Page 57 of Like You Want It

So I head over to where his clothes lay, scattered around the kitchen floor, and start collecting them, hoping that if I start pushing him towards the door, he’ll go.

I can try to talk with my therapist about this some other time. But right now? I just need to get him out of my apartment.

“Are you awake enough to drive yourself home or do you want me to get you an Uber?”

My words seem to finally propel him into action, and he walks towards me slowly, tentatively taking his pants from my hand.

There’s a lilt to his brow that says he’s confused. But honestly, I’m too busy focusing on my own internal meltdown to deal with any other things in regards to him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

I nod, showing him the smile that I just can’t seem to make any more believable than it is. “Absolutely.”

Fin dresses as I straighten the corkboard where a few notes fell from when we first started kissing. I pin back up a Christmas card from Caleb from a few years ago, and a to go menu from that new acai place on Colorado Boulevard.

And then, when I can’t distract myself any longer, I open the door and stand there, waiting for him to finish up and go. It makes it seem like I’m kicking him out on his butt, even though we both know it isn’t true.

I’m not showing him the door. I’m pretending to want him to leave. And as genuine as I’m trying to be, there’s no way he doesn’t realize that.

He steps into the stairwell outside of my door and looks at me, that same blank expression remaining on his face. I smile again, give him a little wave.

“Thanks for that,” I say, then close the door in his face.

I let out a rush of breath and shake my arms, feeling a little guilty about shoving him out so aggressively. But I didn’t want to stand there awkwardly for even one more second while he pondered what he might be able to say to not make me feel as shitty as we both know I’m going to keep feeling.

It isn’t his job to make me feel okay. It’s my own job.

And the first step to feeling okay about what happened was to get him out of my apartment. Even though there was still a thread inside of me that wanted to beg him to stay.

As wonderful as it was tonight, to be held and touched and given the chance to explore the pulsing desire that’s been hovering between us, it was also a hard pill to swallow.

A pill labeledreality.

Because even though I want Fin, and he clearly wants me, that isn’t enough. Sometimes, wanting someone just isn’t enough.

I wander through my apartment, turning off all the lights, Cabbie trailing in my wake now that the stranger is gone. Then I head into my room and crawl into bed.

I hope playing games on my phone will clear my jumbled brain. But instead, I spend the rest of the night reliving each kiss and touch. The dancing at The Rodeo. The uncertainty that is going to become a deal breaker if he doesn’t figure it out soon.

A few hours go by, and I finally drift off to sleep. But I’m still left wondering how something that seemed so good could go so bad, so quickly.