I wondered, staring at the dimly lit ceiling, the lamp casting dancing shadows. What if he hadn't moved, hadn't broken the spell? Would I have kissed him?
My finger traced my lips, feeling their slight roughness. What would his kiss feel like against mine? Gentle, like a breeze, or intense, consuming me?
Closing my eyes, I tried to shake the thought away. His cologne lingered, mixing with the night breeze through the window.
My thoughts twisted, consumed by him, spiraling out of control. His touch still vibrated against my skin, warming me.
I'm not easily swayed, yet here I am, losing myself to someone who seems to control me. Control was my anchor, but Nick shattered that illusion.
I've learned not to trust men's intentions. Until Nick.
I don't know why, but around him, I lose myself. His presence is intoxicating, making me forget worries and live in the moment.
But like a drug, it's addictive. Yesterday shouldn't have happened. Nick shouldn't have seen me vulnerable, shouldn't have massaged my neck, shouldn't have let me feel more than a simple touch.
Despite enjoying it, shame and embarrassment linger. He's always on my mind, despite efforts to hide it.
What would kissing him be like?
His ministrations and the magic he performed on me had clouded my senses. Despite knowing he was only helping, I couldn't ignore the fervor raging through my body.
I craved more. More of his touch. When I had blissfully opened my closed eyes, I had found him staring back with an intensity I'd never seen. His dark, hooded eyes seemed even darker, causing me to hold my breath.
His face was so close, his lips—so tantalizingly close to mine. A single movement and I could feel him, satisfy this thirst pulsing within me. My heart raced. Just one move, and—
"Does your neck feel better?" His question was like a slap, snapping me out of the trance and now back to the presence. I groaned, shifting onto my bed, burying my frustration in the pillow and thrashing my legs.
Never had I felt so frustrated. He must have known my thoughts, how turned on I was. So why—
I groaned again, hating my lack of control, frustrated with myself for letting emotions take over.
Scoffing, I sat up, crossing my arms, trying to make sense of how I ended up here.
Why didn't he just kiss me, huh? It's not like I'm desperate for it, but after seducing me like that, he could have at least done something!
I was angry and confused, unsure how to process my feelings. I hadn't started any of this, yet here I was, right in the middle of it. He kept playing the hero, saving the damsel in distress, then seducing me.
Why did he have to whisper so close to my ear when he could just speak normally?
This confusion was the worst. The conflicting thoughts and emotions overwhelmed me, leaving me feeling out of control.
It always left me feeling helpless because I couldn't pinpoint exactly what I was feeling or why. Was it right to feel this way about someone I'd just met?
Fed up, I grabbed my pillow and threw it against the door. In a fit of rage, I yelled loudly, frustrated with everything, panting and heaving.
Once I calmed down enough, I lay back on the bed, feeling the weight of my emotions slowly lift.
"I'm definitely losing my mind," I muttered, chuckling as I shook my head. Nick was innocent in all of this, yet I'd made him out to be the villain just to ease my own discomfort.
"I'm the problem. I get attached too quickly, and the only way to protect myself is to avoid him. I've welcomed him to the neighborhood enough; he'll manage fine without me," I reasoned aloud.
"Is everything okay, Mandy?" Carrie's voice broke into my thoughts. I sat down, surprised to see her already dressed for a run, my pillow in her hands.
"What brings you here?" I asked, puzzled by her presence in my room.
"I heard some noise and you yelling," she replied, causing me to inwardly curse. I'd forgotten I woke up early again, unconsciously. I managed a half-hearted smile. "I'm fine, just upset I got up so early."
"Oh," Carrie nodded, approaching my bed and sitting down.
"Tanya told me you went to interview Silvia at the Faculty of Technology and..."
"And he was there," I finished her sentence, knowing they'd found out from the texts and missed calls they bombarded me with yesterday.
After the tense moment at Nick's house, I headed home, and promptly got into bed to avoid their questioning.
"I'm fine," I reassured Carrie with a smile. "It's been three years, and I refuse to let him affect me again."
"Then why did Tanya say you left in a hurry, looking pale?" Carrie pressed, clearly unconvinced.
"Even though I'm over him, his arrogant and pompous demeanor still makes me nauseous every time I see him," I admitted, making a face that caused Carrie to chuckle. "As for looking pale, some rude guy bumped into me so hard I pulled a neck muscle."
"What?" Carrie exclaimed, taken aback. "Are you serious?"
"It's frightening and painful," I explained, remembering the sensation vividly. "It felt like any sudden movement would snap my muscle."
"Are you okay now? Does it still hurt?" Carrie asked, reaching out to gently touch my neck. Despite still feeling some lingering pain, I assured her it had mostly subsided, thanks to swimming.
"Thank goodness Nick was there to administer first aid," I added, blushing as memories of his tender care flashed through my mind.
Carrie interrupted my thoughts with a teasing "Eeeh."
"...Nick again," she continued, raising an eyebrow. "Why does he always show up when you need him?"
"I don't know," I replied skeptically. "Maybe it's just coincidence."
"I sense something in the air. Can you feel it?" Carrie persisted, her tone taking on a mysterious edge.
"It's called destiny," she whispered, as if it were a foregone conclusion.
"So I guess I didn't see it wrong," Carrie muttered while frowning as if she were thinking deeply. Of course Carrie would say that.
"So I guess I didn't imagine it," Carrie muttered, her brow furrowing as if lost in thought.
"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled by her cryptic statement.
"I saw him yesterday on campus. I thought I was seeing things because it was just for a moment," Carrie explained.
"That's strange. Why would he be looking for a barbershop at the university?" I mused aloud, finding it odd.
"Jiangalie, you're already thinking about him. How's it going? Have you guys kissed or made out yet?" Carrie teased, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.
"Of course not. But we almost—" I began, but Carrie cut me off with an excited squeal, almost screaming.
"Shh, keep it down," I pleaded, covering her mouth. "You'll wake up Lizzy," I added, nodding towards the closed door.
"Oops, sorry. What do you mean by 'almost'? Why didn't you tell us?" Carrie continued eagerly. "You've been so secretive since Nick came into the picture. I thought we told each other everything."
"I'm sorry for not keeping you updated. It's just..." I sighed heavily, feeling guilty for keeping things from them. We've always shared everything, no matter how small.
Taking a deep breath, I recounted everything that happened the previous day to Carrie, watching as her shock turned into disbelief. Her squeals of excitement surprised me, but I was distracted by a noise from her phone that I hadn't noticed before.
Snatching the phone from her hand, I realized Lizzy had been on the call the whole time.
"What were you saying?" I hissed at Carrie and Lizzy, who peeked in sheepishly from the doorway.
"How long have you been awake and listening?" I asked, amused by Lizzy's sneaky behavior.
"Since Carrie came into your room," Lizzy admitted, stepping closer tentatively.
"Why didn't you come in?"
"You know I'm terrible at comforting people. I was afraid I'd say something to upset you," Lizzy explained, patting Carrie's leg not so gently, earning a groan and a glare from Carrie.
"Why didn't you just kiss the guy next door? You had the chance and the mood was right, so why not go for it?" Lizzy interjected bluntly, as expected of her.
"I didn't tell her," I mumbled, hiding my face in embarrassment.
"The embarrassment isn't yours to bear. He should be the one embarrassed, right, Carrie?" Lizzy chimed in, taking my hands away from my face. Carrie nodded in agreement.
"It's his loss for not taking the chance when you were clearly interested," Carrie added. Their support was comforting, though Carrie's words made me pause.
"What do you mean by 'clearly interested'?" I narrowed my eyes at their amused expressions. Chuckling softly, Carrie replied, "Not like that," but her avoiding gaze told me otherwise.
"I asked Lizzy, turning to face her. "Do you feel the same way?" Lizzy cleared her throat and pretended to cough before nodding. Exasperated that even Lizzy shared the same thoughts, I sighed in frustration.
"Please explain why you two think that," I demanded, glaring at them expectantly.
"Well, technically, ever since Nick moved in, you've been seeking him out more than he's sought you," Carrie explained.
"And it's written all over your face that you're attracted to him," Lizzy added, making me blush and unsure of how to respond.
"But he's interested in me too, right?" I pressed, my heart racing with anticipation.
"Well, he flirts with you, but I'm not entirely sure," Lizzy said, shrugging, dashing my hopes. Lizzy could have at least pretended he was interested; she's the worst at comforting others.
"I'm sure he is. He's been there for you," Carrie reassured me, trying to lift my spirits. I wanted to believe her, but the disappointment still settled in.
"There's only one way to find out," Lizzy interjected abruptly, catching our attention. "Stop giving him so much attention—tone it down. Treat him like any other neighbor and see if he comes after you. Then we'll know for sure." Carrie and I exchanged knowing looks, both of us agreeing it was worth a try.
But how long could I keep it up? I wondered.
"Anyway, what about you and that pastor guy?" I redirected the conversation away from my own insecurities.
"Oh, um, about that..." Carrie blushed, piquing our curiosity. We leaned in eagerly, wanting to hear more.
"Oh my! When he said my name, his voice was so deep and smooth. He was like, 'Nice to meet you, Carriander,'" she recounted, imitating a deep voice at the end. Lizzy and I exchanged incredulous glances.
"Carriander?" Lizzy echoed, her laughter filling the room. "Is that even a thing?"
Carrie shrugged nonchalantly, grinning broadly. "I have no idea, and I don't care. It's even better that the name doesn't exist. It must mean I'm special to him, right?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement and curiosity, seeking validation from us.
This was a side of Carrie we rarely saw—the girl who never let a guy get to her. Yet here she was, enchanted by a unique nickname that hinted at a deeper connection.
"Tell us more about this guy," I urged, intrigued as we gathered on my bed. Carrie launched into her story, and for that moment, the outside world faded away.
Dave was his name, and as Carrie spoke, Nick's presence faded from my mind, Lizzy's movies became distant, and Carrie's morning run was forgotten.
February 4th became a day dedicated to friendship, to shared secrets, and to laughter echoing through my room. It was a day for us girls, a precious moment where nothing else mattered but the bond we shared.