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She leaves us both in the kitchen. Tyler continues to make his tea, apparently completely oblivious to my staring a hole in the back of his head.
Move in with me?
“Just while she’s here,” he says. Apparently, I said that out loud.
“I’m not… I’m not sure how I feel about that.” I swallow.
No. I know. I don’t like it. At all. His things in my apartment?
“You look like you’re shitting out a watermelon.”
“You’re not reassuring me at all, in case you were wondering.” I walk into the living room and sit on the sofa. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs.
Tyler sits next to me and puts his legs on the table in front of us. He takes a sip of his tea before he speaks. “I was actually kidding.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Okay. I wasn’t.” He shrugs and puts the mug down. “I just didn’t think you’d freak out quite that much. Sex on tap. Can’t be that bad.”
How am I supposed to say out loud that it’s not the sex thing that bothers me, but the fact that he’ll be there all the time? In my bathroom. In my shower. On my sofa. At my kitchen table. In my bed. In my parking slot, probably.
Every second of every day. He’ll be there. Always.
“Fucking hell,” he groans. “By the look on your face, you’d think you didn’t want me to be anywhere near you.”
I dive my hands into my hair. Where are my words? Hello, brain-to-mouth filter? Now would be a great time to fuck off.
“And now I’m thinking I could be right.”
“No!” I finally blurt. I look up at him and hate what I see in his eyes. There’s a vulnerability there. Hurt. Something that shouldn’t be there. “That’s not the problem. The problem is that I do want you there. All the time. But that isn’t a good idea.”
He drops his head back. “One step forward, two steps back.”
“Jeez, Ty!” I stand and walk to the window. “We’ve been dating for, like, ten days.”
“And fucking for weeks.”
I close my eyes briefly. “Apparently fucking and dating are one and the same for you.”
“They are where you’re concerned.”
Because our relationship is primarily sex, I want to say. Because it follows your addiction with barely any regard for my own.
“I’m not having this conversation. I’m not going to argue about this. It’s ridiculous.” I walk into his room and stuff my feet into my boots. I grab my purse and head toward the door.
“What is it with you and running away?”
“I’m not running away. I’m walking away from a situation I’m not prepared to deal with right now. Like an adult.” I put my hand on the door.
“No, you’re running. Every time I talk about us, you turn around and you run away from me. Ten minutes ago, you were moaning my fucking name.”
“This is me!” I yell. “Okay? This. Is. Me. If you stopped for two seconds and really thought about it, you’d see it. You think I don’t want to be around you or be in a serious relationship with you, but you couldn’t be further from the truth.”
I press my fingers to my temples and fight the sting of tears.
“I want to be around you, Tyler. All the fucking time, I want you next to me because I am so goddamn addicted to you that it hurts when you’re not there!”
“Then let me be there!”
