I’ve never regretted buying a king-sized bed as much as I did in that moment.
After last night with Nicole, things had been in another category all of its own. And I’m not just talking about the sex. That had been nothing short of incredible…and just in case we weren’t certain, we’d made sure to repeat the entire act several more times.
Final result: worth it.
Worth it a fucking lot.
But it’s now just past eight o’clock in the morning, and Nicole is bunched up in the covers in the spot farthest away from me on the bed. Like, I’m on the left and they are on the right and there is a valley of emptiness between us.
How the hell did that happen?
It didn’t seem like Nicole had awoken yet, so I moved to get closer to them but the moment I did, they roused.
“Hey.” They pulled the covers around their naked body tightly, as if trying to hide themselves.
I immediately felt weird. I’d seen every inch of Nicole last night, but that move alone had felt like…remorse?
“I, uh…” Nicole cleared their throat. “I have to get to work soon. It’s, um, it’s busy on weekends, you know? Plus, with literally nothing in my bank account, I have to work every moment possible.”
“Of course.” I nodded my head like I understood, letting my arm fall on the pillow as if I’d never been planning to wrap it around them and pull them in closer. “I’m sure weekends are when most people want appointments since they aren’t at work.”
“Yeah. Not everyone works a nine to five,” they added, now sliding out of the bed and taking one of the throw blankets with them to cover their body. “It’s hard for those of us without a trust fund.”
I blinked, taking a beat. What the fuck?
We had never spoken to each other that way. There’d never been a moment when Nicole had made a point to emphasize the difference between my background and theirs. Yes, I knew it was there and Nicole certainly knew as well. I wasn’t stupid and neither of us were blind. My mother had put things in place before she died to make sure her children would always be okay, and then with the success of my father’s business and bringing me on board…yeah, money wasn’t something I’d have to worry about anytime soon.
But they’d never thrown it in my face like that before.
“Uhm, well…yeah, I know.” My words stumbled out of me as undiplomatically as possible. “I was just thinking it would be nice if we could grab some breakfast together. After last night, I’ve definitely worked up an appetite.”
Nicole was already sliding their clothes back on as discreetly as possible, as if I hadn’t already seen them naked. “I’ll grab something on the way to work. I’m sure you can find something to eat here, right?”
“Sure.” I mean, yeah, I had a fridge like every other person over college-aged in the Goddamn country. Seriously, what the fuck is happening right now?
“I’m going to head out, but uh…let me know if you find out anything about my account.” Nicole was pulling their hair up into a messy bun and glancing toward my bedroom door like the exit was going to save them.
I didn’t try to keep them from leaving. “I’ll catch you later, then.”
They didn’t even look at me as they nodded, sliding their phone into their pocket and making their way out. “I’ll text you later.”
And with that, Nicole was gone. I heard my apartment door close quietly a few moments later, and there was a sinking feeling in my chest I hadn’t felt before.
My phone pinged from the nightstand, and I rolled over to check it. I needed the distraction in that moment, and if that meant working on a Sunday, then I was absolutely on board.
We found her.
The text message made me sit up quickly. I swiped across the screen and brought it to the front, quickly typing back a response to the colleague who I’d been communicating with about Nicole’s identity theft issue.
Her?
Three dots in a text bubble appeared before his response pinged through. Have they mentioned anything about trouble with a coworker previously?
Not that I’ve heard. Nicole is an independent contractor.
At least, that’s what I’d thought. Was I wrong? She’d been doing her own work as an esthetician-in-training for a while, and I was pretty sure that there wasn’t a specific boss or coworker she interacted with. I mean, aside from Kim. But that couldn’t be who he was talking about because I’d let that woman rip the hair off my taint.
Looks to be a woman named Kim, works in the same business that she does. It would make sense that their paths have crossed somehow.
My stomach sank as I sent a quick response back to clarify. Kim from Kim’s Bare Limbs? The esthetician? Nicole is training under her.
Ding, ding, ding, he responded back within seconds. Sounds like we found our guy.
I thought of the way Nicole had just run out of here, like they couldn’t get away from me fast enough. There weren’t a lot of people that Nicole trusted, and I knew that I had solidly taken one of those spots, but I also knew that Kim had as well.
Telling Nicole about this was not going to be easy.
You’re sure? I texted back, but he responded quickly with screenshots and proof that was pretty impossible to deny. Kim was Nicole’s mentor, and she’d stolen her identity as well as her entire bank account.
And, damn it, I’d let that conniving woman touch my balls.
I opened a blank text message and typed Nicole’s number at the top, beginning a text to try and explain what had just come to light.
But I couldn’t hit send.
I tossed the phone down on my bedspread instead and got up, in search of something to eat. Maybe it would feel easier to rock their world on a full stomach.
Spoiler alert—two bagels later and a tall glass of orange juice, none of it felt easier.
Hey.
I sent the message out to Nicole, letting it linger in the universe with an unspoken hope that maybe they wouldn’t see it. Maybe they wouldn’t respond, and I wouldn’t have to crush a relationship in their life that means a lot. They were so selective on those, it felt terrible to take one away.
But what other choice did I have?
Got to work fine. Thanks for checking in!
Nicole’s response was quick and abrupt, and I hadn’t even asked about whether or not they’d gotten to work. I didn’t regret a thing about last night, but the way Nicole was talking to me now almost made me consider it. Had I ruined our friendship? Had one night of impulse torn down what half a decade of friendship had built?
I need to talk to you.
I knew my response was cryptic, but how else was I supposed to handle this? There was no playbook for how to break the news and somehow keep a friendship—or maybe more—intact.
I’m pretty busy with work today.
I shook my head and typed a response. Are you staying here again tonight?
The three dots appeared again, but no response came to fruition for several minutes. Fuck it, I wasn’t about to let this die out.
Nicole, you need to come back here after work. We need to talk. I’ve got information about the entire incident.
I knew that was low, throwing in the promise of information about the identity theft situation. Of course, Nicole would want that information, and of course I could have just texted it to them. But also, could I? It felt like something I needed to say in person. It felt like something I needed to watch them process and hold their hand while they did.
Several unanswered minutes went by before a quick response pinged through.
Ok.
Nicole was coming back, and I was ready to stop playing games. I was going to tell them what Kim had done, and I was going to tell them the truth about last night and right now. That this hadn’t been just a one-off. This hadn’t just been a moment of vulnerability where two friends had tangled in the sheets as a way to avoid everything that they were actually feeling.
If there was one thing that had been solidified for me last night, it was the fact that I didn’t just want to be Nicole’s best friend. I wanted to be their lover, and I didn’t care what that fucking meant. I didn’t care how my family might react to me being in a gender fluid relationship or that my sexuality might not be as heterosexual as I’d once assumed. I didn’t even care that my friends and coworkers who all currently saw me as some sort of muscle-bound alpha male would undoubtedly be surprised to hear that I wasn’t the womanizing player that it was easy to paint me as.
And maybe I’d painted myself that way, too. Maybe I’d been as unfair as I expected others to be.
Maybe I was ready to change that.