The Next Best Thing: Part II

Five

Eoin knocked softly on the door, poking his head into the room to check if I was up. "I was beginning to think you had left me unceremoniously," he said, standing at the door.

"I'm avoiding any more awkward confrontations involving you semi-naked. I just need to rest," I replied with a yawn.

"Why? Afraid you won't be able to take your eyes off of me?"

I gave him a blank stare and slowly shook my head, to which he laughed. "I am making a fool of myself, aren't I?"

"Yes. Yes, you are," I said with an arch of my eyebrows. "I may be the worst person to be flirting with right now," I explained, sitting up on the bed. "But you can come in. I won't attack, I promise."

He found a spot by a window overlooking a shaded street with a nicer view of the cityscape than his room, and looked out into the city, lost in his thoughts.

"Were you in love with him?"

"Yes, I was. I still am," I answered truthfully. I had been waiting for this, my opening up to him, explaining why he had been forced to babysit a grown woman.

"I'm sorry Zoe," he said sympathetically. "Do you wanna grab food?"

"Don't you want to know what happened?"

"Only when you want to tell me, when you're ready. Right now, we have to get dinner. I don't have any groceries."

I had slept through yet another day, too lazy to get out of bed and out of my misery. I was getting used to wallowing in tear stained sheets, much more comfortable sad than trying to be happy.

I suggested Chinese takeout or anything that could be delivered to his apartment without me leaving my room.

"No, we're getting you out of the house," he replied.

I protested, fluttering my eyebrows and pouting at him, using his feelings for me against him.

He threatened to carry me again if I refused more so I had to give up. I was indulging him by letting him hold me, and I didn't need to turn pink when he coaxed me to do his will, his last resort.

I changed into a long dress to leave a lot to the imagination and I hopped down the stairs, simultaneously trying to buckle my sandals. Anyone would attest that this was a very dangerous, considering that I could have easily fallen off the side of the staircase and cracked my skull. I would bleed to death without ever knowing if Mitchell and I would move past us.

I later realised that I was on a suicide mission, subconsciously endangering myself to dull the pain. I would have liked to forget, just for once, how my life had been torn apart.

Eoin was waiting for me patiently at the bottom of the stairs, his car keys in his hands and his phone in the other. He appeared to be checking his emails or something pertaining to his entrepreneur status; he was playing a game, the sweet man child.

I caught him trying to attack some mammals with a wicked looking vegetable of some sort, his brows furrowed in concentration and his hair tumbling over his face. He was just too preoccupied to notice or even care.

I watched him in an amused silence, standing at the arched doorway leading into the kitchen. I cleared my throat after I realised he had found something else to fixate on, deeming me fit to function without his constant worrying.

"I could still order take-out. I'm game if you are. Please just let me order in?"

He looked like I'd caught him in my favourite lingerie with that look, blushing and quickly putting his phone away. He simply smiled and pulled me along into the car spilling into the building's foyer.

On our way down, we caught a lovely couple who lived in the apartment building as well, going out for a much needed date night.

"When you two get married my dear, you'll understand why it's such a special night for us. Our busy schedules and social lives never allowed us for any unnecessary frivolousness. As we got older, we realised that we needed to cherish our love and make time for each other," the charming, plump wife explained, introducing herself as Lydia Powell.

Her husband Bradley added,  "Also remember to love each other in every way possible before you get too old like me and can no longer perform."

His wife nudged him in embarrassment, laughing at his brazen language and I reassured her it was okay. "He's very excitable, you see," she explained with an amused smile.

She was an ageless beauty, her hair having retained its raven tint and her vibrant green eyes quite striking. Bradley Powell was still a handsome man, his formerly blonde hair now well-kept white locks and his smile attracting unwarranted attention.

They bid us a good evening, leaving for dinner in a cherry red vintage Porsche parked a few spots down from Eoin's Range Rover.

"Join us for dinner one of these nights. We love getting acquainted with our neighbours, especially the young ones," Lydia Powell politely invited us.

"The nest has been empty for quite a while so my wife craves the company of the younger folk." Her husband planted an affectionate kiss on her forehead to which she squeezed his hand.

Eoin took them up on their offer, promising to stop by one night armed with some Irish whiskey for Mr. Powell. We waved them off and Eoin turned to me, a sheepish grin on his face.

"They think we're a couple. It means I'm doing something right," he said, opening the door for me.

"Don't flatter yourself, Eoin. It's bad enough you saw me naked yesterday," I replied with a frown.

"To my defence, you were in my shower and you were making so much noise. I barely saw anything because I respect you that much. I want to see you naked because you want me to."

I slapped his arm in annoyance. He really wanted to get into my pants, I soon realised. Unlucky for him, that part of me still belonged to somebody else.