Push. Claire Wallis

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СКАЧАТЬ outside his door to see if I can hear what they say, but then I decide I’d rather not, just in case it isn’t very flattering. I feel pretty damned convinced that David enjoyed that as much as I did, and I don’t want to hear otherwise. I walk my confident self back down the stairs and into my apartment.

      It’s only eleven, and because of my impromptu nap this afternoon, I’m not the least bit tired. I take a long shower, washing David off my skin, and get dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. I spend the rest of the evening camped out on the couch watching reruns of South Park and drinking the rest of the mug wine. I think I occasionally hear someone going down the steps and out the front door, but I’m not about to peek out the window and see. I don’t want David to know I’m still thinking about him.

      * * *

      The sex, wine and reruns cause me to sleep in way later than I had planned. I haven’t checked anything off my weekend to-do list yet, unless you count the few boxes I unpacked yesterday before Michael showed up. After eating a breakfast bar, I set to the task of unpacking the rest of the boxes. When I am done, the only ones remaining are those from Michael—which I shove to the back of my closet and try to forget—and the ones containing the kitchen stuff that I can’t unpack until David is finished.

      I spend the rest of my Sunday doing the mundane. Since I can now walk on the kitchen floor, I make a quick trip to the grocery store for some food, beer and more wine, and make myself a late lunch as soon as I return. Part of me was hoping to run into David while I was out, but then I recalled his note saying that he had plans for the day. When I finish washing my lunch dishes, my phone buzzes. It’s him.

      

      

      Hi.

      

      

      Hi back.

      

      

      What r u doing?

      

      

      Getting my shit together.

      

      

      Shit?

      

      

      Unpacking and grocery store. Going to hang pictures now.

      

      

      Need my tool belt?

      

      

      He is flirting again. I want to be coy, but...

      

      

      U left it here yesterday. I’m wearing it right now.

      

      

      Is that so?

      

      

      Yep. And it looks damn fine on me, too.

      

      

      I’ll bet it does.

      

      

      Where r u?

      

      

      Boating with the boys.

      

      

      Any girls?

      

      

      Do I really want to know the answer to that?

      

      

      None wearing a tool belt.

      

      

      So what r they wearing then?

      

      

      Nothing that matters to me.

      

      

      What the hell does that mean? That he isn’t looking at what they are wearing because he doesn’t give a damn, or that they aren’t wearing anything at all?

      

      

      Define nothing.

      

      

      It means that it doesn’t matter what they r wearing, or not wearing, as the case may b.

      

      

      Because...?

      

      

      Because whatever it is, it isn’t u in those blue panties.

      

      

      U aren’t going to let any of those girls sit on your lap r u?

      

      

      No, Emma. I am not.

      

      

      Because I will kick your fucking ass if u do.

      

      

      I know.

      

      

      I slide my phone closed and put it back in my pocket. I can’t believe it, but the thought of David on some boat with a bunch of barely dressed women makes my skin sear. Why? I don’t understand how I can be so jealous when we only spent one night together. And shit, it wasn’t even a night. СКАЧАТЬ