Chance Encounters: The Collection

Chapter Five

Chapter FiveWhen I wake up, all is dark around us. I can hear his breathing next to me, deep and regular, but I'm completely restless. The night is ending and it hurts. It's not that I regret what happened, but I fear I may have gone about it all the wrong way.

This wasn't my first one night stand by far but it's certainly the first time I've felt this way after. Or during, for that matter. What's up with all this emotional crap?

My eyes are starting to adjust to the light, or lack thereof. The edge of the bed is starting to become visible, as well as the small couch at the far end of the spacious room which has some of our combined clothes piled over it.

Taking care not to wake him up, I lift up the sheets and slip out of bed. Suddenly I feel this incredible urge to cover up, to make myself just slightly less vulnerable. Luckily I had already laid out a nightie over the backrest of the couch, which I quickly put on.

Rummaging through my handbag, I locate my phone and earphones. Battery died, f*****g great. I put it on charge but it'll some time to become usable again. Feeling in quite urgent need of some music, I decide to check his pockets for a more immediate solution.

I'm in luck, there's an iPod in his jeans and it has plenty of battery life left. Hope he doesn't mind, but then again I'll probably never see him again after today anyway.

iPod in hand, I shove our clothes towards one side and sit down with my legs folded. Going into his playlists, I find the most played songs and start to listen. I close my eyes and let the music wash over me, calming me down.

Since I opted for the most listened-to songs, I'm again reminded of how similar our tastes are. I feel like I'm getting a glimpse of his personality through music. It's with a lot of difficulty that I remain quiet instead of tapping or humming along with the faster numbers.

I try to make sense of my thoughts, as I am, isolated from reality and surrounded by guitars and drums. I wasn't drinking particularly much and I don't think anything got slipped into my drink. But last night felt different than a normal casual hook-up would have. I noticed him by the bar, so far so good. I approached him, and then everything changed. The moment we made eye contact it was like a switch inside my head was flipped.

No longer did I want an anonymous bit of fun, but I wanted him. I wanted to know him, find out what makes him tick. Above all, I wanted to give him pleasure rather than fulfill my own needs.

I'm startled by a touch on my shoulder and open my eyes. f**k, he's up. I look up at him briefly while turning off the iPod and handing it to him but can't bear to make eye contact.

"Sorry I borrowed this, hope you don't mind..." I say.

"No, not at all... Lucy...." he pauses.

"Yes?"

"Umm... I'm not sure how these things work, but I...."

I wish he'd just come out and say it. He wants to head home, obviously. Staring at the floor, I just wait for him to continue.

"Did you want me to leave? I mean, you were gone when I woke up, I thought perhaps I've made you uncomfortable by staying the night."

"Not on my account, stay as long as you like," I say, trying to not to sound as low as I feel. "I just couldn't sleep."

"How come?" he asks. "Hope I wasn't snoring!"

I let out a chuckle and look up at him. The concern on his face looks genuine, the situation would be quite comical if it wasn't for my confused emotional state.

"Don't worry, you weren't," I respond. "Actually, I couldn't sleep because... I didn't want this to end."

He remains quiet for a few seconds, then he leans over and picks up all the clothes and dumps them on the bed. As he sits down beside me, the warm sensation of his thigh pressing against mine is putting me on edge.

"And you thought I did want it to end?" he asks finally.

"I don't know, isn't that how it usually goes?" I say.

"So let me know if I understand this correctly..." he says, "you want me to stay?"

"Yes." My voice is a whisper.

"And then?" he asks.

I just shake my head. Being honest is such a struggle.

Rather than putting myself out there, it would've been so much easier if I had told him to just leave initially. Less risky, because surely I'm just being a silly, needy cow right now. Every guy's worst nightmare after a perfectly good f**k the night before.

Tears are burning in my eyes, suddenly it feels like I have everything to lose.

"Why don't you first tell me what you want?" I whisper.

He takes my hand and strokes it with his fingers. It tickles just a little and waves of delicious goose bumps travel up my spine.

"More," he says.

I'm taken aback by his answer. All this is getting a bit weird, not at all what I expected to hear and I wonder if I just misunderstood him.

"What do you mean, more?"

"I want more than just one night with you. But I worry that I can't have that."

"What if that's exactly what I want too?" I ask, stealthily exploring his very serious expression from the corner of my eye.

"You hardly know anything about me. Don't make up your mind just yet."

"So tell me about you," I say.

"I don't want to pretend, it wouldn't work." He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"You could say I'm a bit of a loner, mostly by choice. But lately, I've found heading to the pub every night a lot easier than facing an empty house."

Despite how sad his admission is, I have to suppress a smile. We really are not so different; if there's one thing I can relate to it's loneliness.

"I've done that," I say. "Sometimes hooking up with someone, sometimes staying until closing."

Surely now he'll be the one to change his mind, even if my actions last night may have already suggested that this wasn't my first casual encounter. I dare not look up, not even when he wraps his fingers around mine tighter.

I feel the need to justify myself, to voice observations that only now are becoming apparent to me.

"But I've never asked someone to come back with me, not once put myself in a position where I couldn't just escape without a trace."

He sighs. I wish I knew exactly what he's thinking. It's a lot easier to say you want to be honest than to actually follow through.

In the silence that follows, my heart skips a few beats when he lets go and raises his hand. He guides my face upwards by my chin until I can't help but look at him.

"What made you approach me last night?" he asks.

There isn't a hint of humor in his eyes, no sign that he's only playing with me.

"Because I didn't think you would've, even if you had turned around at some point and noticed me looking at you... Was I wrong?"

"No, I guess I wouldn't have," he admits. "As it was, I barely knew what to do when you sat down next to me."

"I can't quite explain what happened. When I saw you, I just had to talk to you. Of course I hardly knew what to say."

"And I thought I was the awkward one." He smiles at me and caresses my cheek, making me forget just how tense I felt only seconds ago.

"And what makes you different from all the guys who are all too happy to get something quick and easy with no strings attached?" I ask. "Why want more?"

He pauses before answering, but does not take his eyes off me.

"The way you looked at me last night, actually the way you're still looking at me now... Like I'm someone worth seeing," he says. "That's a rare thing, something worth keeping and taking a risk on."

"You know, check out isn't until eleven..." I get up from the couch and take his hand again. "What do you say?"

"I'm sure we can find a way to pass the time."