“OK.” I hoped my expression read Cool and Detached, but my stomach was churning.
“I’ve been a dick all night, and I can’t keep it up.” He cocked his head. “But that will be the only time I ever say something like that. I can always keep it up.”
I remained stone-faced.
“Wow. You’re really mad. OK.” He cleared his throat. “Here’s the thing. I’m…”
His eyes searched mine, for what I don’t know. It almost seemed like he was going to make a big announcement, but couldn’t find the words.
“You’re what, Miles?”
“I’m moving to San Francisco,” he blurted.
“Huh?”
He dropped his hands from my shoulders. “Yeah. I’m moving to San Francisco. I’ve always wanted to check out that area, and I’m kinda done with Detroit, so I figure now’s the time.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Good for you. I hope you’re happy there. That still doesn’t explain your behavior tonight.”
“Oh, right. That. Um…I was concerned.”
I raised my eyebrows. “About?”
“About your feelings. These last few days have been…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Intense.”
“And?” I wondered if he was going where I thought he was going with this, and if so, I might be up for kicking him in the nuts. He better not blame me for that intensity. It was his idea to bring me here.
“And you’re in a really weak and vulnerable state right now, having just broken up with Dan, and things with us just sort of got serious quickly.”
“Serious?” I rolled my eyes. “We fucked in your closet last night, Miles. That isn’t serious.” I knew that wasn’t what he meant, but I couldn’t let him see he’d been right to worry about my growing feelings for him.
His face went a little red. “OK, maybe that part wasn’t serious, but it seemed like…feelings got serious. And I think we should just take a moment to remember that we’re friends, that in the end, we don’t want the same things. I don’t want the whole marriage and house and kids kind of life, and you do. So we just have to make sure things stay friendly.”
I screwed up my face. “So that’s what you were doing tonight? Being an asshole so I didn’t get feelings for you and you wouldn’t leave me heartbroken when you go to San Francisco?”
He looked a little relieved that I’d explained it better than he had. “Yeah. That’s it. Exactly.”
“Oh my God.” I shook my head. “Well, you can relax, Miles. Despite the nice time we’ve had, your little display of assholery tonight was quite sufficient to remind me that we are not compatible for the long haul. And yes, I did just break up with Dan, but I have to say, I’m not feeling all that weak and vulnerable right now. In fact, I feel stronger than I have in a long time.”
“Good. I’m really glad to hear that.” He gave me a hopeful smile. “Does that mean we can still have sex tonight?”
“No. We will not be having any more sex. Not because your dick is some kind of mystical love wand that will put me under your spell, but because you’re right—we are friends and need to remember that. This last week has been totally insane, but it’s time to go back to reality.” I put a hand on my chest. “I’m going back up North, where I own a home and a business and have roots and family. Those are the things that are important to me.” I poked his chest. “You can go flying off to anywhere you please and fuck all the girls you like, watch cartoons and porn, eat cereal, drink beer, and never have to worry about me again.”
His face fell, and I swear to God his eyes teared up. “I’ll always worry about you, Natalie. I just…can’t be what you want.”
“Stop it, Miles. Just stop it.” I was doing my best to control my emotions, but he wasn’t making it easy. “I’ve never asked you to be anything other than what you are. Do I think we could have been good together once upon a time? Yes, I’ll admit it. Do I think it would work now? No. Because you were right—we don’t want the same kind of life. You’re not capable of it, and you’ve shown me that repeatedly.” I put my hands on his chest and pushed him backward. “Now get out. I need to pee and then we are going to sleep. I’d like to leave early tomorrow.”
I shoved him out, shut the door, and locked it. Then I stared at myself in the mirror, hands gripping the edge of the sink, legs trembling.
Don’t cry. He will hear you.
And you have nothing to cry about.
I got on the toilet, like peeing might distract me from crying, but instead I found myself peeing and crying, which, if you’ve never done it, is probably the most pathetic you will ever feel as a human being. You realize you have no control whatsoever and everything is horrible and you might as well just give up.
Angry with myself, I balled up some toilet paper and wiped my nose. I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. Was I sad about the argument? Was I sad about Miles moving to San Francisco? Was I just scared of being alone? I thought about it for a moment, and decided it wasn’t that. I could’ve handled being alone after the breakup with Dan. What I couldn’t handle was this crush on Miles that couldn’t go anywhere. But it was my own fault—I’d let myself think I could turn off the emotional switch and just fuck around, but that wasn’t me. And now I was left with these powerful unrequited feelings for him, feelings that he’d never return. I dissolved into tears one more time, and gave myself permission to mourn something that could never be.
After a few minutes, I pulled myself together, cleaned up and opened the door, switching off the bathroom light. The bedroom was completely dark, which I was glad about because I didn’t want him to see my puffy, tearstained face. I felt my way along the foot of the bed to the side I’d slept on last night, crawled in and pulled the covers up to my shoulders, totally focused on not touching him.
Except that once I was there, I missed him. I wanted to touch him. But I couldn’t let him know I missed him. The touch had to be accidental.
I let one foot stray toward him. It strayed, and it strayed, and it strayed…nothing.
I bolted upright. Felt around.
He wasn’t there.
What an asshole!
Really? He wouldn’t even sleep next to me if there was no promise of sex?
Fuming, I threw myself back onto the pillow and punched it a few times. Good! I’m glad you’re not here, asshole! I didn’t want your stupid amazing body next to me anyway! I’d have probably ended up banging you in spite of myself!
Wide awake, I shoved my face into the pillow. It smelled like him. I missed him. I wanted him. Even though I knew exactly what he was and that sex would probably only make me feel worse afterward…I still wanted him. What the hell was the matter with me?
After lying there sleeplessly for at least a half hour, battling with my urge, I got out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs. The TV was on with no sound and Miles was asleep on his back on the couch. He’d taken his jacket and shoes off, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned and untucked. I bit my lip, wishing more than anything it was my place to take his hand and guide him up the stairs. Peel the rest of his clothes off him. Pull the sheets up to his chest and tuck my body in next to his.
But it wasn’t. He didn’t want that.
He’d made that clear tonight.
So I went back up to his bed and curled up alone, telling myself this was how it had to be.
I am the biggest asshole on the planet. I know this.
I knew it while I was acting like a dick at the restaurant. I knew it on the unbearably silent ride home. I knew it while I sat berating myself on the couch as she packed her bags upstairs. I knew it as I lied to her about San Francisco—where the fuck had I come up with that, anyway? I had totally been about to tell her I loved her, and panicked—and I knew it when I heard her feet on the stairs a moment ago.