Page 36 of Delayed Intention

Don’t Even Think About It

Rolling over to turn off my alarm, I noticed an envelope on the floor, just inside the door to my room.

Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I remember that I’m supposed to check out and drive home after Josh and I have breakfast this morning.

I need to try to get out of town ahead of a colossal snowstorm that is due this afternoon.

Checking the weather app on my phone—I have a few hours before I need to get moving.

I’m hoping that I’ll be able to make the trip out by myself this time—if not I’d have to leave in time for Josh to drive me out and get himself back before the snow gets too heavy.

Picking up the envelope, I recognize that it is not paperwork to check out; rather it’s a note in Josh’s handwriting.

Crap, he must have read my letter.

For a few blissful minutes, I had forgotten about pouring the contents of my head onto a piece of paper and handing it to him.

Now, of course, it is coming right back to me like a slap across the face.

Wary, I open the envelope and read its contents—his note is brief and to the point.

He may be attracted to me physically, but that’s it.

Even that is not strong enough for him to want to tangle with a mess like me.

Message received. It makes sense. What do I expect him to do—attach himself to a head case?

And this business about not being relationship material…

Every red-blooded person in the world who has ever wanted a man knows that is code for—you are not the one.

I start to get dressed, thinking about my next move.

I wait to feel upset or hurt, but for some reason, I don’t.

He’s being straightforward, and I guess I can do the same.

Searching my feelings, I’m surprised to realize that I am okay.

It’s more than okay, and now I’m wondering, what if I was making a simple issue too complex?

Maybe I’m also merely attracted to him physically?

That would explain why I don’t feel hurt.

He is the first man I’ve tolerated touching me, let alone entertained the possibility of more than that, in a long time.

Maybe that’s all this is? It is not like I have any recent experience with any of this.

The embarrassment I feel when I think about how long it has been since I have been intimate with another person. All these years, trying to convince myself I don’t need anyone. That I’m fine on my own, without that type of closeness.

I’m an island.

Any physical need I’ve felt for intimacy with another person in the past was buried long ago. It was short-circuited by the difficulties I have with being touched. As for the rest of it, I know I do experience some desires. But I have always taken care of all of that myself.

When I’m longing for romance? I can read about it, and watch it play out in a movie from the safety of my seat. Looking for love? I can hold a kitten. Or my niece. Like I said, I’m an island. But now…

I realize that I’m standing here with my toothbrush in my hand and the sink water running.

Turning the water off, I blink at my reflection, a realization dawning on me.

This may be my one shot. I mean, I could meet someone else, someday, that I’m attracted to and am able to be touched by them without feeling I need to push them away and run in the opposite direction.

Sure. With my luck, that could totally happen to me again.

Someday. When pigs fly through a frozen-over hell.

However, right now, there is a man just a few blocks away, and even if he doesn’t want a relationship beyond friendship, he does care for me.

He has proven he can be a selfish asshat, but he would never intentionally hurt me; of this, I feel certain.

As certain as someone with a thousand and one anxieties can be.

I finished brushing my teeth and texted Josh.

Me

I am going to need more time, woke up late. Give me 20 min?

Josh

Sure

I hop in the shower. Afterward, I carefully use all my frizz-taming products before attempting to braid my hair into a low bun.

I pull out a few face-framing strands and scrunch them to submission with the last of my hair wax.

Then I put my knit hat on to flatten the golden-brown mane as much as I can.

I use all the hotel lotion to moisturize since I didn’t bring any.

I applied the little makeup I did bring—mascara, lip gloss, and tinted moisturizer.

I put on a black tank top, jeans, my boots and throw on a sweater that is part of my sleep set, but it’s a cream-colored oversized cardigan that falls off my shoulder intermittently—a look I’ve generally considered to be irresistible.

I survey myself in the mirror and opt to leave my cardigan and coat open for now.

I grab the hotel stationery to write a quick note.

Dearest Josh.

Of course, I want to be friends, and I wouldn’t presume to ask for more than that! You’ve made your position on relationships crystal clear.

I think you misunderstand me. I want to hook up, not get married. So… I think it’s called friends with benefits? What do you think? I have a couple of days off…

Check __ yes. Or check __ No.

Either way, I’m good. Just an idea I had.

Your pal,

Lily

This might work. I resolve to show no mercy. What do I have to lose?

Nothing. Well, maybe my dignity .

I folded up the note and shoved it into my back pocket.

Something about writing such a direct message makes me feel bolder somehow.

I’ve not flirted in a very long time. It’s been eighteen years.

Feeling a growing sense of confidence as I packed up the rest of my belongings, I put my bag in my car before I went to check out.

I still have the day, I think, and I plan to make the most of it.

Just as I’m finishing in the office, Josh pulls up in his SUV.

Schooling my features as he gets out of the car I open the line of communication.

“Hi.” That sounds innocent enough. Then, thinking of my plans for the day I say quickly, “I read your note. Thanks for being honest. And no worries.”

Josh is just blinking at me and I can’t read his expression, so I continue to stand there, smiling.

He blinks at me. “Okay. Um. Ready for breakfast?”

“Of course.” I step up into his SUV and catch him staring in the vicinity of my chest as I climb in. I smile to myself, feeling satisfied that I am onto something. So far, this is going according to plan.

Within a few heartbeats, we pull into the diner parking lot.

“Busy day planned?” I ask.

Poor Josh is visibly working on keeping his eyes up in the vicinity of my face, which makes me smile even more at him. Wow, he is attracted to me. How did I miss this before?

“Um. The weather.”

“I’m sorry?” I feign confusion, even though I know what he is referring to.

“The weather’s going to be bad—we should talk about maybe extending your stay at the motel.”

“That has to do with your plans for the day?” I blink at him. This flirting thing is easier than I thought it would be, now that I know where everyone is coming from.

“Uh, yeah, my plans.” He coughs and clears his throat.

“I mean, sort of—because of the bad weather. There is a clinic in town and they usually want me to keep it open for locals since it looks like we will get snowed in here. It probably won’t open until tomorrow, but I may be on call before then.

The doctor that runs it will call and let me know.

” With that, Josh practically runs from his car into the diner.

We make our way inside without saying anything else and are seated at a booth in the back.

Josh is again working hard to keep his eyes to himself.

I grin, pick up my menu, and then make a show of putting my menu down.

After a beat, I lean toward him with my elbows on the table.

His eyes briefly widen before he looks quickly back at his menu.

I almost laughed because he must have known the menu here by heart.

I do, and I don’t even live here. Yet Josh is reviewing the menu as if he has never seen it before.

“May I help? I mean, I can’t be a PA in Colorado without a state license, but I know my way around a clinic well enough to act as your medical assistant. If you want.”

“Um, sure,” he says from behind his menu. The waitress comes back over and takes our orders. Josh reluctantly hands his menu over and studies his hands.

“Josh.”

“Yep.”

“Is it okay if I just stay with you? Instead of checking back into the hotel? I mean, I could get snowed in here for a few days and it would just be easier, you know?”

“Um.”

The waitress returns with my tea and Josh’s coffee.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why on earth not? We’re both adults. Not to mention, we’ve both laid our cards on the table. What would be the harm?”

“Lily.” He looks a little pained, and I almost feel sorry for him. Almost .

“Yes, Josh.” My smile for him is sincere because this is fun. I mean, having nothing to lose is freeing, as it turns out.

I start to rise from the table when he doesn’t say more. I wonder if I should give him a minute. I mean, he is looking a bit panicked.

“While you figure out whatever you were going to say, I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Can you ask for milk for my tea? Oh, and here—” I hand him my note from this morning—“I wrote you back.

As he takes the note, I wink at him, and he pales, which only widens my grin. Who am I anymore? He handles the paper like it may harbor a contagion.

I go to the bathroom and pull off my hat to see if it worked to flatten my hair to a reasonable-appearing density. It was successful, and I looked decent, I decided. I reapply my lip gloss and head back to the table to find Dr. Joshua Cohen blushing a shade of red I did not know he was capable of.

“Everything okay?” I ask with as innocent an expression as I can muster.

“I don’t know what to say. Lily, have you ever? I mean... Oh, God.” He pulls off his hat and puts his head in one hand while gripping the table with the other. “First of all, I’m not going to check one of these boxes on your note,” he says through his fingers, while still hiding his face.

“Joshua!” I mock whisper-yell at him. “You’d think I’d asked you to donate a kidney to me, or do my taxes, or perform my annual—”

“Lily!” He whisper-snaps at me and looks so affronted I burst out laughing. Eventually, he manages to calm down enough to smile back at me—sort of and briefly.

“It was just an idea. You can say no without being an old lady about it.”

I pretend to pout and shrug while looking him in the eye, trying to project more bravery than I’m feeling now that it’s obvious I’ve unsettled him.

“Josh, allow me to explain myself at least. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to really…” I chew on my lower lip and feel my palms getting itchy. I don’t want to scare him off, but I also don’t want to lie to him.

“Let me put it this way. You know I don’t tolerate most people touching me.

But with you, it’s different. When I wrote you, the first night I was here, I think that I was getting physical attraction mixed up with something more…

complicated. The thing I want you to consider is I have no way of knowing if anyone else I meet will be as physically compatible with me as you seem to be. ”

He says nothing, so I consider my next words carefully.

“When our hands touched yesterday,” I am fully blushing now, “I liked it. I more than liked it. I usually have to gear myself up to touch someone in a non-clinical way. But with you? It’s like my body knows it’s okay.

Better than okay,” I bite my lower lip and watch as Josh glances at my mouth.

And if that doesn’t rev my engines… phew .

“And I want more. What if this is a rare opportunity for me to experience something that I’m otherwise missing out on? ”

With that, the food is served, and we leave off talking for a while.

For his part, Josh is fully absorbed in his breakfast and avoids making eye contact.

For now, he seems incapable of answering any of my questions.

Maybe I broke him. I set about to eat my breakfast and let him consider everything I’ve said.