Reese

It's late, almost two. I'm back in the bathroom freshening up after everything that happened on the couch. I'm looking at my reflection in the mirror, the goofiest grin on my face.

I'm sex drunk. After a two month dry spell I've had sex four times in approximately twelve hours. Four good, great, fucking amazing times. Tomorrow I'm going to be so sore and even the thought of that makes me smile.

I'm also standing here thinking that I don't want him to go--at least without the possibility of seeing him again. And although I get the feeling he's feeling the same way, I could be wrong. And although I was bold in bringing him back here last night, I've got no liquor coursing my system today. And if he wants to see me again, he's going to have to be the one to say so.

I come out of the bathroom and he's sitting on my bed, still in jeans and nothing else. He's looking at his phone and I head straight for the closet.

"So, are you staying for lunch?" I call from inside, pulling clothes on. And I'm hoping that I sound light and nonchalant even though I'm also really hoping he says yes.

I hear the bed shift a bit and he groans. "As much as I would love to, honey, I can't."

My stomach flips a little at that and the way it just rolls off his tongue as smooth and sweet as, well, honey. And again I assume it's just a thing he says, but I really like when he says it to me.

I come out of the closet and he's standing there, gathering his stuff. "OK," I say, trying to keep the disappointment I feel out of my voice and off of my face.

And then he's telling me that he has to get back to his hotel so he can get ready to pick up a friend at the airport and I kind of want to know if this friend is male or female but that is so not my business on any level so I keep my smile plastered on my face.

I stand there a moment more, watching while he's pulling on his shirt and fixing his watch, and tucking things back in his pockets.

"Um...I'll get your jacket and stuff," I say before hurrying out of the room as quickly as possible.

Somehow all of the morning after awkwardness I thought we'd avoided is falling down on me right now and I have no idea why. I knew he'd leave eventually; it was inevitable. As I pull his jacket and boots out of my hall closet I will myself to get it together.

JC emerges from my room and comes over to the foyer, taking his shoes and jacket from me to put on. He's making small talk but mostly I'm just watching him, thinking that he's really remarkably handsome.

In another moment he's standing in front of me, pulling me into his arms, telling me he had a good time with me. And then his lips are against mine.

And I lean into him and the kiss, wrapping my arms back around him. "So did I, JC," I manage as he pulls away. "Thank you."

He smiles at me, those pretty blue eyes bright but also kind of...sad. Or maybe I'm just seeing what I want to see.

"Believe me," he's saying, "the pleasure was all mine."

No, I want to say. I'm absolutely sure it wasn't. But I don't say anything, just smile and unlock the door and pull it open.

And as JC crosses the threshold, he stops and turns and he's looking at me like he's weighing something. And I'm thinking, and I'm hoping, that maybe, just maybe, there's a possibility that last night could be more than just last night.

"Take care of yourself, Reese," he says finally.

"You too, JC," I hear myself reply.

And he smiles and he raises his hand in a kind of salute. And then he turns again, and he's gone.

I stand there for a moment before securing the door after him. And I tell myself that I'm fine with it, because it's how these things go.

But the truth is, there's a reason I've never had a one night stand. And everything I'm feeling right now--regret and longing and even some hurt--is why.

JC

Reese is in the bathroom so I take the opportunity to check my phone, which is still on the nightstand by her bed. Also on the nightstand are a couple of tangible reminders of the past few hours in the form of opened condom wrappers.

I sit down on the bed and smile as I look at my phone. Eli's texted a few times, mostly telling me that he approves of what he assumes I've been doing for the last twelve hours. Right and wrong, for Eli, comes in varying shades of grey.

I've got a couple of voicemails, some texts from other people that can wait. And then there's Tia.

I don't listen to her voicemails because, frankly, how shitty would it be for me to be listening to my girlfriend's voice while I'm mostly naked, in another woman's home? But I read her texts and the most recent one tells me her plane touches down at O'Hare at six-fifteen. It's almost two now, which means I really need to get going.

I really don't want to get going.

As I text her back and tell her I'll be waiting for her, Reese comes out of the bathroom.

"So," she's saying, as she steps into the closet. "Are you staying for lunch?"

Her voice is muffled so I could be wrong, but I think I'm hearing a little hopefulness in it. And I wish like hell I could say yes.

But I can't. With a stretch and a groan, I stand up from the bed and tell her so.

I'm hearing her shuffle around and then she comes out of the closet in a pair of silky, patterned lounge pants and a tank top. I'm already imagining what the fabric will feel like between my fingers as I'm taking them off her.

I'm really, really wishing I could stay for lunch. Maybe, I'm thinking, if I shower here then I---

"OK." She nods, but I swear I see a little disappointment on her face.

Or maybe I just want to see it because I'm disappointed.

And then she grins.

Her smile. It's doing something to me and I just want to make her smile all day. OK, that's not the only thing I want to make her do, but it ranks high on the list.

I bend down to grab my shirt. "I actually need to get back to my hotel so I can change clothes and stuff. I have to pick up a..." I pause, hating myself, "a friend at the airport a little later."

She stands there for a moment before telling me she's going to get the rest of my stuff and then I'm in her room alone.

I'm not a bad guy, OK? I know that what I'm doing is really, really bad, but I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't plan on going out last night and meeting a beautiful, funny, intelligent, sexy as hell woman who makes me feel...well, things I haven't felt in awhile. And what I want right now is to get to know her--and not just in the biblical sense.

I want to talk to her more about her job, and ask her what she really wants to do for a living. And I want to ask her more questions about the places she's been and the things she's done. I want to dance with her again and I, well...yeah. I really want to go to bed with her again.

But right now, I have a girlfriend. A girlfriend who's going to be waiting for me to pick her up at the airport in a few hours. And instead of making me feel guilty, or ashamed, it just makes me feel trapped.

I check my pockets again and leave Reese's room.

When I come to the foyer she's standing there holding my jacket, and my shoes are on the rug next to her. I take the leather from her hand and take her in at the same time. And she's all bare shoulders and bare neck, because she's pulled her hair up in a poofy bun. And I'm thinking of inhaling the scent of her silky skin. And I'm thinking of how she melts when my tongue and teeth touch that little tender spot between her jaw and her ear. And I'm thinking about how I accidently discovered how ticklish she is right under her chin.

And these thoughts are all pointless, so I start talking, while I'm lacing up my shoes. I don't know what all I'm saying. Stupid things about the weather, and how it's great I can wear these boots all year round. And how I hope traffic isn't bad. And I stand up and she's looking at me with this secretive little smile on her face. And I'm wishing I had met her at a different time, under different circumstances.

I pull her into my arms, wanting to feel her against me one more time. "I had a great time, Reese," I say, and it's the honest to goodness truth and an unbelievable understatement.  

And then I'm kissing her again, and the feel and taste of her full lips against mine are almost making me reconsider leaving. And she's wrapping her arms my neck and that's so dangerous. So I pull away gently.

"So did I, JC," she says.

"Believe me, the pleasure was all mine." And she has no idea how much I mean that.

And then she's opening the door and I'm walking through it, and just as I step into the hallway something makes me turn around.

I look at her, and all I want is to tell her I want to see her again.  I want to ask for her number. Tell her I have some things that I need to straighten out, but when I do that I want to call her.

I want to see her again.

I'm standing there and my brain is fighting with my tongue and just when I think I can say the words I really want to say, I don't.l

"Take care of yourself, Reese," I hear myself say instead.

"You too, JC," she says, and I hate myself. A lot.

I smile and wave before walking through the door. On the other side, with the door closed, I'm telling myself that I can see her again. When I figure things out with Tia.

And I'm going to do that. Eventually.