Chapter 11
I ’m having the best dream.
I’m shaking hands with Amani after one of my column pieces wins an award for outstanding writing, and she’s offering me yet another raise given my impeccable work ever since I got promoted. Everyone in the office is congratulating me on a job well done, and I thank them modestly before going home to my own lavish penthouse on the Upper East Side.
My chauffeur drives me across town to the most expensive building in the neighborhood, which I just so happened to buy out this morning, and the doorman has to fight off the paparazzi and journalists who are swarming around the entrance just to get a glimpse of me. I can practically see the headlines now: New York’s Hot New Writer Takes The City By Storm with her Incredible Wit and Beauty. I sign a few autographs and give the cameras a cheeky kiss before heading inside, going up the one-hundredth floor in my private elevator.
My designer stilettos click-clack against the marble floors as I step inside the penthouse and call out for my husband— I have a husband? —who promptly rounds the corner holding our brand new little puppy.
“How was your day at work, Honey?” The nameless man calls out to me as he approaches.
But—wait a minute. The closer my fictional husband gets to me, the more I start to make out his face. This is no random guy my brain whipped up just for the purposes of this dream. No, I definitely know this man.
It’s Eli.
My heart starts beating rapidly as he gets closer, coming to greet me—his wife—with a kiss. I don’t care if it’s just a dream, my pulse is currently going into overdrive at the thought of feeling his lips on mine. It feels like forever before his face is finally within inches of mine, and I hold my breath for the most breathtaking kiss of my life. He bends his face down, delicately taking my chin in his hand, and…
He licks me?
What the hell?
My head is swirling with confusion and disappointment when it hits me: that wasn’t the dream. This is happening in real life.
My eyes flash open to find Princess giving me wet doggy kisses while she hops around excitedly on the bed, and I instantly feel bummed at the reality check.
So. Close .
Not that I don’t love her, but her kisses aren’t exactly the ones I was hoping for. I give her a few scratches to appease her before turning myself around, determined to steal a couple more minutes of shut-eye before starting the day. That is, until I find myself face to face with the last person I ever expected to wake up next to. The very one that I was just fantasizing about.
Eli is in my bed.
I repeat: Elias Kaplan is in MY bed.
Why? How ?
I jerk backward to take in the scene around me and notice he’s still fully dressed in his going-out clothes, lying on top of the duvet, completely knocked out.
Oh my God.
I fell asleep next to Eli last night. And he fell asleep next to me. We slept together? I mean, we didn’t sleep together. Not like that. We couldn’t have. No way. Not a chance.
…Right?
My sudden panicked movements must have stirred him awake because not a moment later, he grumbles and groans as his eyes begin to flutter open. I stay perfectly still and don’t dare to make a sound, thinking he won’t be able to see me if I don’t move. Kind of like a T-Rex.
“Gemma?” he splutters as his eyes bulge open in my direction.
Shit .
He saw me.
“Hey. So uh, quick question,” I answer, trying my best to sound as casual as possible. “Why are you in my bed?”
He jolts upright and looks around the room as if the answer is written somewhere on the walls, avoiding all eye contact. “That’s a good question. A very good question.”
I could have sworn this bed was King-sized yesterday. Right now it feels about two inches wide, like if I got any closer to Eli I’d be sitting on his lap.
“Care to take a whack at answering it?”
He hops off the bed and smooths out the front of his shirt, his face looking so pink it’s like he got a sunburn overnight.
“You fell asleep on my shoulder,” he starts abruptly. “Last night, you fell asleep on me and I didn’t want to wake you up by moving, so I just thought I’d wait it out. But then… I guess I was pretty tired, too. I must have fallen asleep before I got the chance to leave.”
Okay.
Okay, that’s fine.
This is fine. No big deal, just two single adults who happened to fall asleep in the same bed. There’s no need to freak out.
Except I am freaking out. Sleeping together, even in the literal sense, is intimate. And I don’t do well with intimacy. The last time I slept with a man in either sense of the word was, well, a long time ago. Longer than I care to admit.
Now I’m going to get awkward and flustered and panicky around him like I always do when things get too intimate for my liking (can you say baggage, much?) and it’s going to ruin everything.
Correction, I’m going to ruin everything. Just when I was starting to get comfortable, to like my new friend and the company he provided, I had to go and fall asleep on him and make things weird. God, I’m the worst.
“Gem? Are you good?” he asks me, and I realize I still haven’t said anything back amidst my slow descent into madness. “It’s no big deal, we can just forget about it.”
Sure, in a perfect world where I’m normal and this didn’t completely freak me the hell out, I could do that. Unfortunately, we don’t live in a perfect world so I am bound by my self-sabotaging ways to blow this whole thing way out of proportion.
“Great, we’ll do that. Let’s start right now,” I blurt, hastily getting up and making my way around the bed to him. “You go back to your room and we’ll both count to ten and pretend like the last nine hours never happened. ‘Kay?”
I start guiding him toward the door, ever so gently pushing on his chest in an effort to get him the hell out of here. Except it only manages to make me even more flustered the second my hands meet his brick of a torso. Damn his well-toned body.
“Okay… Are you sure that’s what you want to—”
“Yep!”
I don’t even let him finish his sentence before yanking open the door and sending him on his way, flashing him what I’m sure is a horribly unconvincing smile. He tries to say something more but I simply shut the door right in his face before he has a chance to, leaning back against it once he’s safely out in the hallway.
Well. That couldn’t have gone any worse.
***
“Ready?” Cassie whispers to me, holding a plate bearing a solitary cupcake in one hand while the other shields the flickering candle we just shoved into the frosting.
We’re standing outside Veda’s bedroom door at a quarter past ten, ready to burst in and surprise her with a birthday cupcake. Though she’s always up bright and early on Mondays for our team meetings, she’s been known to sleep in until noon on the weekend. Usually we try and respect her late rising by being extra quiet in the morning, but not today. Today is a special day, and we have lots planned—so she needs to get her ass up.
I nod furiously, trying my best to contain my excitement even though I’m ready to burst into giggles with anticipation. Cassie counts down from three before we open the door and bust into the dark room, the light from the hallway hitting Veda’s sleeping face.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” we scream in unison at the top of our lungs, granting us nothing but a groan in return.
She buries her face into her pillow in an attempt to shield her eyes, but it’s done in vain when I flick on the light switch a second later.
“Too early. Must sleep,” she grunts as we shamelessly plop ourselves down on the corner of her bed.
“There’s a cupcake in it for you if you get up,” I tempt her, banking on her weakness for baked goods.
“What flavor..?”
“Red velvet.”
That manages to get her attention. She pokes her head out from under the pillow, throwing a glance at the goody Cassie’s holding out.
“It’s from that bakery you love down the street,” I lilt right before Cassie says, “And if you don’t eat it in the next thirty seconds, I will.”
Veda’s eyes grow wide as she quickly sits up and takes the plate, drumming her fingers against her chin while she thinks up her wish. Not two seconds later she blows out the candle in one swift whoosh, Cassie and I cheering as she digs into the cupcake and thanks us endlessly.
“It’s official,” she says through a mouthful of icing. “I’m only ever having cupcakes for breakfast for as long as I live.”
Once the last few crumbs have been devoured and Veda has been thoroughly woken up, Cassie takes back the plate and jumps up from the bed. “We have a big day planned for you, so hurry up and get dressed.”
“Something cute but still functional,” I add, following suit. “Be prepared to do a little walking.”
Veda holds her hand to her heart, already starting to get gushy on us. And it’s not even noon. “You guys ! You didn’t have to plan anything for my birthday!”
“Too late, it’s already been done and there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”
“Now move that Pilates booty and put some clothes on so we can get going!” Cassie orders.
We all hastily exit her room, Veda going to the bathroom to get herself ready and Cassie and I heading to the kitchen to sit at the ratty stools in front of the counter. I pour myself a cup of coffee from the pot that’s sitting out, wincing as soon as I take my first sip. It’s burnt, about three times too strong, and tastes like discount beans. Same as always.
The only thing going for it is that it’s still mildly hot. But as much as Cassie’s overly strong brew is practically inedible, I realize I’ve kind of missed choking it down every morning while I’ve been away.
“So, spill it,” she says after downing the last of her own mug. “How’s it going over at Chez Kaplan?”
My heart skips a beat at the mere mention of Eli’s name, and I pray the emotion isn’t showing on my face.
“Pretty uneventful,” I shrug in response.
Even though I’m desperate to tell her about the unexpected events of last night—and my complete mismanagement of the situation this morning—I stop myself before the words can come out of my mouth. I have to remind myself that this isn’t the time or place. Today is Veda’s birthday; the last thing I want to do is make it about me .
I’ll just fill them in on the juicy details tomorrow.
“Man, I was hoping you guys would’ve slept together by now and you’d have a steamy story to tell me.”
Well, she got the sleeping part right.
“I told you, I’m not interested in him like that.”
She practically scoffs at me in disbelief as she dumps the remainder from the coffee pot into her cup, stirring in some sugar matter-of-factly. “Babe, he’s rich and good-looking. Everyone would be interested in him like that.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, pulling at the neck of my shirt as sweat pools in my chest. It’s uncomfortably hot in here (Goatee Gary still hasn’t fixed the AC), and Cassie’s line of questioning isn’t helping.
“Hold up, how do you know he’s good-looking?”
“Um, A) you told us over the phone when you first met him. And B) I may have done a light background check on him online… You know, just to make sure you weren’t living with a creep,” she smiles innocently. “And all I have to say is, damn .”
I let out a chuckle at the realization that two out of three of us have now stalked Eli online, glad to know I’m not the only one with an incorrigible curiosity.
“It’s not like that with us,” I assure her without being able to look her directly in the eyes. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I get the feeling she’d see right through me if she looked at me too closely. “We’re friends—nay, acquaintances . Nothing more.”
“Right, look who I’m talking to.” She rolls her eyes. “You never date.”
“Excuse me, I’ve dated!”
“Um, ‘going on dates’ and actually dating , like being all gross and lovey-dovey with someone you introduce to your family and shit, are two completely different things. You’ve gone on dates, but you’ve never dated.”
A huff is all I can manage in response, because she’s not totally wrong. The thing is, there’s a good reason for it: everyone always leaves. Either you move away or they break up with you first, but the bottom line is I end up heartbroken. And I don’t want to put myself through that for some temporary joy.
“Whatever. Even if I was ‘dating’, in your definition of the word, I wouldn’t want to do it with Eli,” I insist.
“If you say so.”
She gives me a side eye as thumps and bangs ensue from Veda’s room, the door swinging open a moment later to reveal her grinning ear to ear.
“I’m ready!”
Somehow, she’s managed to look perfectly polished after only a handful of minutes have passed—a feat I’ve never been able to accomplish. She’s sporting an adorable purple matching set which I happen to know she’s been dying to show off since she bought it two months ago, with her hair effortlessly pulled up into a French twist. As usual, she sticks out like a fashionably sore thumb amongst Cassie and I, looking far too cool to be hanging out with the likes of us.
“Alright Birthday Girl, let’s get this show on the road!”