Attraction - a fraudulent marriage

16. anger

This is the revised version of Attraction

My wallet was empty, my hands were full, and the elevator smelled of Chinese. There was an edge to the spiciness which had me blinking every few seconds. The heat could become problematic if this continued. Breaking out in sweat during dinner was not flattering at all. Also, my pale skin liked to take on a red tinge if the chef had been overly enthusiastic with the chili.

I found myself in an awkward dilemma outside the apartment door. Was I supposed to knock? Should I use my key and simply get inside? Clutching the paper bags, the solution became obvious. Getting the key from my pocket would be all but impossible, so knocking it was.

Tom's footsteps sounded on the other side. The subtle announcement gave me those additional few seconds of preparation I desperately needed. Nothing was amiss. Tom was home, and that was completely normal and shouldn't affect me at all.

He wore a frown but remained attractive as hell. I'd almost forgotten. Fantasies didn't do him justice at all.

"Why are you knocking?"

I held out the bags. "I'm lazy."

The slight shake of his head was expected. "I'll pour us some beer." He took the paper bags and retreated to the kitchen, leaving me to get myself together. I'd never been so happy to untie laces, and it might have taken a few minutes extra than absolutely necessary despite my nimble fingers. Laces were tricky and slippery after all.

Tom had poured two beers when I entered the kitchen. With dismay, I realized that he'd cleaned up after me. He wasn't supposed to be home tonight, and I hadn't exactly been neat. It happened every time I fell too far.

Based on the tense air around him, I had a feeling he wasn't all that happy with me. "Sorry for the mess. I didn't think you'd be home."

I'd never seen his lips so thin.

"What happened with my closet?" The question unraveled everything all at once, and he didn't even have the courtesy to look me in the eye.

"You mean that I found a place for my clothes? I thought I was supposed to live here. Or perhaps that's the problem? You know, I didn't choose to live here either." I backed one step, knowing full well that I'd gone too far. I wasn't myself, and this night had thrown me for a loop so grand that I'd lost control. Lost it when I least of all should. Fuck.

"Fine." He still didn't look at me.

I tried. I fought to keep myself firm on the ground, but I was boiling. "Fine? What's that supposed to mean? You said to make myself at home. Do you even know how difficult that is?"

He finally looked at me. "You think it's easy to let anyone stay here? I've lived alone for twelve years. You barge into my life like you have every right to it. I come home and you've rearranged my clothes after one week living here."

His anger was somehow liberating. It meant I could shout it all out. Release all those pent up emotions and get rid of it all. Only, he wasn't the right person to receive it. I barely knew him. I wanted to know him—I wanted to understand every facet, every subtle gesture, every intonation.

I let out a sigh, utterly repulsed by my behavior. "Sorry. Think I've gone too long without a good fuck." I hadn't meant to say that out loud, but I realized too late.

Tom faced me, his eyes narrowed. "If you want to fuck that desperately, I'm not going to stop you. Go out, have your fun."

I gripped the counter behind me, unsure how the hell we'd come to this. I'd been happy to hear that he was back, but an angry exchange after a few days apart...I could have lived without that.