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As expected.
I nod and she hands me her phone. “Hey, asshole. What’s up?”
Paul chuckles on the other end. “Says the pathetic loser with an ugly mug.”
“Ugly mug? Damn. You been hanging out with them cool kids?”
“Fuck you,” he laughs.
We chat for a few more minutes. I won’t be surprised if he’s tiptoeing around the real reason he wants to talk to me.
“So…” he begins. “I know you don’t like having your privacy invaded and my daughter managed to do so today and most likely tomorrow, too.”
Ah. Typical Paul. This is why he’s my best friend. While most people see the great doctor who doesn’t mind doing two shifts straight, he knows what I like and don’t like.
“Nah, that’s fine. Can’t do anything about this storm. Besides, she’s a great cook. Did I tell you my housekeeper stocked my fridge with ‘fresh organic ingredients’, whatever the fuck that means. I would’ve preferred microwavables.”
“Just like in college.”
“Just like in college,” I laugh. “So, Andrea’s good to stay. She already made delicious pasta. Something I wouldn’t know how to cook if my life depended on it.”
“Oh trust me, I know. Remember the time you tried to make tuna whatever? We ended up with food poisoning.”
We both laugh out loud, and I turn to see Andrea watching us with amusement on her face.
“And the taxi wouldn’t let us in the cab because he thought we were a bunch of drunks.”
“It didn’t help you were vomiting your brains out on the pavement, Paul.”
“Fuck! Right? I thought I was gonna die… Death by tuna. How embarrassing.”
We both finally calm down and my voice turns serious. “Listen, buddy. Don’t worry about Andrea. I’ll take care of her. Just enjoy your own miserable company for once.”
“Oh, he’s got jokes this evening.”
“I got plenty more where that came from.”
“Yeah, time to say goodbye, you ugly fuck.”
“Right back at you.”
I hand Andrea her phone, and she proceeds to tell him to take care. I tune it out and instead focus on whatever this is that’s tamping down on my desire to have her. If there’s one takeaway from my conversation with Paul, it’s that he trusts me enough not to warn me against her.
He didn’t even tell me to keep my hands to myself, or any variation of that. He knows I’ll take care of Andrea, keep her safe, and watch over her.
What he doesn’t know is I want more than that. After this weekend, there’s no going back to my regular life. A life without her. From here on out, Andrea will be by my side. How I’ll get Paul to accept that, I still don’t know.
That conversation isn’t enough to make me stop pursuing Andrea, but it does convince me to slow down a little. I’m not sure how much more I can take, though. I can no longer count the times I’ve had a hard-on just by being beside her.
Fuck. I’m acting like a lovesick schoolboy who has zero control over his body. How fucked up is that?
Andrea tries to stifle her yawn, but I still notice it. I notice everything about her. “Let’s go to sleep. You’re tired.”
“I bet you are, too. You’ve been awake 36 hours now, right?”
“Almost 48 actually, but who’s counting?”
She chuckles, stands up, and stretches. Turning off the TV and lights in the living room, I follow her to the bedroom. “I have some extra toiletries there. Just tell me what you need if you don’t find anything.”
