Page 37 of One-Star Romance

“Maybe we could…” Natalie began in a low, throaty voice. He pulled his arm away from her, drawing back, trying to maintain an iota of control. Natalie bit her lip.

“What?” he asked. Was she going to ask for more? Despite his better judgment, he could feel with startling clarity how easy it would be to wrap himself around her, taste her, touch her. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. But as their eyes met again, the million arguments in his head grew fuzzy, impossible to grasp. He leaned closer. Despite Zuri and Angus and Natalie herself, he could. He would.

Natalie opened her mouth. Closed it. Then, in a rush, she said, “We could hate-fuck.”

For a moment, his ability to speak deserted him. Her words reverberated in his head. A hate-fuck, as if he were nothing more than a piece of meat. In the face of his silence, she went on.

“I know we’re both starting things with other people. But we haven’t defined anything yet, right?” Her voice had lost its throaty edge. The more his own face closed off, the more casual Natalie’s tone seemed to become. “And clearly we’re attracted to each other. So, for just this one night, this one time, we get it out of our systems. And then we don’t have to think about it again.”

Her hair was falling in her face, her chest rising and lowering, her lips slightly parted. What an idiot he was, considering going against all his principles for something meaningless. She craved a quick distraction, and he was the guy available in her moment of need.

His voice was hoarse when it came out. “No.”

Sure, the physical temptation remained. But this was for the best. Because doing something you wanted to do just one time didn’t always work. You didn’t get it out of your system. You opened the floodgates. There were days that Rob didn’t feel like showing up to guest-lecture his classes. He wanted to call in sick, get in his car, and drive. But that wouldn’t cure him or make him appreciate his job more. The likelier scenario was that he would just keep driving into a whole different life, disappointing everyone who had worked so hard for him to be where he was, the advisers who’d advocated for him, the journals that had given him space, his family. (And where would he even go? What was he meant for if not academia?)

Besides, in grad school, he’d tried having sex with two women he was dating at the same time, nonexclusively, just to see where things went. He simply did not have the bandwidth. It didn’t make him feel adventurous, just insincere. He grew stressed, miserable, second-guessing his feelings at every turn. It was the tyranny of choice, the same way he didn’t like going to restaurants with more than one page of options on their menu. If he had sex with Natalie right now, he’d clench up the next time he saw Zuri. Not to mention that he and Zuri had discussed STI testing before having sex without a condom the first time, affirming that they hadn’t been intimate with anyone else since getting a clean bill of health. He’d have to go back to her and say that the circumstances had changed. And relationships at the beginning were so tenuous, so fragile. Zuri might draw back, and this one night of giving in to what he wanted would ruin their bright future. (He could not believe that his mind was even processing these thoughts now with Natalie so close to him, her eyes so big.)

“No?” Natalie asked, the word wobbling as it came out, and for a moment he thought that maybe she hadn’t viewed him as a piece of meat after all.

“It’s not a good idea.”

She lay back, focusing on the ceiling again, her breath speeding up. Then she rose in one rapid movement, threw the covers back, and walked out of the room.

He sat up too, awake as if he’d downed a pitcher of cold brew. Should he go after her? Offer to sleep on the couch? Maybe she just needed some space. He’d found a strange pleasure in comforting Natalie earlier on the dock, but lest he forget, she was dangerous, with a talent for tearing down that she could wield like a sword.

Dammit. He’d go talk to her anyway. He swung his feet out of bed. But as he rose to standing, Angus stumbled in, half-asleep, almost knocking over a lamp in his disorientation.

“Scoot over, buddy. Natalie took my spot, so we’re bunking up,” he mumbled, then immediately splayed out over two-thirds of the bed’s surface and began to snore.

•••

The next morning, with the hours before they’d have to leave rapidly dwindling, Angus poked Rob awake, bouncing in excitement. “We have to try the inflatable kayak! I’m not leaving before we do.”

Angus did not drink coffee. Rob downed at least four cups a day—he used to only drink one, but grad school changed him—and yet he’d never artificially gotten himself even close to Angus’s natural energy.

Out onto the water they went, heading toward a small island with a rocky beach. Angus was not an amazing paddler—he’d get caught up in telling a story, and begin to gesticulate, and somebody had to keep the boat sloshing through the water. Rob charted a steady course as Angus chattered away about the new directions the Futon King was thinking of taking with the store. (“I suggested he expand into futons for pets, and he’s looking into it!”)

“And are you feeling ready to start the new job?” Rob asked.

“At Insight? Oh yeah. All the normal first-day jitters, of course. But it really changes things for me, you know? Proves my success so far wasn’t a fluke.”

“Did you think it was a fluke before? You’ve worked so hard.”

“I know, I know. But this is a whole new level of respect, not to mention of money. I can shower Gabby in…” Angus furrowed his face.

“Fur coats,” Rob grunted, muscles aching as he steered them closer to their destination.

“With how much she loves animals? If I gave her a fur coat, she’d probably divorce me. Designer bags, maybe. Is that something women care about?”

“Don’t ask me,” Rob said, giving a final paddle and taking them to shore.

They lay back on the sand, turning their faces to the sun. “But speaking of new jobs,” Angus said, “how excited was Arizona when you told them yes?”

Rob held a hand over his face to block the light. “I haven’t responded to them yet.”

“Really?” Angus sat up. “What are you waiting for?”

“Oh, I don’t know. They told me that I have until the middle of next week to make the decision. So I thought I should sit with it.”

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