Page 56 of Trial and Error

She takes a deep breath and rubs the curve of her stomach as she yawns. I reach across and lift the plate from her lap and place it on the coffee table alongside mine. As I lean back into the couch, she takes it as an invitation to curl into my side. I can’t say I mind. She lets out a soft sigh as she places her hand on my abdomen.

“So…earlier was fun,” she says, her voice quiet.

I hum in response as my fingers drew small circles around her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Maybe, we could…” Bridget trails off, and I sense her shyness.

“Do it again?” I ask. I feel her nod against me. “Listen, I’m not really a one-night stand kind of guy. I don’t just whip my dick out for anyone.”

Bridget looks up at me from where she rests and a little smile graces her face. “Whip your dick out? Well, I’m glad you don’t, and for the record…” She pauses. “I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl either. I’ve had a few but it’s not my preference. I prefer more serious things.”

She pulls away from me completely and faces me. Bridget crosses her legs and shifts closer until her knees are touching my thighs. “What if we just hooked up with only each other, whenever we want? No pressure—just us.”

I want to tell her that’s the opposite of what I want from her. That I want the real deal. That whenever I think of her, I think of her as mine. Sure, we barely know each other, but from what I know, I want more—and so does she.

I should be honest. I should tell her that I want the mornings together, the date nights, the fights, the tears—I want it all. I didn’t realize I was looking for a certain type of person until she showed up. And here we are, sitting in her apartment, and I feel like I finally belong. It feels like someone finally wants me for me, but then I remind myself that this isn’t real and she isn’t really mine.

Not yet, anyway.

I should tell her all of this, but I don’t.

“Just us?” I ask.

She nods softly, linking our fingers together. “Just us.”

bridget

I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing.

It feels early and I don’t have it in me to look over at the digital clock to confirm my thoughts. I slap my hand on my bedside table, knocking my book off the edge in the process and feel for my phone. The ringing stops, and I sigh, annoyed at myself for missing it, but the feeling doesn’t last long because the shrill sound of the ringtone fills the room again.

Reluctantly, I peel open my eyes and wince at the brightness that curls around the edges of my curtains. My phone is face down, and I don’t look at the caller ID before I swipe my thumb across the screen.

“Hmm, hello?” I mutter sleepily.

A soft and tentative laugh fills my ears and I feel my sleepy mood disappear. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

I pause. “Imani?”

Hearing her voice makes me feel nervous, and I hate it. An awkward laugh passes down the line, and I frown. “Are you home?”

She knows I am. It’s rare that I leave my apartment on the weekends and she knows that better than anyone.

“Yes,” I reply slowly. “Do you need something?”

Imani doesn’t answer right away and that alone has me on alert. Imani has never had an issue with filling silences, and from the way she breathes heavily down the phone, I can tell something is wrong.

“Bids, I—” She clears her throat and then sighs. “Look, can I just come over? I know it’s early, and I know⁠—”

“You still have your key, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, just let yourself in.” I wait for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. “See you soon.”

I end the call and drop my phone on the pillow beside me. I let out a deep breath and dig the heels of my palm into my eyes. Forcing myself up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and slip my feet into my shark slippers, chuckling. Elias laughed at them the last weekend, and I basked in the sound. It was beautiful. Deep and melodic, and god, it suits him so well.

I stand and walk past the chair in the corner of the room which is currently stacked with laundry I’m yet to put away. I grab the sweater underneath and grumble out a curse when the clothes topple into a heap on the floor and I pretend like I didn’t see that happen as I step over it, telling myself I’ll sort it out later.