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Em gives me a cheeky smile, waving the chip she’s about to eat in my face as she replies, her voice holding a hint of the sarcasm I’ve come to expect from her. I’m not normally a fan of people who are sarcastic, but Em does it in such a way, you can’t help but still like her.
“Oh, Lee, you wouldn’t happen to be asking that so you can segway into asking me out again, would you?”
Thankfully I’ve just finished eating the chip, as her comment causes me to laugh aloud, and I feel sure it would have been difficult to contain the pieces of potato, had I been laughing with a mouthful. “Well, I wasn’t, but now you mention it, do you wanna hang out again?”
I watch as Em’s bright bluey-grey eyes light up, but she quickly tries to hide her smile by pulling her lower lip between her teeth, biting down. I hate how fucking sexy that simple gesture is. She quickly schools her features and her brow furrows. I’m starting to recognise some of her facial features, but some—like this—are a complete mystery to me. I wish I knew what she was thinking in that pretty purple head of hers.
“I start a stretch of three night shifts tomorrow, finishing on Thursday morning. I may pick up an extra shift and finish on Friday morning instead. It just depends how busy they are. So, during the week probably won’t be a good time. I will be asleep all day and working all night, which sadly doesn’t do much for a social life. I do have Saturday, Sunday, and Monday off, before I start a few day shifts. But I’m usually pretty tired after nights. What are you thinking?” she explains, as her body droops a little, looking very tired all of a sudden.
I put my arm around Em’s shoulders and pull her in until her side is plastered against mine, and she’s able to tilt her head to rest it into the crook of my shoulder. She doesn’t yawn, or even say that she’s tired, but all of a sudden it was like it just hit her and her body started to sag. “Are you okay?” I ask.
She gives me a small smile, looking up at me with her head still resting against my arm. “Yeah, I’ve just come over very tired, that’s all. My body feels a little heavy, with some pins and needles, like I’ve been sitting on this cold pier for too long. When we start walking again I will be fine. Anyway, I told you what I’m doing this week, and you were going to tell me why you asked,” she reminds me, and I can’t help but chuckle. Although I’m worried by the way her exhaustion just came along and hit her unexpectedly, I did bring up this topic, so now I need to finish it. The big question remains, what do I want?
I need to keep reminding myself that this is a friends-with-benefits situation only. I don’t need to take her on dates—in fact, I’m sure that’s one of the things I shouldn’t do. I can booty call her, or make plans for when we are next going to have sex—that is perfectly allowed. Hell, under the friendship bit of the term, I can even arrange to hang out with her sometimes.
I just need to remember where to draw the line. But, the more time I spend with Em, the more fuzzy that line becomes. Only, I can’t break it. There’s a reason I don’t want to be in a relationship, and I need to remember that, hold onto it whenever I think of asking her on a date.
“Maybe we can do something when I finish work Friday night? Pizza and a film at yours, sound okay?” I ask, trying to hide how fucking hopeful I sound.
I mean, I could have said I just want to Netflix and Chill, but that just doesn’t feel right. Hell, I could have just said I want to come over to fuck, and my good girl would have said come over whenever. But, those aren’t what I mean. I really do just want to chill out, curl up on the sofa together, as we watch a movie together. Friday is always an awful day for me, after working hard the whole week.
I mean, I know everyone working Monday to Friday feels tired by Friday, and that my job working as a support analyst in IT isn’t the most stressful job, but it is for me. And normally I would come home and sleep as much as possible over the weekend, but now I get to spend it with Em. Yes, fucking her would really help blow off some steam after a shitty week, but so would just being near her.
No! Stop thinking like that. She’s a fuck buddy, and that’s all. I need to remember that.
“That sounds perfect. Shall we head back?” she asks, lifting her head off my shoulder, only to have it drop back against me. I look at her with concern, but she manages to pull herself up. She stretches her muscles, after being sat on the hard, cold concrete floor, it’s not surprising that her body is stiff, and once she’s shaken out all her muscles, she doesn’t look as tired anymore.
Without thinking about it, I take her hand in mine, interlacing our fingers together with ease. We begin the short journey back to the car, and as we do, I notice Em is shaking her free hand. I look over and she stops doing it, blush spreads across her cheeks as she keeps her eyes down to avoid my gaze.
“Are you okay?” I ask, gesturing to her now still hand with my head when she finally looks up at me.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just have a bit of a numb arm, probably from being sat in the wrong position for too long. It’s nothing you have to worry about. Honestly, my body is weird, and it’s always doing strange things like that. I have times when I’m so dizzy I faint, but there’s no reason for it to happen. My family joke that I’m so clumsy, it’s just my body’s way of rebelling for all the times I've injured it.”
She laughs, but I can’t bring myself to. Even just an off-hand comment about being clumsy, it bothers me. I don’t know why, but I don’t like when she talks negatively about herself. This woman is beyond incredible. She’s smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. In my opinion, she doesn’t have anything to be negative about. But, I’m very aware that I haven't known her for long, and we’re also not in the type of relationship where I can go against what her family says.
I can feel the lines between us blurring, and it scares the shit out of me. But, even if I somehow miraculously decide I like her, and she’s the girl for me, it doesn’t matter. I can’t be in a relationship. End of discussion.
Fuck, Emmaleigh deserves someone so much better than me. I should let her go, so she can find a guy who actually wants to—and can—give her the world. I’m not, nor will I ever, be that guy. I’ve also never wanted to before, but as I look at this stunning woman, with the most gorgeous eyes, and silky purple hair, I start to reconsider. Maybe I do want the possibility of forever, but it will never happen. I don’t have the capacity to be anyone’s boyfriend.
CHAPTERELEVEN
EMMALEIGH
The last couple of weeks have passed by in a bit of a blur. Work just seems to be constant at the moment, and I don’t think I’m giving my body enough downtime in between my regular shifts and the overtime I’m practically forced to do. I know I’m not eighteen any more, but at twenty-four, my body should still spring back a lot quicker than it is.
In addition to being absolutely exhausted—which can’t just be because of the long shifts or not sleeping on nights—my body keeps doing weird things again. When I’m super tired, and I mean to the point where my joints physically ache and it’s hard to move, I’ve been getting blurred vision and an accompanying headache. I’ve never had migraines before, but that’s what the doctor is claiming is the problem now.
Which is fine, but it doesn’t explain the times when my right leg feels like a dead weight and I can hardly walk on it. Or when I’m trying to use my hands, but the pins and needle sensation that overcomes them makes them feel as though my skin is burning.
Thankfully, I have Lee to distract me from my failing body. I can’t bring myself to do another doctor's trip. I’m sick of them telling me it’s nothing, I’m overworked, or my personal favourite… have I considered losing some weight. What a fucking joke. Of course I know I’m overweight, I can see by looking in a fucking mirror, yet they still feel the need to point it out to me. After the last one diagnosed me with migraines, and didn’t give a shit about the pins and needle sensations, or the intermittent numbness in my leg, I can’t be bothered any more.
Sometimes they look at my job, see I’m a nurse, and assume I either know what the problem is, or I’m overreacting. Of course nurses are more likely to assume the worst, since we spend day after day caring for people who are quite literally living their worst case scenario. But that doesn’t mean we know everything. I know what symptoms I have, but I have no idea how they link together or what they could be. Hell, at one point, even I just put it down to the fact I’m clumsy, or I’m overweight. I’ve always put my faith in medical professionals, so if the doctor doesn’t think it’s anything, I will have to go with that.
I begin pacing up and down my living room, stopping occasionally to look out of the window to see if Lee’s car has arrived yet. Even though he’s spent every weekend here since that first night together, he still takes a moment in his car before coming in. I’ve never asked him why, and honestly, I won’t. I pace up and down the living room, mentally preparing myself to act normal and not screw this up. I also have to give my brain the usual reminder pep talk.
This is not a relationship. We are only friends-with-benefits. Don’t get any more involved. Don’t get your heart broken.
I repeat those things over and over in my head, hoping like hell that at least one of them will stick. This will be Lee’s fourth weekend of staying over, and every one is better than the last. It’s not even the sex stuff—though that does get more and more mind blowing each time we fool around—it’s the other stuff too. Like when we cuddle up together on the sofa to watch a movie. Or how he will text me after a long shift to make sure I’m okay, and that I’ve eaten.
