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  Nathan scrunches his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, and I laugh out loud.

  “I’m thinking of getting it, too,” I add casually.

  His eyes snap open. “What the hell is wrong with your vagina?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”

  He gives me a slow smile and takes my hand in his lap. I know our fight is over.

  “I’m getting all the food tonight; every single thing, including all the desserts. There won’t be room in our bed for you.”

  “What’s new,” He mutters dryly as he opens the menu. “I’m used to it.”

  * * *

  It’s 11:30 p.m., and Nathan and I are walking home arm in arm. We are laughing and joking now, and our earlier fight seems like a lifetime ago. He has me in a headlock, and we are wrestling our way down the street. Those margaritas went down way too easily, and we are way too tipsy for a Monday night.

  We make our way back to my apartment, and he takes a shower before I do, too.

  We brush our teeth, and I braid my long dark hair. Nathan likes me putting it up or he says he wakes up in the middle of the night in some kind of Rapunzel nightmare.

  When he gets into bed, he’s wearing his navy blue silk boxer shorts. I take off my robe and am wearing my custom panty and matching camisole set.

  I climb in beside him and wince.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “My back is tight,” I stretch it to the left and right to try loosen it. “I tried to get in for a massage tomorrow night but I can’t get one till Friday.”

  “I’ll massage it for you.”

  “What?” I smile.

  “Roll onto your stomach. I’ll massage it for you.” He goes up to lean on his elbow, and then falls back and chuckles. “I’m feeling so fucking drunk.”

  I giggle. “That makes two of us.”

  I roll onto my stomach, and he begins to chipper chop me at high speed. “Oww!” I cry. “What the hell is that?”

  He sits up, and with two hands, he really chipper chops me with vigour.

  “Ah.” I laugh. “Stop it, you’re making it worse.”

  He sits over my behind and gently begins to knead my shoulders, and I smile sleepily into the pillow. “Hmm. Now, that feels good,” I whisper.

  For twenty minutes, Nathan’s magical hands roam up and down my back, every now and then, softly dusting the sides of my breasts.

  I’m sleepy, relaxed, and I hate to admit it… aroused. I feel like I’m drifting safely, halfway between sober and drunk, Heaven and Hell.

  Right and wrong.

  As he pushes me into the mattress, I can feel his dick on my behind. Or maybe that’s the margaritas and wishful thinking.

  I get a vision of him in the nude from the other night and my insides begin to melt.

  I let my mind go somewhere that it has never gone before. I let myself imagine what it would be like to have sex with Nathan Mercer.

  Would he be rough? Would he be tender? I get a vision of me on top, looking down as I ride him. He would be so deep inside of me. God, he most definitely would touch every single side.

  I clench in appreciation, and I feel a rush of moisture to my sex. I begin to feel my pulse there.

  “Are you asleep, baby?” he whispers.

  I inhale deeply, unable to answer him. It’s easier to stay asleep—more restful here—and I don’t want him to stop. Don’t stop.

  His hands are magical.

  He lies down beside me and pulls my back to his front. His finger trails up and over my thigh and to my hip, slowly moving over my stomach.

  His mouth is at my ear, and I can hear his breath quivering. Almost as if he is aroused, too.

  What the fuck was in those drinks?

  But I’m too relaxed to stop it, too relaxed to think. I just know I want this …. whatever this is….to keep going.

  “Are you asleep, baby?” he whispers.

  “Hmm.” With my eyes closed, I put my hand up over my shoulder, onto his cheek. “Don’t stop, Nathe,” I whisper.

  He inhales sharply as he kisses the side of my face, and I feel his erection up against my behind.

  Am I dreaming this? Am I in a hornbag, drunken stupor right now?

  What’s happening?

  I’m too relaxed to care, and I’m completely sure that one of us should be the sober and responsible person right now and stop this idiocy.

  His hand goes to my breast and he kneads it hard as he pulls me back against his body.

  Fuck.

  My sex begins to throb.

  “Eliza,” he whispers as his lips move to my neck. He kisses me, and I feel his tongue as it swipes over my skin. My sex clenches in appreciation.

  His hands are roaming all over me, goosebumps trailing where his fingers go, and our bodies writhing together slowly.

  I’m wet—so wet.

  I feel like I’m having an out of body experience.

  Everything feels magnified. Every breath that he takes, every quiver on his inhale. Every vein I think I can feel in his hard cock.

  I just want to roll over, open my legs, and kiss him.

  I want him inside of me. I want to feel my Nathan inside me.

  Every hard inch.

  His phone rings, and we both jump back from each other guiltily.

  He answers it. “Nathan Mercer.” He drops his head as he listens.

  I stare at him as my heart hammers in my chest. With only the moonlight in the room, I can see the tip of his cock as it peeks over the top of his boxer shorts.

  He’s hard. Rock hard. I didn’t imagine it.

  His eyes rise to meet mine.

  “Yes.” He listens. “Give him the other antibiotic and begin fluids.” He listens some more. “Call me if there’s any change.” He hangs up and stares at me for a moment.

  Something hangs heavily in the air between us.

  I swallow the lump in my throat as I wait for him to say something, and finally, he speaks. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Where to?”

  His haunted eyes hold mine. “Away from you.”

  He turns and grabs his clothes in the darkness before he rushes up the hall. A few moments later, I hear the front door click closed.

  He’s gone.

  What the hell just happened?

  * * *

  The alarm blares through my room breaking the silence. I frown sleepily and knock it off.

  “Ouch.” My head feels like it’s in a vise. Those margaritas were the devil.

  Hazy memories of last night’s disaster begin to resurface.

  Nathan didn’t come back after he cooled down, like I thought he would. He never stays away when we fight.

  We crossed a line.

  I have no idea why that happened when it’s never happened before. We’ve been drunk a million times together. We’ve cuddled, spooned, and damn… we see each other half-dressed all the time. I get a vision of him naked, and I remember how I couldn’t look away. How he seemed more virile than ever before.

  Jeez, my hormones must be crazy at the moment. I need to get laid, stat. This is turning into a nightmare. I reach over and grab my phone from the side table and check it. There are no missed calls.

  Nathan’s last words come back to me last night.

  Away from you.

  Does he blame me?

  My mind goes back to that moment in bed, and what I said. Don’t stop.

  I wince in regret. Why did I say that? He knows I’m struggling with my libido right now, my hormones are running out of control and taking over. Did I force myself on him? I sit up, filled with disgust.

  I need to fix this between us. I need to fix this now.

  I dial his number.

  Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring. No answer; it goes to voicemail.

  I frown, and look at my clock. It’s now 6:00 am. Nathan will be in his car on the way to the hospital.

  He’s not answering my call. He does blame me.


  I begin to get annoyed. Is he for real? It wasn’t just me in this bed. He was hard and good to go, too. I hang up angrily and storm to the shower.

  Damn him, I don’t want to feel like shit. Why couldn’t he just answer his phone?

  I storm into the bathroom and turn on the hot water.

  Damn fucking libido. That bitch is going to Hell and she is dragging me down with her.

  * * *

  I pace back and forth in the hospital courtyard. It’s my lunch break and I need to talk to someone about this. I dial my sister April’s number. She’s my best friend, and I’ve been waiting for her to wake up. She’s six years younger than me and has just moved to London. She got a scholarship for a law degree at some fancy university over there. I miss her desperately.

  “Did you wet the bed?” she grumbles. “Its fucking early, Lize.”

  “Oh my God, April, it’s a fucking disaster.”

  “What is?”

  “Nathan and I made out,” I whisper as I look around guiltily. “Well, we didn’t make out—there was no kissing—but we felt each other up, and he was kissing my neck.”

  “Good.”

  My eyes bulge from their sockets. “What do you mean, good?”

  “About time.”

  “Are you fucking insane?” I whisper angrily. “This is a disaster and now he’s angry at me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he thinks I don’t care about our friendship.”

  “Oh God.” She sighs. “Was he hard?”

  “Yes.” I feel naughty even discussing this. “Very hard.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Will you stop it?”

  “No, this was always going to happen. He adores you, I could see that from the day I first met him and saw you together.”

  “Have you forgotten one very important detail?” I whisper. “He likes men.”

  “And you, apparently.” I can tell she’s smiling.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “It kind of is.” She laughs. “Stop being frigid and just have sex with him to find out if he’s as hot as I imagine he is. I want all the details.”

  “Oh my God!” I snap. “You are no help.”

  She laughs again.

  “How are you anyway?” I ask. “Settling in any better?”

  “Ugh, I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing, Lize. I feel like a fish out of water over here.”

  “Oh no, why?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighs. “Everyone in the dorms is just so young and into partying, you know? I knew I’d be a little older than everyone, and it’s one of the reasons I came to London. It was the only place I could get a full scholarship that included all my accommodation. But seriously, the drugs, the orgies, the fake giggles… it’s just not my style.”

  “They’ll settle down. Surely they can’t keep this up. What is it, like, week eight?”

  “It’s getting worse, not better.”

  “Why don’t you move into your own place?”

  “Have you seen the price of rent for apartments in London? It’s ludicrous. Even the dumps are way out of my price point.”

  I exhale heavily. “Hang in there, babe. Try and find a better paying job.”

  “I am.”

  I smile. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Lize. Some days I think I must be crazy.”

  April broke up with her fiancé when she caught him cheating with a girl he worked with. He broke her heart. She packed her clothes and left everything in their house which they had bought together. She’s now following her dream to become a lawyer, and she’s starting over from scratch with nothing to her name.

  She’s the bravest, badass bitch I know.

  “How’s the coffee house going?” I ask.

  “Good. I love it there, and the girls I work with are so nice. We’re going out on the weekend.”

  “See? You’ll settle in, I know you will, and I’m going to come and see you as soon as I can.”

  “Great, now go talk to Nathan. I’m sure he’s as stressed as you are.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I sigh.

  “Call me tonight.”

  “Okay, love you.”

  “Bye, love you, too.”

  * * *

  I’m sitting in the office at the Martyr Hospital, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

  But I can’t. I’m freaking out about Nathan and what I’ve done.

  I should have listened to the warning signals my body was giving me. We have been acting different toward each other lately. If I’d just listened to my gut and taken a step back from him, this wouldn’t have happened.

  I hear a familiar voice out in the hall near recovery.

  I jump up and step out into the corridor, where Nathan is talking to a nurse about a patient.

  His eyes come to me.

  “Dr. Mercer,” I say. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Yes,” he says as if I’m an annoyance.

  “Can I see you in my office for a moment when you’re finished here, please?”

  “I have to get going. I have an appointment.”

  “It will take one minute,” I reply sharply.

  He clenches his jaw, unimpressed by my tone. “Fine.”

  I march back into my office. He can be such an asshole when he wants to be. Moments later, he walks into my office and puts his hands into his suit pockets. “What do you want, Eliza?”

  “What do you mean, what do I want?” I whisper angrily.

  “Exactly what I said.”

  “Are we going to talk about last night?” I ask.

  “Nothing to talk about,” He snaps.

  “Are you kidding me? If there was nothing to talk about, why did you leave last night?”

  “Because I wanted to.” He sneers.

  I narrow my eyes. Nathan is never like this with me. This is the behaviour he saves for everyone else. “What is your problem?”

  “You are my fucking problem.”

  “Me?” I point to my chest. “What did I do?”

  “Oh, please.” He scoffs with an eye roll. “You know exactly what you fucking did.”

  My fury begins to boil. “And what is that?”

  “Waving your half-naked ass all over my dick, and…” He clenches his jaw as if to stop himself spitting out poison.

  “You were massaging me.” My eyes bulge. “It was your hands on me. Are you kidding?”

  “Do I look like I’m fucking kidding? What is this? A big joke to you?”

  I frown. He’s really rattled by this. “Nathan, calm down. So, we got a little tipsy and crossed the line. It was just an accident.”

  “That won’t happen again.” He growls.

  “You’re overreacting.”

  His eyes nearly bulge from their sockets. “And you are underreacting. It’s blatantly obvious that you don’t give a flying fuck about our friendship.” He heads for the door.

  What the hell?

  “We’ll talk about it tonight.” I try to calm him—he’s about to have a heart attack or something.

  “There is no tonight, Eliza.”

  “Why not?”

  He glares at me. “I need some space.”

  My heart drops. “From me?”

  “Yes. From you.”

  We stare at each other for a moment. Something has shifted between us.

  He rushes out the door. I stare at it for a moment, shocked.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. For fuck’s sake… what a disaster.

  Nathan

  “Nathan, this way, please.” Elliot smiles as he calls me from his waiting room. I follow him into his office and take a seat.

  “How are you?” He smiles.

  “Terrible.” I’ve been rattled since seeing Eliza at the hospital this afternoon.

  The look on her face.

  He sits down. “Tell me, what’s been happening? I take it there have been developments with Eliza?”

  I drag my hand down
my face. “It’s gotten worse. Everything is worse. I can’t even look at her now.”

  He frowns. “Why is that?”

  “Last night.” I screw up my face at the memories. “We fought, and then we went out to dinner and had cocktails.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “What did you fight about?”

  “My jealousy.”

  “We’ll come back to that. Go on.”

  “We got into bed and… she just felt so good, you know? I couldn’t help myself. For two hours before that, I’d been ….” I swallow the lump of shame in my throat. “Picturing her in every sexual position known to man.” I pause for a moment. “Picturing her head between my legs… her mouth full of… me.”

  “I see.”

  “When I got into bed, something snapped.”

  He narrows his eyes. “How did this start?”

  “Her back was sore, so I offered her a massage. I shouldn’t have. I knew before I started that it was a bad idea. I knew it was wrong.”

  “It’s not wrong to offer a massage to a friend, Nathan.”

  “It is when the sole purpose of it is to feel their body.”

  “You wanted to feel Eliza?”

  I nod and close my eyes in regret. “More than anything.”

  “What happened?”

  “I massaged her and then…” I think back to how she felt beneath my hands, and I feel my arousal creeping in again.

  Fuck. Stop it.

  “Go on, Nathan.”

  “We laid on our sides, and my hands were all over her body.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She told me not to stop.”

  He frowns. “So, your fears may be unwarranted?”

  My eyes flick to him. “My fears?”

  “That she wouldn’t want to be sexual with you?”

  “I know that I can get her to want me… sexually,” I stammer. “At least once. That’s not my concern.”

  “What’s your concern?”

  “That the sex won’t be what I think it will be.”

  He nods. “You’re worried you won’t like heterosexual intercourse.”

  “What happens then? What do I tell her? Sorry, I tried you out but we don’t fit?”

  “And you think that will be what ends your friendship?”