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The apartment is too quiet when I enter. I used my key because I know she wouldn’t have opened the door if I knocked. She must be asleep. I walk into the bedroom and see her lying with her back to me. She hasn’t moved so I’m assuming she’s asleep. I watch her for a few minutes in silence. My heart aches just to touch her, to soothe her, to tell her everything will be alright. I just wish I knew if it will be. Probably a good thing she’s asleep. I’m too fucking angry with my mother to even talk to Natasha now. I will only end up fighting with her again which is exactly what my bitch of a mother wants. I can’t believe she brought up Amelie…that’s low, even for her. How in the fuck am I going to explain that one? She might be the one punching holes in the door this time.
I hear the key in the door and I quickly jump under the covers. I am way too mad to speak to him but he’s damn lucky he had the guts to come. He walks to the bedroom door and I watch his reflection in the mirror. He doesn’t say anything and blows out a breath as he walks back into the lounge room while running his hands through his hair. I hear the jug flick on and then fussing about in the kitchen. What is he doing? The toaster pops. What in the world? He’s making toast and a cup of tea. I hear the television flick on. Now I’ve seen it all. Actually I’m hungry too. The wicked witch of the west killed my appetite at dinner. How does she live with herself? I lie in bed and try to think of this evening’s events from his side. It wasn’t his fault his mother was a bitch, but then he didn’t defend me either—it was Cam who told her to shut up. Was Josh really just trying to diffuse the situation? This is a mess. And the Amelie thing. My heart aches as I ponder this one; he has lied to me again. Even if they are just friends she obviously has a hold over him if he drives her everywhere for horse stuff. She lives in his country estate and she’s a veterinarian. I can’t compete with this shit. I hate horses with a passion. I roll over for the hundredth time and punch the pillow. A depressing thought crosses my mind. Even if Josh and I have the guts to come clean about our relationship or whatever this is between us, our lives are just so different that we might not work out in the long run anyway. Do we even have anything in common? I mean, honestly, apart from sex what do we have other than memories? A lump forms in my throat as I try my hardest to suppress my tears. How do I walk away from him without this hurt? I need to get out of this relationship—it’s going to break me I just know it. It’s not healthy for either of us. An hour later he comes into the bedroom after a shower, with a towel around him. It has taken all of my strength not to go out into the lounge room and demand answers but I know I can’t fight with him tonight. I don’t have the strength. I will end up crying like a baby. I feel weak and it’s an emotion I have become way too familiar with lately. I have never felt so weak in my life. It’s true, I feel better with him here and if we fight and he leaves I will just put myself through hell again anyway. If I just act asleep maybe we will both actually get some sleep and maybe I will calm down enough so I can actually articulate what I want to say. What do I want to say? He pulls the blankets back and silently slips in behind me, pulling me into an embrace. I pretend to be asleep.
“I hate these fucking flannelette pyjamas,” he whispers as he cuddles into my back. I smile on the inside. He gently kisses my hair and blows out a breath. “We will talk about it in the morning precious,” he whispers. “That’s if my balls haven’t exploded by then.” I smile as I hear the last words he has spoken. I must admit, all this dirty talk and no action is about to explode my ovaries as well. Glad I’m not the only hornbag in the house. I stifle a giggle as the last thought runs through my head.
“You find this funny,” he whispers and I roll over to face him.
“No,” I pull a sad face and he leans in and kisses my cheek.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He gives me a sad smile.
“I’m mad with you, Josh.”
“I know,” he whispers and he runs his fingers up and down my arm. We stay silent, both lost in our own thoughts while looking at each other.
“I can’t handle fighting with you tonight. We haven’t spoken in three days. Let me stay and we will talk about it in the morning.” I narrow my eyes as I sum up his words. He acts like he cares. Does he truly care or is it an act?
“You won’t be here in the morning, Josh. We both know that,” I sigh.
“You know why I never stay with you presh?” My eyes tear up and I shake my head. I can’t say the reason I know out loud because it just hurts too much. He can’t even bear to look at me as he does the walk of shame. He’s just that ashamed that we have been together and every time I think of this reality my heart breaks just that little bit further.
“Because I can’t handle saying goodbye to you,” he whispers. “I never want to say goodbye. This is not easy on me either you know.” His voice betrays a deep sadness, much like the one I’m feeling myself. The tightness in my throat hurts as I try to suppress the tears that threaten again. Stop saying things like that. You’re fucking with my head.
“Baby, don’t cry,” he whispers as he wipes a lone tear that rolls down my face.
“Josh, we are not going to make it, are we? The hill is just too steep. We have too much against us”. My heart rate picks up as I try to grip the reality of the situation, my lip quivers and I sob out loud. There is no way out of this. If I stay I get hurt. If I leave…I can’t even face that reality and pain lances through my chest. I already know what awaits me. He stays silent as he sums up my words and he leans his forehead in to touch mine. I run my fingers through the sideburns of his hair and down his jawline along his heavy stubble and his eyes close at the contact. He has an air of resignation about him. I can feel it. I know, because I have it myself.
“Can’t you just shut up and look pretty?” he whispers as he bites his lip. I stifle a giggle. I did not expect him to say that but it’s frigging funny. Trust him to put our saying into that context. I know in my heart I don’t have him for long. In fact tonight is probably going to be our last night together. Once I give it to him an ultimatum tomorrow, and I will be. I know he won’t hang around, that’s if I even hear from him after I wake up alone. We both know it’s only a matter of time until his mother gets to him.
“Josh, I think you are probably better suited to Amelie,” I whisper. “You should go home to her.” My heart breaks as I close my eyes. I mentally kick myself. I swore that I wouldn’t do this tonight, but I’m not strong enough to stop myself. He grabs my chin and rips it up to his face.
“You listen to me,” he growls. “You are the only woman I want. I don’t want Amelie. I. Want. You.”
My eyes tear up again. “Baby I can’t do this…this casual thing. We are either together or we are not. It’s messing with my head too much, Josh. It’s breaking my heart.”
He swallows and nods. “Mine too.” I frown at him—he says
the most confusing things. What does that mean?
He stays silent. “Then let’s be together,” he whispers. “I want to be with you, Tash. Do you want to be with me is the question?”
My eyes meet his. “Yes, you know I do.” He gently grabs my face with his two hands and passionately swipes his tongue between my lips.
“Then, be mine.” The finality in his tone sends my pheromones into overdrive and goose bumps scatter over my body.
“Are you mine, Josh?”
He smiles. “I told you already. Completely.” There is that word that I love again. Completely. He kisses me again more urgently. “If I rip these pyjamas will you throw them out?” he smiles into my neck.
I giggle. “Then what would I wear to bed?” He grabs my behind and grinds his hips forward, circling his pubic bone against my clitoris.
“Me.” I smile, hmm, I do like the sound of that. “You think you want to be my girlfriend but there are stipulations you know?” I smile as I listen to the words he is saying. Girlfriend, I like it, I like it a lot.
“Like what?” I whisper.
“Definitely no pyjamas, and I need a lot more sex than you have been giving me.” He has that look in his eyes that I love, the one that makes me scream in ecstasy. “You’ve had me on rations and I’m not coping. A man’s not a camel you know,” I smile as his oral assault moves lower.
“Tell me something. As your girlfriend how often will I be given sex? I mean, you’re not the only one who has a healthy appetite.”
