Page 121 of Fate Fiction

“I’m okay walking myself, truly,” my feet would manage on the walk back. Barely, in these boots. “I’ve gone here often solo.”

His face twisted uncomfortably at the idea of me trudging through the city alone, “it would make me feel better if I got you home safe.” He scratched at the back of his neck, “or if you’re up for it we can go back to my place and—” he glanced down at the sidewalk.

“And what?” I cocked a brow.

“Do more of whatever this is.”

A smile spread across my cheeks. I’d cosplay as a version of myself that wasn’t petrified of Evan’s affection when I had a chance to accept it.

He lived close by, a few blocks in the opposite direction of my place. He entered the building—which looked like one of the nicest hotels I had ever stayed in—and I followed him through the lobby. My apartment was the first floor of a multifamily clad in white clapboard, this was an new money luxury building with chairs in the lobby that probably cost more than my rent.

I shouldn’t be here, Evan or not.

The front desk attendant nodded and smiled at him and looked curiously at me. Our steps quietly echoed on the marble floor as he led me to the elevator.

The elevator ride up to his apartment was an excruciating ninety seconds, each of us pressed against a corner, both afraid of what would happen if we got too close. This was now a dangerous tightrope we were walking.

The hallway was silent, I trailed behind his click-clacking boots until we reached a door. Evan stepped inside and visibly relaxed. We were out of the public eye.

“I hate this apartment,” he grumbled as he tossed his jacket onto a chrome barstool. “It’s like if you asked a guy in 1997 to design the bachelor pad of the future.”

“I don’t know, I think it has its charm,” I yanked off my boots and propped them by the door. I placed my jacket over a dining chair as if it was my spot all along before resting my elbows on the kitchen island.

I assessed the sparking black quartz countertops and the shiny black lacquer cabinets in the kitchen. The whole place had a cool, sterile feel. Like no one actually lived here and it more so was the representation of the concept of an apartment.

I looked around. A few stray bananas sat in the fruit bowl, also chrome. There were dishes in the sink, not enough to look overtly messy but enough to make it look like someone was occupying the space. The corner of a brown takeout bag stuck out of the chrome trash can.

Evan headed straight to the fridge. “You want a drink? I don’t have much since I try to stay out of this chrome nightmare as much as I can. I have some beers and a bottle of less expensive wine.” The fridge was sparse. Its cool fluorescent light was an extension of the cool fluorescent light of the apartment. Evan’s temporary home was basically one giant fridge.

“I’m good with water…I should probably sober up.”

Probably should. Like how I probably should be a responsible adult and not sleep with Evan tonight, despite the little sonar signals pinging between my brain and my nether regions telling me otherwise.

He nodded and pulled out an expensive bottle of water and slid it across the counter, cracking open his own bottle in the meantime. He gestured and led me towards the couch.

“So,” he said when he settled onto the cushion. They were stiff and obviously rarely used. I wouldn’t be surprised if Evan was the first tenant who sat down in this apartment.

“So,” I replied in kind, brushing imaginary dust off my skirt.

“I’m going to be crystal clear, I want to fuck you tonight. That is, if you’ll let me.”

I nearly choked on my water. It went down the wrong pipe and I started sputtering and coughing. Not cool. Nor casual.

Evan started laughing. “Sorry, I know I’m being direct but I feel like this moment is fleeting and I don’t want to lose you again without the chance to touch you.”

Now my heart hitched, right when I was getting my breathing back towards some semblance of normalcy. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that this night was the best night I’d had in years, but I decided to be honest too. “It’s not a good idea, we just started figuring how to be friends with each other⁠—”

“Do you want it, though? Because something tells me that you might.” He scooted closer on the couch, warmth was radiating from him, I could smell the alcohol on his lips.

“Evan—”

He was magnetic, I found myself leaning in towards him.

Maybe fate was being kind to me this evening.

“I’m asking you. I’ll take you home right now, if that’s what you want.” Evan placed one of his hands on the couch cushion, so close beside my thigh I could sense his heat.

“It’s not what I want. At all,” our lips were millimeters apart, both hovering with expectation as they prepared for their meeting. “But it’s what I should do,” I barely whispered.