrow, babe.”
“Okay, night.”
“Night.”
* * *
It’s just gone 6:00 p.m. when I get off the bus on the corner of my block. It’s raining, and I have no idea what I’m having for dinner. I didn’t get any meat out of the freezer this morning. My routine is well and truly fucked up. I can’t be bothered to stop and get takeout. I guess I’ll have toast or something. I make my way to my building and notice someone standing to the side in the shadows, under the awning, out of the rain.
It’s Nathan.
“Hi.” I stop. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you go inside?”
His hands are in his pockets as he stares at me.
“What’s wrong?” I step toward him.
He stares at me for a long time. “Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
He gestures to the air between us. “This.”
I frown up at him.
“I can’t fight it any longer. I tried, Eliza, but I just can’t.”
Ever so slowly, he takes my face in his hand, and he bends to slowly kiss me. His tongue gently sweeps through my open lips, and I feel it to my toes.
“Nathan,” I breathe.
He cuts me off with another open-mouthed kiss, and my eyes close instinctively.
What am I doing? I pull out of his kiss. “N-nathan.” I splutter.
His face falls.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I suggest softly. I take his hand and we walk into my building, and into the elevator. My heart is racing. What the hell just happened?
He watches me intently, as if he’s scared I’m about to run. We make it to my floor and head down the corridor to my apartment.
I open the door, and he takes me in his arms again. His lips softly take mine, and oh…
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I fucked up,” he murmurs against my lips.
Wait…. I’m kissing Nathan…. what the hell? I pull out of his grip. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you.” He presses his lips together and takes my hands in his.
I stare up at him in shock.
“I don’t want to be friends anymore. I have feelings for you, and I have had for months.”
“What?”
“I want to be lovers. I want you to know the other side of me. I can’t take it anymore. I know I’ve been acting weird but it’s because my feelings have changed.”
“How can you possibly like me?” I whisper.
He stares at me, as if he’s searching for the right thing to say.
“You… you told me yourself,” I splutter. “You told me on the first day we met that I was the wrong sex for you.” I begin to feel confused and hurt and I step back from him. I need some distance between us.
“I didn’t plan on this, Eliza.”
“You told me you liked Stephanie just this weekend.” I throw up my hands in disgust. “So, what? You like us both now? So, you’re like a straight player now? Should I take a fucking ticket and get in line?”
“I don’t want her. I want you.”
“Then why did you tell me you liked her?”
“Because I was going to try and go out with her to see if I could make my body work with a woman’s.”