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"Jessica, don't," he sighs heavily.
"Don't what?" I try to temper my voice.
"Don't go." He takes a step towards me. "I'm not good at this. Let me explain."
"Why bother?" I ask hoarsely. "There are two sets of rules. One for you and one for me."
"I don't want that." He hangs his head down. "I don't want that anymore."
"What do you want, Nathan?" I push the words at him.
"You," he whispers softly.
Chapter 15
"You want me for tonight and then tomorrow night someone else will be listening to those same words." I take a step back to lean against the couch. I feel deflated, exhausted and worn out from the emotional tennis match we're in the middle of.
"No. There's no one tomorrow. "He moves away from the door and I realize that now is my chance to walk out of the room and his life. My legs don't budge. I can't go. I need to hear what he has to say.
"There will be next week and I'm fine with that," I say the words even though I'm not being completely honest. I had learned quickly how to block out images of him with anyone else. I had to for my own sanity.
"How can you be fine with that? Women aren't fine with that." He picks up my drink from the table and takes a mouthful of the bourbon.
"We agreed to that." I shrug my shoulders. "No complications. Just sex."
"Do you want more?" he asks the question so effortlessly.
"More?" I repeat back certain that I do not understand him.
"More than just a fuck buddy."
It takes me a moment to digest his words. He didn't ask if I wanted him to be more than a fuck buddy. He asked if I wanted more than a fuck buddy.
"Do you?" he presses.
"You're asking if I want a relationship with someone at some point?" I push the words back to him, trying to decipher exactly what he's asking.
"Yes." He empties the glass and sits down on the couch.
"Eventually, sure," I reply. I did want that. I thought I'd have that with Josh but it didn't work.
"You're just happy having one night stands right now?" His words bite into me. He has no idea that he was my one and only one nightstand and unless I'm mistaken, the definition of that doesn't include an emotionally charged conversation like this.
"I don't sleep with random men." I don't want to sound insensitive, but I'm not going to lie. "You were my first and only one night stand."
He raises his eyes to meet mine and I see something flash in his expression. "Have you fucked another man since you met me?"
The question is so swollen with arrogance that I want to laugh out loud. His face is dead serious though and I realize that, to him, it's coming from a genuine place.
"No." I sit next to him. "No one."
"I can't explain it." He pulls his hands together. "There's something about you."
I want to feel elation at his words. There's something about him too. Something that stretches far beyond what happens in this room when he's helping me feel pleasure. I can't let myself feel the promise of the words. He sleeps with so many women. I can't forget that.
"Have you slept with other women since me?" I ask knowing the answer already.
He doesn't respond and any bliss that my heart felt quickly sinks. He's never going to want just me. That’s not how this happens. I can't let myself think that's a possibility.
