I didn’t even hesitate.

When his arms opened, inviting me into his embrace, I went, stretching out above him, my body flush against his. He was warm and firm beneath me, and as our lips met I could feel our hearts galloping madly toward each other, as if they were driven by force.

We kissed with all the passion we’d been holding back. With hands wandering over clothing and then underneath. With tongues that sought to know the secrets of each other’s mouths—the taste, the texture, the shape. With bodies that began to move, to writhe and flex, as our patience grew thin. Clothing was discarded. My sweater and bra. His T-shirt and Henley. My leggings. His jeans. My panties, already damp with desire. By then we were desperate for one another, and frantically hoping we wouldn’t wake the baby.

“Give me ten seconds,” he whispered between kisses.

I sat up and watched him hurry through the dark into the downstairs bathroom, returning a moment later already ripping the condom wrapper off. When he got close enough, I put my hands on his boxer briefs and pulled them down. His erection, tall and thick, sprang free. “Let me,” I said. He handed me the condom and I rolled it on. My stomach was full of butterflies flying frantically in every direction.

“Lie back.” He took me by the shoulders and guided me down, stepping free from his underwear and lowering his head between my thighs. I braced myself for the first, shocking sweep of his tongue, but he paused first. “Quiet this time, Calamity. I don’t want any interruptions.”

I nodded, and while I can’t say I was quiet exactly—he was just so good with his tongue—I was at least less noisy. As I came down from the high, breathing hard, my body loose and liquid, we both listened.

Silence.

“Thank God,” Nate said, positioning himself above me, the tip of his cock teasing my warm, wet center. But as he slid inside, he stifled his own loud groan. “Fuck. I don’t know if I can be quiet.”

I couldn’t do anything—not moan, not sigh, not whisper—I couldn’t even breathe as he buried himself slowly and deeply within me, stretching my body to fit his.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

My fingernails dug into his shoulders.

“I’ll go slow.” He began to move in deep, gentle, undulating rolls that made his entire body seem to ripple over mine, like swells in the middle of the ocean.

Gradually, the discomfort subsided and I slid my palms down his back, opened my thighs even wider, answered the rhythm of his hips with my own.

I buried my face in his neck and inhaled, the masculine scent of him driving me higher. I swirled my tongue at the base of his throat, needing to taste his skin. He moaned again, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Nate,” I whispered, wanting to feel his name in my mouth.

“Oh, God.” He propped himself up on his hands above my shoulders and our eyes locked. “You need to come again for me now.” His hips moved faster, the base of his cock rubbing my clit in quick, short strokes, the friction creating a fresh hum in my lower body.

But I’d never come twice during sex before—ever. “I don’t know if I can,” I fretted, worried I was letting him down. “I’ve never—”

“You’ve never been with me before. Come on. Let go. Let me take you there.” His voice, deep and determined, quiet but intense, compelled my body to obey, as if it didn’t give a fuck what my mind had to say about it, this was happening.

“That’s it,” he whispered as my eyes fluttered closed and the muscles in my body went stiff, as if every function and feeling other than pleasure was put on hold, even breathing. “Yes. Come for me. Let me feel it…” He fucked me harder and faster, chasing his own release as he moved through mine.

And then I was lost to it, to a world that was only the two of us. To the sound of his breath and the smell of his skin and the throb of his body inside me. To the fiery stars behind my eyes, to the heat coming off of our bodies. To the notion that finally, finally, I was the one in his arms. I was the one he wanted. I was the one he adored.

I was still floating in a sea of bliss when I felt his lips on my forehead. My eyes opened. “Did we wake her?”

“I don’t know. My heart is pounding too loud to hear anything but you.”

“Mine too.” I moved my hands into the valley of his lower back, pressing my palms to his skin. Suddenly I was sad I hadn’t really gotten to see him naked. Next time.

Wait, would there be a next time? What was this? It had happened so fast, I hadn’t really had a chance to think. Hadn’t I been about to leave? I was pretty sure I had been, and then I’d heard those two little words that had plunged straight into my heart.

Come here.

And he hadn’t said it playfully or facetiously. It wasn’t a game. He’d just told me we’d been right to stop last night, and that I should go…

But he’d wanted me to stay.

Hearing him say that meant everything. It was the missing piece from last night. This was no momentary lapse in sanity. This was no oops. It didn’t just happen. We’d talked about it. We’d tried to resist it. We’d failed.

But it didn’t feel like a mistake, or an end to our friendship. It felt like a beginning. Of what, I wasn’t sure. I only knew that I didn’t want to walk away.

“Nate?”

“Hmm?” His lips were still resting on my head.

“Are we still friends?”

“I hope so.”

“Me too.”

“Then it’s settled.” He lifted himself from me. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

While he was in the bathroom, I found my underwear and bra on the floor and put them on. I was pulling up my leggings when he came out, and I wished I could tell him not to get dressed so I could get my fill of his naked body, but I bit my tongue. It was magnificent, though. Even in the dark, I could see the sculpted curves of his arms, the lines on his stomach, the muscle tone in his legs. He threw on his underwear and jeans while I tugged my sweater over my head. Then he sat on the couch again. “I can’t believe she’s not up. It’s a miracle.”

“You should have been sleeping.” I smoothed my hair and looked around for my shoes.

“Fuck sleeping. Hey. Come here for a second.” He reached out and took my hand, pulling me onto his lap. “Are we okay?”

“Yes,” I said, and I meant it. “I mean, I don’t really know what we’re doing, but I’m okay with that.”

He nodded. “What made you come over tonight?”

“Truth? I just wanted to be with you. I’d been thinking of you all day.”

“Same.” He wrapped his arms around me. “When you called and said you were cooking spaghetti and meatballs, I was dying to ask you to come over with some.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He exhaled. “Because I’d promised myself I wouldn’t call you today. I wanted to prove that I could get through one fucking day without your help. And…and I wasn’t—I’m not—comfortable feeling like I need someone.”

“That’s silly. Everyone needs someone sometimes.”

“Not me. Not until now.”

My toes tingled, I was so happy. “It’s okay. I’ll keep it a secret.”

He laughed a little. “Thanks. Anyway, when you showed up with food and that smile and two helping hands and adult conversation…I’d never been so glad to see anyone, ever. And I’m not sorry about what we did.”

“Good. Me either.”

“But I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“About disappointing you. I can’t…be what you need. I’m already overwhelmed trying to be what Paisley needs.”

“But you know what’s crazy? Somehow, that is exactly what I need—to see you, in all your alpha male I-don’t-show-my-feelings glory, stepping into the role of father and showing you care. You’re reaffirming my faith in the male species, Nate.” I patted him on the back, and he laughed. “And you’re good to me,” I went on. “I feel good when I’m with you. I don’t care what we call this. You don’t have to be my boyfriend. And I don’t need any promises, other than that you’ll keep talking to me like this. Openly and honestly.”

“I’ll try.” Exhaling, he rested his forehead on mine. “I don’t want to fuck up, but I’m not good at this. Be patient with me?”

“Of course.” I started to get up, and Nate held me in place.

Then he took my head in his hands and planted a kiss on my lips. Then another. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I got to my feet. “Now get some sleep. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He stood too. “Oh, God. That reminds me. I hate to even ask, but is there any way you could watch her for a couple hours in the morning? I have to be at the office to hand off some files, and I’m trying to avoid having to bring her.”

“Sure, no problem. Will you be back by noon? I have to be at Coco’s around twelve-thirty.”

“Definitely.”

“What time in the morning?” I asked, stifling a yawn as I pulled on my Uggs.

He cringed. “I hate to say it, because it’s so late now, but eight?”

“I’ll be here.”

He walked me to the door, opened it up, and kissed me one last time. “You’re the best.”

I shrugged. “It’s the least I can do after you saved me from burning down the building.”

“Jesus, I’d forgotten about that.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Only you. Goodnight, Calamity.”

I smiled. “Night.”

Later, as I lay beneath the covers, I kept trying to poke and prod at my psyche, wondering if I was really okay with the sort of friends-with-benefits arrangement Nate and I had alluded to, or if I was lying to myself only so I could be with him. But no matter how many emotional rocks I turned over, I surprised myself by feeling okay. After all, the sex hadn’t been meaningless. It hadn’t felt cheap or gratuitous or impersonal. We hadn’t used each other like anatomically correct robots performing a mechanical act.

In short, I hadn’t felt like Slot B receiving Part A.

Had he thrown himself at my feet to declare his undying love? No. But that was okay. When it was over, I’d felt closer to him than I had before, and that was enough. And I liked that he’d been up front about his insecurities and his fear of disappointing me. Actual feelings! That felt like a huge step in a different direction. A new direction.

I’d move in a new direction, too. I certainly didn’t need to repeat my usual song and dance routine, the one where I hurled myself body, heart, and soul into a new relationship and expected the guy to do the same. It had backfired every time.

This time, I vowed, would be different.

I would be understanding. I would be patient. I would slow down and enjoy the ride, wherever it took us.

But I really, really hoped it took us somewhere together.

Monday morning, my alarm went off at 6:45 AM, and I smiled upon awakening, even though I’d only gotten about five hours of sleep. It was the happiest I’d felt in a long time.

While I was in the shower, I thought about texting Nate to see if he wanted me to bring him some breakfast. Our building had a little coffee shop downstairs that I usually hit on my way to work, and it carried doughnuts and muffins and other things, too. I hurried through my routine, and dried off, then wrapped my head in a towel and sat on my bed.

Me: Can I bring you anything from the shop downstairs?

Nate: Yes. I’d like a case of Red Bull, 6 lines of cocaine, and a Pixie Stick.

Me: Will you settle for a doughnut?

Nate: I guess, if you don’t have any cocaine.

Me: I’m fresh out. But I will bring you some coffee.

Nate: Thanks.

Smiling, I set my phone aside and got dressed, throwing on jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt that drooped off one shoulder. Beneath it I wore a black lace bralette that would peek out. Sexy but not too sexy. Comfy but not sloppy. I wore my hair down because Nate seemed to like it that way, brushed my teeth, and put on only a little makeup.

Down in the lobby shop, I grabbed the coffee and doughnuts, and on a whim also purchased a magazine whose cover advertised an article titled “Five Tips for Breaking Your Bad Relationship Patterns.” It might have been total nonsense, but I figured I had nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing things differently this time around.  

A few minutes later, I knocked on his door, a drinks carrier in one hand and a paper bag containing doughnuts and the magazine in the other. He opened it, and my breath caught. I don’t know why. I’d seen him in a suit and tie a thousand times. But it was different today. For once, I didn’t feel the least bit angry that he looked so damn good—I felt excited.

“Hi. You look nice.”

“Thanks.” He shut the door behind me and reached for one of the coffee cups. “Oh my God, I need this.”

“It’s all yours.” I set the bag and carrier on the table, sort of disappointed he hadn’t kissed me hello. “How was the night?”

He took a few gulps of coffee before answering. “Fair. She woke up after you left and then again at the asscrack of dawn, but I think there was a four-hour stretch of sleep somewhere during the night. That was kind of amazing.”

“Ever think you’d be so happy to get a four-hour stretch of sleep?”

“Never. She’s napping right now, upstairs in my room. The monitor is on.” He picked up a leather messenger bag by the door and slung it over his shoulder. “I should head out. Call me if you need to. I’ll be back by 11:30.”

“Wait, don’t you want your doughnut?”

He opened the door and glanced at his watch. “I don’t really have time. Save it for me?”

“Okay.” I went to give him a hug, but it was kind of awkward because he didn’t hug me back. Granted, his hands were full—one held the coffee and the other was holding the door open—but he didn’t even lean into me or move at all. He just stood there. I gave his waist a quick squeeze and stepped back, but it was like hugging a tree trunk. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Halfway into the hallway, he looked back at me. “Oh, thanks for doing this. I owe you.”

“It’s no problem. See you later.”

The door closed, and he was gone.

I stood there for a moment in the silence, wondering why he seemed so cool and distant this morning—nothing like the guy who’d kissed me goodnight at the door last night, let alone the guy who’d ripped off my clothes and given me two orgasms on the couch, or even the guy who spoke softly and seriously about being worried he’d let me down because he wasn’t good at this. I’d felt special to him last night. This morning, I felt like a babysitter with a weird, inappropriate crush.

Sighing, I opened the bag of doughnuts and took out an apple fritter. I ate it standing at the big window overlooking the city, and decided I was being silly. He was probably just tired and distracted. Of course he was—he was going on four hours of sleep. He’d probably be different when he got home and could relax.

When Paisley woke up, I decided to take her for a walk after her bottle. I packed a little bag with some emergency supplies, bundled her up in the coat and leggings she’d arrived in, and strapped her into the stroller. Double checking to make sure I had Nate’s key with me, I locked the door when we left and texted Nate on the elevator ride down to the lobby.

Taking Paisley for a walk. Don’t worry, I have a key!

He didn’t text back.

Outside, I pushed the stroller four blocks up one side of the street, crossed over, and came back down the other. I didn’t see anyone I knew, but occasionally a stranger would peek into the stroller and smile. She’s adorable, they’d say. She has your chin, one woman told me. Daddy must have dark hair, said another, looking back and forth from me to Paisley. Rather than tell them she wasn’t mine, I smiled and said, Thank you and Does she really? and Yes, he does. I told myself it was easier to simply accept the compliments than explain whose baby she was, but secretly some part of me liked that people thought she was mine and Nate’s. It was stupid, of course. They didn’t know who Nate was. But in my mind, I allowed the fantasy to entertain me for a little while, unhealthy as it may have been.

Sometimes, a girl’s gotta have some dessert.

After the walk, I fed her again and put her down for her nap. Ten minutes later, I was sitting on the couch reading the Five Tips article when Nate came in.

“Hi,” I said, setting the magazine aside. “How did it go?”

“Fine.” He set his bag down, took off his suit coat, and tossed it onto a chair.

I waited for him to go on. When he didn’t, I asked, “Did you tell your boss?”

“Yeah.”

“Was she surprised?”

He rubbed his face with two hands. “To say the least. But she was very understanding. Apparently there’s some sort of provision for paternity leave at our firm, which I had no clue about, of course. But it allows me time off and keeps my job safe.”

“That’s good.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Will you take off the whole month?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I think it’s a good idea. You need time to bond with her.”

“I guess.” He took his phone out of his pocket and started checking his messages.

Something was off. I could feel it.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” He frowned at his screen.

“You seem kind of upset.”

“I’m not.”

“Okaaaay.” I stood, hugging my magazine to my stomach. “Well, maybe I’ll see you later?”

He yawned. “Maybe. Guess I’ll change out of this suit before she wakes up.”

I waited for a moment, hoping he’d at least give me a hug or kiss on the cheek—something to acknowledge the change in our status. It had changed, hadn’t it? Or had last night been only a dream?

But he didn’t touch me. In fact, he didn’t even look at me.

“Thanks again for watching her,” he said, heading for the stairs. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s okay.” The apple fritter balled up in my stomach. “I’ll…talk to you later.”

He said nothing and disappeared into his bedroom, and I let myself out.

It happened, I thought, my stomach churning. I’m one of those girls.