I just lay there and enjoyed it.
Then my alarm went off…again.
He stilled before pulling the blanket off.
“What a fucking bitch.” I reached for the phone on the floor again.
“You must have put it on snooze.”
“Whatever.” I grabbed the phone and stabbed my finger into the screen before I turned it off altogether. “Damn cockblock. Can’t you see I’m trying to get laid right now?” I threw the phone down again.
He moved back on top of me. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to try to get laid.” His mouth moved to my neck, and he kissed me again, this time smothering me, pressing me into the mattress. “Because nothing is going to keep me away from you.”
The bathroom was just as stark as the rest of the house. I did my business, washed my hands and face, brushed my teeth with some toothpaste on my finger, and then returned to the bedroom.
He stood in his closet, which only had a couple articles of clothing inside. He grabbed a few things and started to get dressed. He didn’t shave or do his hair. He only brushed his teeth. He still looked incredible, but with that messy hair, he didn’t exactly look ready for the office.
“Did you recently move here?”
He sat at the edge of the bed and put on his shoes. “No. Why?”
“You just don’t have a lot of stuff.” I sat beside him, slipping on my heels.
He shrugged. “I’m a minimalist kind of guy.”
“I just figured your wife took everything in the divorce.”
He rose to his feet then grabbed his phone. “Yeah, that didn’t help.”
When I was ready, we left his apartment and headed to the street.
“I’m running late, so I’m going to grab a cab.” I raised my hand, and immediately, a yellow taxi pulled over.
“Alright, sweetheart.” His arm circled my waist, and he gave me a quick kiss. “See you later.”
I watched him turn away before I got into the cab. “See you later.”
Eighteen
Charlie
“Why was it weird?” I sat across from Carson at the bar because we’d decided to get a drink after work.
“I can’t explain it…” She held on to her wineglass as she searched for the best way to describe it. “It just seemed like he didn’t have anything. The apartment was really empty. There was nothing in his fridge…”
“He’s a bachelor. It’s not that surprising.”
“You’re a bachelor.”
“But he was married. Maybe he’s still used to having a wife, so he doesn’t know how to shop for groceries and pick out furniture, you know?”
“Maybe…but he seems pretty independent.”
I shrugged and took another drink. “He’s only been a divorced for a year. He’s starting his life over.”
“I get that. But… I don’t know.”
“And maybe he has a ton of student loan payments or something. Old medical bills. Maybe he just can’t afford to furnish his place.”
“That’s fine if that’s the case, but then he shouldn’t be taking me out for a hundred-dollar dinner.” She swirled her glass and watched the wine spin in a circular motion.
“He was trying to impress you.”
“An expensive meal doesn’t impress me. And a man like that doesn’t need to do anything to impress me.”
I drank my beer again, not alarmed by what Carson was telling me.
“And he didn’t have any clothes. He had, like, a couple shirts in his closet and a few jeans.”
“His wife threw them away,” I reasoned. “Isn’t that the cliché? Throwing his clothes out the window and onto the street?”
“But she’s the one who cheated—unless that’s a lie.”
I knew it was Carson’s nature to pick at things until she got to the truth. That was just how she was. It was why she was such a good investigative journalist. She found plot holes and kept poking until the lies unraveled. “Give him the benefit of the doubt, alright?”
“I am—”
“Don’t blow this by assuming he’s a liar.”
“I’m not assuming anything. I just know there’s something off… I can feel it.”
“Maybe you’re overthinking it. Maybe he lost a lot of money in the divorce. He’s broke now. Maybe he had to sell some of his clothes. Who knows? You just made progress with this guy. Don’t fuck it up by poking and prodding. Who cares if he’s poor?”
She sighed. “I couldn’t care less if he’s poor. That’s not the issue.”
“I would let it go.”
She stared into her glass for a while, still swirling. “Here’s another thing—”
“Oh Jesus…”
“No, listen.” She held up her hand to silence me. “I put on the dress I wore the night before, because I didn’t have anything else. I went to my apartment to get ready for work.”
“And…?”
“He just threw on a t-shirt and jeans.”
I still wasn’t following. “And…?”
“There’s no way he wears a t-shirt and jeans to work.”
“I mean, that’s not that crazy—”
“He’s a financial advisor for Clydesdale Software. I’m sure he doesn’t dress that way at work.”
That was a valid point. “Huh. Maybe he went to get breakfast?”
“And he didn’t do his hair or anything. He just brushed his teeth.”
“Maybe he’s off today.”
“On a weekday?” she asked incredulously.
“Or he goes in late, and he was going to go back and fix himself up?”
“But do you see what I mean?” she pressed. “Something feels off, and I can’t figure out what it is.”
I didn’t believe Dax was a bad guy, and if he was hiding something, it was harmless. “Maybe you’re right. But you need to give him the benefit of the doubt. You’re starting over, and that means trusting people until they give you a reason not to.”
“Well, he’s kinda giving me a reason not to. Maybe I can look—”
“No.” I already knew where she was going with this.
She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I can’t do that.”
“I’m sure whatever he’s hiding is personal. And if you’re wrong, you’re going to sabotage this relationship. Maybe he got fired, and he’s in between jobs. Maybe he doesn’t even work at that company.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “And you think that’s not alarming? I don’t want to be with a guy who lies to me.”
“I’m just saying, give him the benefit of the doubt.”
She grabbed her phone and opened her social media apps.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking him up. See what I find.”
“I already asked him. He doesn’t do social media.”
She set her phone down and lifted her chin, her eyebrow raised. “The only people who say that are over sixty-five.”