Page 23 of The Best Number
Ifeel unusually low after Cassidy leaves. After a night like we’ve just had, I would usually be on a high from all the orgasms, but it’s strange to see her walk off. I don’t know what to make of that. Or how I should feel about everything that’s happened.
“What are your plans today?” Tom asks as I shut the door and we make our way back inside.
“I dunno. I might go to the gym. What about you?”
“I was thinking maybe I’d head home.” He’s looking me dead in the eye, and a burst of frustration spears through me.What the fuck does he want from me?I feel there is more going on than he’s letting on.
“Sure,” comes my monosyllabic reply.
“Okay, I’ll tidy the kitchen and then head off.”
“Don’t bother. You cooked, I’ll do it.”
“Do you think Cassidy will be okay with her call with her ex?” he mutters absent mindedly.
“She’s a big girl and I’m sure she’s been handling him for a while. She’ll be fine.”
“He’s a piece of work.”
“Yeah, he was a massive dick, but she’s divorcing him, so at least she’s getting rid of him.”
I make my way through to the kitchen to start tidying. There isn’t that much to do. Tom is much more restrained in his use of kitchen equipment than I am and tends to tidy up as he goes. The man is practically perfect in every way. And today that’s annoying me.
“When are you working next?” I ask.
“Tonight and every night next week, except Wednesday.” Hmmm, so that means I probably won’t see him this week. I try to smooth out the frown as I think that.
“Probably best we take a breather after last night anyway,” I say, to counteract the need to see him again soon.
“I’ll just go and grab my stuff and head out.” He comes closer towards me and usually I’d turn so he could kiss me. I might have even felt him up. But I’m not feeling it. So I let him kiss me on the cheek instead. “Jack…” he says. I look over to see indecision moving across his face. “Don’t…”
“Spit it out.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Sure.” I’m back to one-word replies.
“Will you check on Cassidy later?”
“You’ve got her number—you text her.” I don’t know why I’m salty about that.Will they be bitching about me and my mood swings behind my back? If they are—fuck ‘em.
“See ya.” Tom shakes his head a little as he heads out. I don’t even walk over to the door with him and there’s a feeling of shame in my belly as he shuts it behind him without another word.
Why am I like this?Tom is even and steady. I know he cares about me, but sometimes it feels suffocating. I don’t want anything serious. I’m happy just having fun. But maybe this is too steady a thing now? It had started casual, but now, months later, we are seeing each other regularly and I haven’t slept with anyone except Tom—and now Cassidy—for ages.
We hadn’t agreed to be exclusive, so why has that happened?If I hadn’t just spent last night coming every which way, I might think about texting an old hook-up, but that’s not what I need right now. Instead, I finish wiping down the counters, grab my gym bag and keys and head out.
I push myself beyond my comfort zone in the gym. While I’m lifting weights and running flat out on the treadmill, I can concentrate on what I’m doing. Counting reps, pushing my pace and shutting my brain off. I try to have a sauna afterwards but barely last five minutes before my brain starts over-thinking again. I stomp to the changing rooms, making myself think about anything but last night and everything Tom, Cass, and I had done.
Opening up my phone notifications, I read a chatty email from Duncan, a former colleague who left recently for a contract in New York. His new job sounds amazing. He’s seeing all the sights and getting laid on the regular. He mentions how much I’d like it and that there might be more business strategist opportunities coming up; specialising in up-scaling, which is my passion. I thumb a quick reply, telling him it’s the same-same here in the UK and to give me a nudge if any more contracts become available. I’ve been thinking for a while about getting some overseas experience on my CV and this sounds like it could be a great chance to do that.
As I’m walking home, my phone rings. I spot it’s Duncan and click to accept the call.
“Hey man, how’s it going?” I greet him.
“Jack, good to reach you. I just saw your email reply and thought it would be easier to call.”
“What’s the time over there?”