Until December (Until Her/Him #8)(3)
With my heart feeling suddenly heavy inside my chest, I carefully and quietly get up. I’m thankfully still fully clothed, wearing my dress from last night, except my shoes. Shoes Gareth rid me of as I lay on his bed. His bed that he curled himself around me in moments later, ordering me gruffly to go to sleep instead of what I really wanted to do and could tell he did too, judging by his hard-on I felt lying heavy between us.
My eyes slide closed. I can’t think about his sweet gesture right now. Right now, I need to get out of here before I do something stupid, like climb back into bed with him, or worse, go to his kitchen to make him breakfast. As quietly as I can, I pick up my shoes and purse from the floor and move toward the door. It’s only a couple steps, but it feels like it takes forever to finally grasp the silver handle.
After I turn the knob, I look over my shoulder to make sure the man in the bed behind me is still asleep as the door creaks open. Seeing he’s just as I left him—his head on his pillow, his strong features relaxed, and his big strong body shut down—I take a second to memorize every detail, hoping it will be enough to get me through the rest of my boring life.
Shutting the door behind me, I walk down a short hallway and stop suddenly just inside the living room that is open to the kitchen. I didn’t have time to look around last night. The moment Gareth let us inside, he kissed me and didn’t stop until we were in his room. Taking it all in now, I’m surprised. The place looks like a home, not a bachelor pad. It’s gorgeous, bright, and updated, with black cabinets in the kitchen and speckled granite on the counters. The furniture in the living room is worn from use, but there are pictures hanging on the walls—some art and some family photos in well-chosen frames. Knickknacks and books are on the built-in shelves, and boy paraphernalia from video games to sports equipment is scattered across the room.
I want to examine the space and photos for clues about Gareth’s life, but I don’t allow myself the opportunity. I rush to the front door, open it, and step outside. I look around to try to figure out where I am, and my stomach drops to my toes. Across the street is Harmony’s car parked in front of her house, with her husband’s bike parked next to it. Gareth… My eyes close briefly. I can’t believe he is the single dad Harmony mentioned to me and the girls after one of his sons hit a baseball into her car.
Hoping my cousin and her man are still asleep in their bed with no way of seeing me, I put on my shoes and move down the porch to the sidewalk. I hurry to the end of the block and send for an Uber to pick me up. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sigh. I look ridiculous waiting in the chilly morning air, wearing my makeup, dress, and heels from last night. My only saving grace is that it’s early and no one seems to be awake yet.
I watch the street for the Nissan that’s supposed to pick me up, and frown when it turns the corner with rap music blaring from the interior. When the car stops at the edge of the sidewalk before me, I look through the passenger window at the white kid wearing a backward baseball cap. He looks no older than sixteen, and I wonder if he should even be behind the wheel.
The window goes down but the music doesn’t. It just gets louder as it escapes the confines of the car. “December?”
“Yes.”
“I’m your ride,” he says before rolling up the window without another word.
I check the app on my phone to confirm he is in fact my ride, then open the back door and get in.
“Yo,” he greets me over his shoulder, smiling as I put on my seat belt. “Good night?”
“Yeah.” I drop my eyes to my phone and ignore the missed calls and texts from April, scanning Instagram so I won’t be forced into an awkward conversation. Not that the kid could hear me over the music, even if I wanted to talk. Halfway to my apartment, the battery dies on my phone, but I still keep my eyes on the black screen until I’m home.
Once I’m inside my apartment, I go right to the kitchen and set out food for Melbourne, my invisible cat. He’s not really invisible, but he might as well be. I never see him except when he’s in need of food or attention—the latter very rare.
After I’m done, I walk to my bedroom and strip out of my dress. I brush my teeth as the shower warms up, then step in and let the hot water run over me. I try not to think about Gareth, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s realized I’m gone, and then I think about what his reaction might have been when he woke up alone.
Maybe he didn’t care that a woman snuck out on him. But in my heart, I want to believe he did.
Once I’ve washed my hair, conditioned it, and have scrubbed myself from head to toe, I get out and dry off. I wrap myself in my robe then go to the kitchen and make myself a single cup of coffee and some toast. I sit on one of the two barstools at the makeshift island in my kitchen and eat in silence before I go back to my room and put on my favorite sweats and hoodie.
Relaxing on my couch a couple of hours later with a new book, a bag of Cheetos, and a Diet Coke, I groan when my cell phone rings from my bedroom where I plugged it in to charge. I reluctantly get up to answer it then debate taking the call when I see it’s April. I must think too long, because the ringing ends, and a notification for a missed call lights up the screen, right before the ringing starts back up again.
Knowing she won’t give up, I slide my finger across the screen, and with a sigh, I put the phone to my ear. “Hey.”