Page 37 of Stanton Adore

6

Natasha

What on earth does it mean when you see a man at a wedding, and he kisses you…passionately? Then the next time you see him he tells you to fuck off…unnecessarily, and then you are forced to watch him fondle a stripper…painfully. The next time you see him he tells you he wants to fuck you so hard on the bar you won’t remember your name…most orgasmically, only to not call you for four days?

I sit at my desk tapping the end of my pencil, as I go over the case notes of the nutjob I can’t stop fantasizing about. It’s been four days and I have to say it’s exactly as I expected— doesn’t he know how to use a fucking phone? What’s with the hardcore act? I’m so over it. I know he’s attracted to me—does he really think I can’t feel it? I could cut the air with a knife when we are together, the sexual chemistry is blanket thick. Like nothing I’ve ever felt. When he’s away from me, however, it is totally another story. I can’t read him at all.

How come he doesn’t call me? I put my head into my hands. Ring, damn you! I glare at my phone trying to send a telepathic message through it to him. My Google alert on Monday morning did its job and alerted me at 8:00 a.m. that Joshua had in fact spent the night in jail after being arrested on Saturday night. Obviously, something else must have happened with Todd after the bouncers stepped in. I hope he’s not hurt. What if he gets charged? He’s probably pissed at me…again. Well good, ’cause I’m getting pretty pissed off myself here. Who the hell does he think he is? If he wants to start a fight, he’s going the right way about it, the asshole. How dare he interrupt my night with promises of passion and legs over shoulders only to tell me to go home? Which I did of course, like a lap dog, secretly hoping he would turn up there. I wonder how long he was watching me, as he seemed to step in just in the nick of time. I can’t help but imagine what would have gone down if Todd the idiot hadn’t stepped in.

Perfect bloody timing, Todd, good one.

By Friday I am sick of the sight of myself and have just about slipped into a carbohydrate coma so after work I head to the gym. I’ve put on three stress kilos since a certain Mr. Stanton reentered my life and the joke of it is, I actually reprimand people all day about the repercussions of comfort-eating. When in fact I should be teaching them how to do it right. I hammer myself on the treadmill for forty minutes only to get off and feel faint. I drain my water bottle and head to my locker to retrieve my belongings and check my phone. Nope, still hasn’t called. Asshole. I have three missed calls from Bridget though. I head down the stairs as I dial her number.

She answers at the first ring.

“Hi Tash.”

“Hi, what’s up?”

“Nothing, just checking in.”

I lean on the side of my car as I take her call. “Where are you?” I ask.

“Um.” She sounds evasive.

“So, where are you?” I repeat.

“I’m at Josh’s.”

“What?” I snap.

“He’s not here,” she quickly adds.

“Where is he?” I immediately ask.

“I’m not sure, I’m with Cameron and Will.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I reply, disappointed. Josh’s two younger brothers are staying with him for the week. Mum had told me this, although I had forgotten. “Say hi for me,” I whisper.

“I will.” She smiles down the phone. I pull my jacket around my shoulders as the cold air chills me.

“Do you want to come out tonight?” she asks.

“Where to?” I ask.

“The boys have tickets for some show, and they bought some extra tickets in case we want to come.”

I smile at the two muscle men leaving the gym. “Oh, I don’t know, I told Abbs I would catch a movie.”

“No, I’ve spoken to her. She’s keen to come to this show.”

“Oh,” I answer flatly. “Is Josh coming?” I scrunch my eyes shut as I say it, knowing how desperate I sound.

“No, the boys said he’s going to some kickboxing thing.” She lowers her voice so they can’t hear her. “If you come, we might be able to get some info on him,” she whispers. I nod as her plan rolls around in my head. This is true—they are staying with him so maybe I can find out if he is seeing someone else.

“Do you think they know anything?”

“Of course, they must. Brothers talk, don’t they?”