Drake
The shifting of the bed in the morning woke me. I opened my eyes to see Rafael with his back to me, bare-assed and gorgeous in the sunlight streaming through the window. Apparently, we’d been tired enough for it not to wake us so far.
I was tangled in the sheets, splayed out; I must have had an arm wrapped around him, and it was probably him getting out from under me that finally made me stir. I watched him move towards something on the floor and then bend to grab whatever it was. I wasn’t complaining at all about the view.
I was about to open my mouth and greet him, let him know that I’d been enjoying ogling him, but the thing he’d picked up was a phone, and he put it to his ear.
“Grey?” he said.
My eyes snapped open wider.
His voice was low like he didn’t want to disturb me. He still thought I was asleep. Maybe that was what made me shut my eyes as he turned half towards me, deliberately evening out my breathing and pretending.
If I was still asleep, how would this conversation go?
He sighed heavily. I heard him moving; in my mind’s eye picture of the room, I thought maybe he’d gone towards the window.
“No,” he started, but Grey must have cut him off by saying something else.
I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation. I strained my ears, but the phone was too far away. I wanted badly to know what Grey was saying.
I wanted to know why Rafael had even picked up the fucking phone. Weren’t we supposed to be moving on from Grey Monaghan? Hadn’t we wanted to tell him to go fuck himself last night?
Maybe that was why he had answered. So he could tell him –
“You seriously want me to come in today?” Rafael said.
Here it was. Fuck you, Grey . That was the next line out of his mouth. I was sure of it.
Rafael sighed. I heard him pace up and down a few times.
“Fine,” he said, his voice even lower than before. “Fine. Give me ten – no, I left my car there. Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be in.”
My whole body stiffened.
What the fuck?
Had he just agreed to go back to work ?
I barely remembered to breathe as I heard him moving about the room, picking up clothes. There was the soft scrape of wood against wood – opening a dresser, I thought, and then a slight thud as he stumbled while dressing, one foot landing on the floor harder than he intended. He was being so careful. So quiet.
He didn’t want me to wake up and know what he was doing.
The fucking coward was going to sneak back to work and take my job without even telling me.
Was that what last night had been all about?
My mind raced. I couldn’t believe it.
No, this couldn’t be right. Last night had been – without any trace of exaggeration – the best sex of my entire fucking life. Rafael and I seemed to fit in ways I’d never experienced before. Like someone had handcrafted us as two halves of the same whole. Or maybe that was hole, since all I wanted to do was bury myself inside of him so deep I wouldn’t see straight for the next week.
How could he have felt what I felt if he was just planning to take the job from under me all along?
Had he even really told Grey to stuff his job last night, or was that a lie? Had he waited until I left to reassure Grey that he would be back to work in the morning and then run after me?
I couldn’t wrap my head around it – any of it.
Had I been played?
Rafael was silent for a moment. I couldn’t dare to open my eyes and see what he was doing. I was waiting for him to come over and wake me up – talk to me – explain this. Then there was a scratch of something on a surface nearby and the brush of a soft sound afterward, and he was walking across the room.
I heard him cross the apartment hallway outside, put on a pair of shoes, open the door, and then close and lock it behind him.
A second later, the tinkle of something metallic shoved under the door and skittering across the tiles.
He’d left the key for me, at least.
I opened my eyes and looked around, careful at first, making sure I hadn’t been tricked in some way. But I was right: Rafael was gone. The apartment felt cold and empty all of a sudden, and I hurriedly grabbed more of the sheet against myself, covering my body.
I looked to the left and saw the source of the mysterious sounds I’d heard: a scrap of paper left on the nightstand with a hurried note scribbled on it. I picked it up and read Rafael’s messy, quick handwriting, trying to parse it. Had to go out – you looked peaceful – please leave key on top of front door ledge.
I put the note down, disappointed. He couldn’t even tell me where he’d gone?
He was hiding it from me. Not waking me up so he didn’t have to tell me, then admitting nothing at all in his note.
He wouldn’t hide something from me unless he thought that it was wrong.
I grabbed my clothes and dressed quickly, wishing I could shower to wash the night away – but I didn’t want to be vulnerable here in Rafael’s apartment for longer than I needed to. Besides, it looked like he only had the most basic of amenities here. There was barely any furniture, no decoration at all, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he only had one set of towels. It was like he didn’t live here at all.
What was that all about?
I hesitated at the door, wondering what to do. I could have gone home and forgotten about all of this, maybe gone back to the town I was living in before coming here and found some old friends to drink with until I forgot. I could have spent the day with a job site and an updated resume, trying to find a new position.
Or I could have gone after Rafael, asked him what the fuck was going on and figured all of this out.
The last one, I decided, grabbing the key and locking the door behind me.
I was going back to The Crow, a place I’d vowed less than twelve hours ago never to visit again. Fine; it would have to be that way. I needed answers, and I needed them now. I kept the key in my hand. No point in leaving it here when I was about to see Rafael in person anyway.
My phone rang in my pocket and I grabbed it, checking the caller ID, anxious for it to be Rafael.
It wasn’t.
I answered the call and put it to my ear, my heart in my mouth.
“Hello?”
“Hi, yes, is that Warwick?” It was a woman’s voice, with the professional tone of a secretary, assistant, or suchlike.
“It is?”
“Can you confirm your date of birth so we can verify your identity? I’m calling from Dr. Pierson’s office.”
I rattled it off for her. “What’s this about?”
“I have the results of the latest scan of your wrist,” the woman said. She hesitated for a moment. “Dr. Pierson has requested that you come in to see him for a consultation to discuss what the scan showed.”
My back stiffened. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“I’m afraid I’m not appraised of the details right now, sir,” she said. “Dr. Pierson just wanted to go through the scan with you in person. I’m not aware of whether it’s a good or bad sign.”
Despite her reassurance, I knew.
“Okay,” I said. “When does he want to see me?”
“Actually, he has an opening later today,” she said, and that was when I knew I was really fucked.
I reached up to put the key on the ledge of the doorframe, hidden out of sight above the door. “I’m on my way in now,” I said, putting my helmet on as I walked so that I would be ready the second I got to my bike.