I just hoped that some day he would remember this moment the way I did– as the moment everything changed.

eleven

“Wow,” I said when he finally came to a rest inside me, his breathing heavy. Tentatively I reached up and touched his biceps. My legs felt shaky, and I wanted to feel that hard muscular body of his. I was feeling all the feels and I was afraid to say anything else or he would perceive it as me attaching. Which I had, a long time ago, but he didn’t need to know that.

If I had expected or wanted Ryan to say romantic and complimentary things I was disappointed when he just pulled out and rolled onto his back next to me. “Did that hurt?” he asked.

“Just for a second,” I said honestly.

His large palm briefly covered my thigh then disappeared. “Good.” His voice was hoarse and when I glanced over at him, his nostrils were flaring. He looked angry and it puzzled me. He climbed out of the bed without warning.

“Where are you going?” My needy voice made me wince. God, I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be vulnerable. I couldn’t betray him like that. I had promised him I wouldn’t have expectations. But I wanted reassurance. For what, I didn’t know.

He didn’t look back at me. “Throwing away this condom.”

He padded across the carpet toward the glamorous white bathroom. He was in shadow, but I could see and appreciate his very tight ass. I thought about him over me and I blushed in the dark, very aware of my sore vagina. I wasn’t sure what I should do. Wait for him to return? Get dressed? This was uncharted territory and we weren’t dating. We weren’t a couple, but we weren’t nothing either. He was a part of my life, in a way. Despite what he insisted about us having no connection whatsoever.

It felt pathetic to just lie there and wait for him so I sat up, giving myself a second. There was a rush of dizziness and I blinked. When I stood up, my legs still felt a little unstable and as the tension eased out of my muscles, I realized I had been clenching everything from head to toe. Rolling my head and easing the strain in my neck, I gathered my clothes and pulled them on. I wanted to go to the bathroom, to take a shower, but Ryan was still behind the closed door.

When he emerged a few seconds later, I was already dressed. He looked surprised to see me pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge, fully clothed.

“Where is the girl who likes to be naked?” he asked, his voice light.

Whatever had been on his face before was gone. He had composed himself in the bathroom. His expression was friendly, reserved, the way it usually was. The intensity of his gaze in bed was gone. He’d reined himself in.

I wanted the opportunity to do the same thing and covering my body was the first step to achieving that. “I was cold,” I said and it was a lie.

“I should have left the slider open.”

Moving past him I fought the urge to seek out approval, comfort, reassurance. Love. Instead I gave him a half-smile and said, “It’s not a big deal.”

In the bathroom I avoided the mirror. I didn’t want to see what might be written on my face. Instead I just used the toilet, washed my hands, splashed water on my face. I was biting my lip, a habit from childhood that I hated, yet could never seem to stop. I tried to decide what movie moment I could classify this situation as, but my mind was a traitorous black hole. No thoughts, only feelings.

A panic attack was threatening. I recognized the symptoms. Tight chest. Slight dizziness, rapid breathing. Since the attacks invariably caused an asthma attack, I dug into my toiletries bag and pulled out my inhaler, taking a pre-emptive breath of the medication. Sometimes just using my inhaler allowed me to relax enough to avoid the panic attack. It was a mental battle of wills I was used to fighting whenever I got really agitated. It annoyed me that it would happen now, after something so physically satisfying.

But it was in response to Ryan’s immediately distancing himself from me and I knew that. I took four deep and steady breaths and reminded myself this was exactly what I had asked for.

When I went back into the room Ryan wasn’t there. The sound of the ocean drew me to the slider. He was sitting at the table in his underwear, a beer in his hand.

Maybe it was better that way. Him in his chair, me in mine. There would be no awkwardness of do we touch or kiss or cuddle in bed together. All of which I wanted but shouldn’t expect. But wanted. God, did I want.

Annoyed with myself, I dropped into the chair across from him.

“Hey. Do you want a drink?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine.” What I wanted was what I couldn’t have. But as I stared out at the dark ocean, I decided I didn’t regret my choice. Ryan had done right by me.

“Let me know, I can go get you something. Do you want me to order food from room service?”

His kindness was oddly annoying. I didn’t want polite solicitation. I wanted things that couldn’t be said out loud. Or even just an easy friendship. Not solicitous remoteness. “Okay. But I’m fine, really.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave me a searching stare, like he expected me to burst into tears at any given moment. I ignored him and pulled my dress down, tucking my feet under it.

Taking a swig of his beer, Ryan pulled his phone out of his pocket and tossed it on the table. “I’m going to throw this phone into the pool if it doesn’t stop buzzing.”

I could see the screen was lit up. “Dickhead Dad” was calling him. “Shouldn’t you answer that if it’s Mickey? He is your boss.”

“Fuck him.” Ryan shrugged. “He wanted to bring your dog over to my place. I kind of forgot to tell him we weren’t going to be there. He’s blowing my phone up so I’m guessing he’s pissed off at me right now.”