And then never again.
Xavi
I hated Monday mornings at the best of times, but this was something else.
“Good morning, Xavier,” Janice said, giving me a superior look as we headed for the office doors at the same time.
“Well, I’m here at work, so no, it isn’t,” I replied, more careless with my tongue than I should have been. I was finding it difficult to care. Janice gave me a haughty look of disapproval and went inside first, not even holding the door for me.
I caught it before it slammed in my face.
Yeah, well, fuck you, too, Janice.
I headed for my desk with a heavy stone in my stomach and an even heavier anchor connecting my eyes to the floor. Even so, I couldn’t help but know he was there. He always was. I walked to my cubicle and sat down in my chair with the full knowledge that the back of Rowe’s head was right behind me, even though I didn’t dare to look at it – much less talk to him.
The fantasy played over and over in my head. I would turn, spinning my chair around and scooting into the aisle. I would say his name. He’d spin and meet me in the middle and we’d kiss, passion getting the better of us as we forgot about where we were. I could climb over onto his chair, into his lap, holding my self above him as I wrapped my arms around his neck, his shoulders, his head. Ran my fingers through his hair. We could hold each other, grind our hips together until we were hissing with need, until everyone else got up and left the office to give us some damn privacy. Then we could dispense with clothes altogether.
I wasn’t going to call his name and go over there. I wasn’t going to kiss him.
I didn’t even really know him.
My mind kept running back over that last night together. When we’d finally fallen into bed. Over and over again, I kept analyzing the look on his face, the things he’d said. I’d been the one to make the first move. I’d undressed him. I’d offered to ‘take care of him’. He’d insisted we were equals, and at the time I’d thought he was telling me I wasn’t there just to make him feel good. I’d said this wasn’t part of the deal to get his money, and I had been sure at the time that he understood.
But now that the night was over and we were back in the cold light of day, in a setting that was all too real, I was seeing and hearing the memory differently. Maybe he’d thrown in sex as part of the deal, hoping for a tip or to be able to leave early because he’d given me extra. Maybe he’d been telling me that just because I’d asked him to have sex for money, just because I’d told him to do this with me as part of his employment for the weekend, didn’t make him any less than I was.
Had I given him the impression that he had to sleep with me in order to get the money? Was that why he had tried to give it back?
I rubbed my hand over my eyes and logged into my computer, grabbing the list of things that had hit my inbox to be actioned and trying to figure out which one I should cross off first. It was the only thing I could do to stop myself from running the scenario over and over again, never getting any closer to figuring out where I had gone wrong.
And all day long, I sat there knowing that all I had to do was open a dark image on my monitor, refocus my gaze on the screen, and turn my chair to the side a little, and I’d see the back of his head reflected there.
All day long, my chest ached at the fact that we were back to this: the back of his head, always the back of his head, and me still crying out to be rescued.
I dimly considered the idea of screwing something up on purpose, but I dismissed it out of hand. Rowe had rescued me one too many times already. It was time to stop relying on him and stand on my own two feet, for once.
I sat there and, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t do anything but concentrate quietly on my work.
“Weren’t you at a wedding this weekend?” A head popped up over the division between my cubicle and the one directly in front of me. Becca. Usually, this would be the point where we would spend the next two hours talking about our weekends to fill the time before lunch.
I nodded. “Mmhmm.” I trained my eyes on the screen, trying not to look up.
“So? Dish.” She settled back into her chair, but I could still hear her easily. The cubicle walls weren’t exactly thick, after all. “Did you meet anyone hot?”
How many times had I regaled her with exaggerated tales of the hot men I’d taken home over the weekend? But not today. Not this time. Not this man.
I couldn’t degrade him down to that level. He wasn’t at that level. He was so much better, so much more, than all of the others put together.
“Not really,” I said. “Everyone was already coupled up. I have to focus on this. I’ve got a deadline today.”
Becca made a choking noise of disbelief, a half-laugh. “Okay, but seriously. If you didn’t hook up with anyone, were you at least looking at socials all weekend? Did you see what Janice posted? That barf-green number?”
“I didn’t see it,” I said, trying to brush it aside. I didn’t want to talk about Janice. I didn’t want to waste my time bitching or comparing stories or pretending like my whole life was one big party.
It wasn’t a party anymore.
Not now I’d found the guest of honor – and he’d already left.
“What’s up with you?” Becca asked, her voice a little snappy.
