Noah’s mouth twitched and then he laughed. It transformed him. Suddenly, his heavy face was alive, a knotted tree swaying in the breeze, an old steam train rushing through the countryside. He wasn’t handsome, but he wasbeautiful.
“You gonna bill me?” he asked. “For taking up your time?”
His face was still bright with laughter and his voice was different, too. Like an Oboe she’d once heard being played on a frosty London street. “I could put it in my Google Calendar under ‘exercise?’”
He grinned. “Not bad.”
She leaned across, instinctively wanting to kiss him. She held back just in time, a lump rising in her throat. Stupid thoughts. Stupid feelings. “Why don’t you call me Nix like everyone else?” she demanded.
“It’s too hard. You need something soft. Pretty.”
He said it so easily, like it was nothing. The silence swelled again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She had the feeling he was waiting, letting her decide what to do next. She thought of her questions, but she didn’t want to ask them. So what did she want? Her stomach growled and the idea of dinner rose. Maybe they could order food and eat under his gorgeous painting. She could drink the rest of the wine and they could talk about her dad and the studio and maybe even The Rangers. And, because she wasn’t trying to impress him and he never said anything about anything to anyone, she could suggest fried chicken. Almost childishly excited, she opened her mouth and a loud ringing filled the air.
Noah looked at the chest of drawers where a phone was vibrating brightly. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta…”
“Go ahead.”
He rose and picked it up. “You okay?”
A woman’s voice, high and panicky. Nicole couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she sounded upset. Noah was silent, listening intently, then after a few seconds he stood up. “Be there soon.”
He straightened his neck, letting the phone fall onto the bed. Nicole saw the word ‘Paula’ turn grey as the call disconnected. Her heart fell stupidly, embarrassingly far. “Who’s Paula?”
Noah stooped, picking up a pair of jeans. “My housemate. She needs my help with—another long story.” Noah rubbed his forehead. “Look, I wouldn’t normally do this but….”
Her heart sank. “You need me to leave?”
“No, you can stay if you want, but I have to go.”
“Oh, okay.” Nicole was amazed at how chirpy she sounded. “I’ll get dressed.”
“No rush. You can have a shower if you want?”
Ah yes, all the spit and the sex and general grossness of her body. She looked at her hands, willing herself not to cry or cover up. To hold on for as long as it took for him to leave.
Noah knelt on the bed. “We’ll talk soon.”
“Okay,” she said with all the fake brightness she could muster.
Noah’s lips pulled tight and he stood, picking a t-shirt off the floor. “The door locks from the inside. Let yourself out whenever you’re ready.”
And he left. Nicole listened to his footsteps.
Come back.Don’t let that be it.
His front door slammed, and she chewed the insides of her mouth trying not to cry. The shame hit her like a punch, deep and hard in her chest.
Slut.
She was such a slut. Her pussy twinged with a psychosomatic fear she’d almost forgotten.
You slept with a biker.A stranger. Maybe a cheater—who was that girl on the phone? He doesn’t care about you, he’s just used you. You barely checked the condom; he could have taken it off. He could have given you something.
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes but she refused to blink and let them spill. Her brain could do what it wanted to, but she wasn’t going to let herself regret this. It was just sex, followed by an awkward goodbye. This was how single people lived. This was how Noah operated.
“Get dressed,” she said aloud. “Get dressed and go get chicken on your own. This is not a big deal.”
It felt that way though. Like a big deal. She had the gnawing feeling she’d done something stupid. Not the sex, but the penetration. She’d let Noah in and she hadn’t meant to and the resulting helplessness was awful. She stood and flicked the bedroom light on and gasped. Four stunning paintings hung over his bed. They showed the moon in various stages of waxing and waning, reflected in a garbage strewn lake. The surrounds were subtly different in each; greener, then ruddier then splashed with snow, then covered in flowers. Animals crept in shadows, kangaroos and native mice and possums, and in the furthest, a feral cat. They were the seasons, she realised, the collision of man and nature. Looking at them hurt her chest. It stole her thoughts clean away from the sex she’d just had.