Page 103 of Prince Charmless
Terrible memories flood in from last night. Well, maybe less of a flood and more of seepage. My brain is damp with memories. I remember lights, heavy bass, and obsessively apologizing to Where’s Waldo after knocking my drink onto his stripes.
When I trudge to the living room, the first thing I spy is a man on my couch.
What happened last night?
After blinking a few times and adjusting to the light, I realize it’s Taylor. The reason I drink. With his mouth slightly agape, he sprawls on my cushions. Taylor makes the couch look like doll furniture as his limbs spill over the sides. The phone in his hand buzzes, and the screen lights up with multiple messages. He’s probably supposed to be somewhere instead of on my futon. I remember being mad at him. Or was he mad at me? Or were we both mad at each other? All I know is I did something humiliating in Julien’s office. Maybe I discussed my erotica preferences, took a shit on the desk. I can feel my subconscious wanting to go back in time and run as far away from the place as possible, but I can’t remember why.
I pluck the sleeping tuxedo cat off Taylor’s chest. After setting her down, Popcorn slinks into my bedroom. Usually, she hides when he comes by. My little feminist is untrusting of men.
I poke his shoulder and say his name, but Taylor doesn’t stir. Maybe he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. I take my fingers and pry his left eyelid open. The second after his pupil rolls into view, he sucks in air and jerks awake. The word he hisses is a mix between ‘shit’ and ‘fuck.’ A shfuck.
He stands like something possesses him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—I was only going to stay until—I must’ve fallen asleep.”
He took me home. He wanted to make sure I was okay.
“It’s fine,” I sort of whisper. I take in his messy hair and wrinkled dress shirt during the confusing silence. “Thank you for, uh, taking me home,” I say to break the tension. “And I’m sorry for any embarrassing nonsense that came out of my mouth last night. I was probably a hot mess express.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there.”
“You’vebeen there?”
“No.”
I let out a sigh of a laugh. I miss his dry sense of humor.
Taylor’s eyes dart between mine. Left right left right left right.I wonder what he’s thinking. Or if he’s still in REM sleep.
“I should go,” he says.
“Wait.”
I take a beat to collect my thoughts. I’ll regret it if I let him walk out that door. The plan was to send him a long and rambly text message, the contents of which were to be determined, but stream-of-consciousness could work too.
“Back in New York, I didn’t mean for you to think I only see you as a sex object. It’s just, you wanting something more scared me.” I look into the irritated eyes of the man who brought me home under no reward. He must’ve slept with his contacts in. Ikeep trying to blind him. “Maybe I shouldn’t just not do things only because I’m scared,” I add.
“What are you saying?” he asks, fairly. I’m usually not one for double negatives.
I take a longer pause this time.Basic English grammar now, Melina. You’ve got this.
“I’m saying I’d rather see this through to an end than torture myself for the rest of my life wondering what could’ve been.”
I sound a bit more passionate than intended, but hell, Iampassionate. God’s given me a second chance by spawning Taylor in my living room. This has to be a sign, right?
“I’d like that too,” he says.
I expect him to go on, but he doesn’t.
I raise my shoulders to my ears. “So what are we doing then?”
“I haven’t had a relationship that’s more than sex and on good days mutual respect. I have a hunch this could be more than that, and if it is.” He sighs. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“You know what would’ve made last week easier? If you were there by my side. The one person in my life who’s used to being a public figure. I do like you, Taylor, more than sexually.”
“I’m sorry.”
Again, I expect him to do more than apologize, but the room fills with silence.
“Whatever,” I say. “If you have to be somewhere, don’t let me stop you.” Who was I to think we could figure something out? I walk past him toward the kitchen.
