“Tampons, Yasmin!” she whisper-yells at me, and I can’t help myself; I burst into laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“That’s your lady business?”
I can’t see her face, but from the irritated tone of her voice I can clearly imagine her scowling at me. “What do you call it?”
“Period. It’s called a period. Menstruation. Menstrual cycle, whatever.”
A few people who pass by me on their way to or from the library give me confused looks, but I ignore them.
“Well, I don’t want people to know about my…”
“Lady business?” I ask, cracking up once again. It’s too funny not to, not that Callie appreciates my humor.
“Ugh, I hate you!”
“No, you don’t. Besides, you need me. So, what’s up?”
“I’m at Hayden’s, and I completely forgot to pack some…”
“Tampons?” I supply, because seriously, what’s the big deal? It’s not like women all over the world aren’t facing the same problem as we speak and have been for, oh, I don’t know, since the beginning of the world?
“Yeah.”
“Should I ask for a brand or will that be too much?”
“I hate you.”
“Why don’t you go and buy them yourself?”
“Um… because I’m bleeding?”
I cringe. “That bad?”
“You have no idea. Can you pick some up or what?”
“Sure thing, I can get them,” I say, already on the move. Still, I can’t help but ask, “Where is Hayden?”
“I’m not asking Hayden to pick up my tampons!” she yells defensively.
“Oh, so you’re fine with him doing all the dirty things…”
“They’re not dirty,” she interrupts. “Besides, he isn’t home. He and the guys went to the gym.”
I feel a pang of… something. Disappointment? Relief? I’m not sure, but I don’t want to question it further, so I just push it back. Instead, I concentrate on Callie and her little problem.
“They’re not dirty to you. Regardless, so why can’t he buy your freaking tampons?”
“Yasmin!”
“I’m just asking.”
“Will you get them for me or not?”
“Of course I will. You sit tight.”
She sighs loudly on the other side. “Thank you.”
“You can thank me later, but just so we’re clear, that’s a big minus in the boyfriend department.”
The space by the curb just in front of Hayden’s house is empty, so I park my car. My clammy fingers tighten around the steering wheel as I look at the looming house in front of me.
He isn’t here, I say to myself for the umpteenth time since I hung up with Callie. Callie said so herself.
I haven’t seen Nixon since that night. The night we had wild sex all night long, that ended with me waking up at noon with a headache, a serious case of bed hair, and an empty bed. I’m not sure at what point he snuck out, but when I opened my eyes he was gone.
If the whole room hadn’t smelled of Nixon and sex, I would have thought it was all just a dream, but it hadn’t been a dream, and he’d done exactly what I asked for.
Just one night.
Then why did it leave me with an uncomfortable feeling in my belly?
Get a grip, Yas.
I grab the box from the passenger seat and slide out of my car, closing and locking the door before crossing the short distance to the front porch. I’m surprised when the door doesn’t burst open that instant with how impatient Callie was on the phone, but nope, it stays firmly closed.
Sighing, I press the doorbell and wait.
A full minute passes, and I’m about to pull out my phone to see where the devil she is when the door opens.
“Oh, finally. What took you…” I look up and blink, the words dying on my lips when my eyes lock with the stormy, blue-gray irises of Nixon Cole.
“You’re not Callie,” I state, dumbfounded.
Nixon stops mid-step, clearly surprised to see me too, but regains his wit quickly. A lazy smile slowly spreads over his mouth, making his dimples pop out. My eyes dart to the little hollow in his cheek, remembering how it felt to kiss him. “No, I don’t think I am.”
Licking my lower lip that suddenly feels awfully dry, I zero my gaze somewhere over his shoulder, anything not to look at his smug face. “Well, I’m looking for Callie.”
Well, I’m looking for Callie? What the hell, Yasmin?
I don’t think I could have sounded more awkward if I wanted to. But I was so not ready to see him.
He wasn’t supposed to be here!
Judging by the faint scent of sweat still clinging to his skin, and a pair of sweats hanging loose on his hips that I’m so not staring at, he probably wasn’t until recently.
That’s just my luck.
The side of his mouth tips up in a smirk, the same one he had when he went down on me just before he buried his face in my pussy, licking, and sucking until all I could do was scream.
My face heats at the image. He must see it too, because his smile only grows bigger.
“Callie, huh? Any special reason for that?”
“Except that she’s my best friend?” My fingers clench, and I remember the package that’s the sole reason for me coming here in the first place. “Well, I had a little something to deliver to her, but since you’re here, I guess you can do the honors.”
I thrust the tampon box into his hands. His long fingers clasp around it, brushing against my skin and making me shiver. I pull back, breaking the contact.
“What was so important that…” Nixon looks down, the words dying on his lips when he sees what he’s holding. He all but drops the box, but manages to catch it before it hits the ground. “Are you shitting me?”
“What? Never saw tampons before, Nixon? I have to say, I’m kind of disappointed.”
“I was just not expecting…” He lifts his head. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“I made my delivery, you might be useful and get those to Cals,” I say over my shoulder. I’m already halfway down the driveaway. Just a little bit more, and I’ll be safely in my car.
“You’re running away, Yasmin!”
“Am not.”
I totally am. But what am I supposed to do? He wasn’t supposed to be here. And I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready to see him. Wasn’t ready to remember all the things he did to me that night. Wasn’t ready to feel this way when he touched me.
“Say what you want, we both know the truth.”
“The only truth I know is that you’re delusional.” I open my car door. Almost there. “Oh, and if I were you, I’d hurry up on that.” I wave in the direction of the box in his hand. “I’d say things were pretty critical when Cals called.”
NIXON
“Who was that?” Zane peeks from the kitchen as soon as I close the front door, a water bottle in his hand. His eyes, bulging out of his eye sockets, fall down to the box I’m still clutching tightly in my hand. “Dude, why do you have tampons?”