The Two-Night One-Night Stand (14 page)

The sound of a plow scraping down my street brings our attention away from the uneasy conversation and over to my window.

“Even with the plow, all I see is white. I can’t believe all this snow. This is crazy. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet.”

“The ER is gonna be crazy tonight.”

“Tonight? You have to work?” Her eyes open wide, looking back down at the piling snow.

“Yeah, and if the snow doesn’t let up soon, I guess I’ll be digging out the snow boots and hoofing it to the hospital.”

“No snow days for you,” she says.

“Nope. But I guess you don’t get a snow day either.”

“True. In fact, I should probably dig out my phone and get to work.” She walks back over to the couch and shuffles through her purse. “Do you have a charger?” She holds up her cell. “I usually work from my laptop, but I guess today my phone will have to do.”

“You can use my laptop,” I offer while digging through a drawer for my charger.

“That’s okay. Besides, if I use your laptop, what will you look up all that porn you watch on?”

I freeze. I don’t even blink. Kill me. Kill me now.

“Matthew, I’m sorry.” She bites down on her lip to keep from laughing. “See, this is that immaturity again. I can’t control it.” I’m still frozen in horror and I’m pretty sure I still haven’t blinked. Sobering up from her laughter, she takes a deep breath and grabs the charger from my still, lifeless hand. “Would it help if I told you I watch porn too?”

My head springs up.

What did she just say?

Peen springs up too.

What did she just say?

“You do?” I ask cautiously. This might be a trick, but nonetheless, Peen and I wait on the edge of our seats for her to answer.

“Matthew, most of my work is done from home, where I spend my day in front of a computer. So, of course I do. Geez, until the night with you, it had been a year since I had sex.” Her voice drops, mumbling the rest out. “And a girl’s got needs.”

Marry me.

Marry her.

“Thank you.” I cough, adjusting my pants with a slight tug before sitting down on the couch. “That does help,” I say, and she laughs, dropping down next to me.

She curls her legs underneath her bottom and goes to work typing into her phone. I click off the television and pick up the book I’ve been reading from the end table. It’s hard concentrating with her so close, but at least I’m giving the illusion of being busy. I read the words on the page over and over but the only thoughts present in my mind are Holly not having sex for a year and Holly watching porn because she’s got needs.

An hour later her phone gets placed on my coffee table and she rubs her eyes, then stretches her arms up over her head. “That is a much smaller screen than I’m used to when it comes to work, but at least I’m caught up on tweets.”

“Do you respond to every tweet?” I close the book. I’m only three pages further along than when I picked it up an hour ago.

“If someone reaches out to the corporation directly, I’ll respond. Mostly, I favorite, retweet, tweet a few of my own, search hashtags that deal with our clients.” She crosses her legs and shifts to face me on the couch. “Okay, last time I did most of the talking, and now that I know who you really are, I think it’s your turn to talk.”

“Ask me anything.” I take a sip of coffee. The caffeine helps dull the lingering headache I woke up with.

“Hmm.” She presses her finger against her bottom lip. “Working in the ER, I bet you’ve seen it all. What’s the craziest thing you ever saw?”

“This week? This month? Or this year?” I laugh. I haven’t seen it all, but in the short time I’ve been there, I’ve certainly seen a lot. There’s a shitload of crazy things I could share with her. Severed fingers in sandwich bags, gouged eyeballs being held in with duct tape, or if she wants real crazy, I could tell her about all the objects that get removed from rectums. People sure do love to test the boundaries of their assholes. Although, I should probably refrain from sharing anything ass related after last night’s little fiasco.

“Just tell me your most memorable moment,” she says, and when she phrases it like that, I know my answer instantly.

“It was that night when I saw you.”

“You mean when you saw Nick.” She rolls her eyes and puffs out a laugh. “God, he was awful.”

“No, I mean when I saw
you
.” It didn’t matter that she was there with another guy that night, when I saw her standing there, it was hands down my most memorable moment. “I had been thinking about you so much since our night together, and then to actually see you again… it was a good night. Definitely my most memorable moment.”

WHAT DOES THAT mean? How am I supposed to take that?

Matthew is making this situation impossible.

“Want to watch a mrr… movie?” I ask with a slight stutter, grabbing his remote from the end table. “Or another episode of
Jeopardy!
?”

We need a distraction. Getting to know each other better like this is not a good idea. I’m not supposed to like the one-night stand. The rebound. The awkward guy who threatened to split me like a log. But it’s getting hard and I can’t help it.

I think I like him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Seeing you that night….” He stops talking when I meet his gaze. I’m anxious for him to continue even though I’m not even sure what it is that I want him to say. He pushes his glasses into place and sits back on the couch, turning his attention to the TV. “We can watch anything you want.”

I exhale a shaky breath, unsure if it’s relief or disappointment running through me. My hand trembles as I click the remote and put on another episode of
Jeopardy!
Questions, answers, thinking, hopefully that will be enough to keep our brains focused and away from this weird… whatever
it is between us. In a few hours, I’m going to leave and our little one-
and-a-half
-night stand will be over. No sense in confusing things any further.

Alex gives the answers and the contestants respond with the questions. We watch in silence until Matthew’s phone sounds. He types, exchanging a few texts back and forth. “It’s Jeremy,” he volunteers. I watch as he reads, makes a pained expression, and types back.

“Are things weird ’cause of what happened with you guys last night?” I’m both curious and nosy.

“Not too bad. I’m having a tough time explaining the pizza place though.”

My toes curl as it returns to me. The pizza place. Making out in public. Right in front of Jeremy. The pizza guy yelling to get a room.

“Oh God. That’s right. I’m never going there again.” I hide my face in my hands.

“Yeah, I might be avoiding that place for a while, too.” His mouth stretches down into the yikes position, with wide eyes to match the sentiment.

More images flash before me. The hallway, mushrooms, cinnamon, the puke
I
never cleaned up. “Your floor! Oh shit. I should’ve been the one to clean that up.” Disgusting. I’m horrible. How could I’ve jumped into his shower forgetting all about the revolting mess I’d left on his floor?

“It was nothing. It took two minutes to clean up.” He shrugs it off. “No worries.”

No worries.
Is he for real? If I had done something like that in front of Tyler, it would have been a completely different story. Tyler didn’t do germs. Or patience. Or even kindness, for that matter. After a few little sniffles, I would be banished from his apartment for weeks. Banned from his life until I was back to “normal.”

Huh.

This time when I think about the engagement ring on his fiancée’s finger, it doesn’t sparkle quite as much.

Outside, the wind whips a white cloud of snow past the window and even though it’s warm inside, it sends a shiver up my spine.

“It looks like the snow stopped and now it’s just blowing.” I stretch my head for a better look as the wind howls, sending another large plume of snow circling by. A sharp tack pinches in my chest. If the storm’s over, that means I’ll be leaving soon.

“Yeah, but it’s still gonna take hours before the roads are cleaned up,” he says, glancing over at me.

“Yup, only a few hours before it’s all gone,” I say.

There’s a tinge of disappointment in both of our voices.

Why? We should be glad that the storm is over. I should be happy that things stopped last night before they went too far. Thrilled that we didn’t make the same mistake. But instead things feel… unfinished.

Yes, he’s cute. Yes, he’s sweet. Yes, my body is aching to hurl itself at him. But with only pancakes and maple syrup in my system, there’s nothing to excuse any more reckless behavior.

Picking up the blanket I used last night, I drape it over myself, cuddling into a ball. I try and pretend that the way my body is still trembling is due to the temperature. Even though I know it’s not.

“It’s chilly.” Matthew rubs his hands together next to me on the couch. Okay, now we’re both pretending. He wants under this blanket as badly as I want him under it.

Don’t do this to yourself, Holly.
This won’t go anywhere. It can’t.

“Oh, are you cold?” I lift up the blanket, prompting it to billow out and land over both of us this time.

Big mistake.

Within seconds the heat generating under the blanket is enough to melt the foot and a half of snow covering up this town.

Huge mistake.

I’m overheating. Bursting into flames. I don’t even know what to do with my hands; they twist obsessively on my lap. I glare at the TV screen while a small sheen of sweat starts to form at my hairline.

Final Jeopardy!

The final question gets asked and Matthew doesn’t answer. I peek over. His eyes are two glossy orbs staring into space. There’s a force, an actual pull that causes me to inch over on the couch and rest my head on his arm. Heat sizzles from the skin-on-skin contact and his bicep tightens. Our breaths become halted, staggered. Under the fuzzy blanket, the same pull compels my hand over to rest on his chest, feeling its unsteady rise. Pushing the blanket out of the way, my head slinks down until I’m directly over his heart, hearing it thump out of control.

“What are you doing?” Matthew struggles to say.

“I don’t know.” I seriously don’t but I can’t stop myself. I lift my head from his chest and bring my face in close. My lips hover over his. I stop breathing altogether.

I can see the caution in his eyes; he won’t be the one to make the first move. This is all up to me.

So I kiss him.

Our lips stay soft, move slow. I try not to overthink it. Just enjoy. It’s only a kiss.

But then of course… it isn’t.

The tips of my fingers travel down and sneak their way under his shirt. The warm feel of his skin lures me in closer. My hands slide up his chest and I press my palms against the firm muscles, our kiss going deeper. I hoist my body on top of his, straddling him, bring my hands up to his cheeks, never breaking from the intense kiss.

We stay locked in place. Kissing, soft touches, tangled tongues. I grab the hem of my shirt, raising it over my head and tossing it aside, immediately exposing my bare breasts. I’d forgotten I wasn’t wearing a bra. Straightening up on my knees, I bring my chest to his eye level, daring him to take one of my taut nipples into his mouth. He groans before I feel his tongue connect with my hard pink bud.

My fingers rake through his hair, bringing him over to the other side before the left one gets jealous of all the attention being given to the right. His hands run down my spine in a fluttery touch that tickles me, urging me forward, deeper, his playful licks advancing to enthusiastic sucking.

I boldly keep straightening my body upward, his lips going lower down my belly. This isn’t the typical position for what I’m hoping will come next.

“Up here,” he instructs, patting the back of his couch, all caution gone.

I don’t even question it, doing what I’m told and positioning myself on top of his couch, leaning my bare back against the cold wall. His thumbs hook the sides of my panties, bringing them down slowly over my legs. I let out a whimper as he parts my thighs. Exposed, vulnerable, and overwhelmed with anticipation, I am surely leaving a very wet spot atop his plush tan couch.