Five

 

ANGELA

 

I feel like I’m suffocating in my sleep. Warmth that I’m not used to feeling along my backside has me slightly stiffening. My eyes slowly open, and I squint into the dark room trying to remember where I am. Movement from behind me has me stiffening even more as I hold my breath waiting to see what will happen next.

As the body behind me lets me go and rolls over, I begin to have flashbacks of the night. My body starts to heat up at the memories of Curt and what we did. Glancing at the clock I see it’s three in the morning. I know I need to get going because I need to get a shower before I’m due to my mother's in a few hours. She believes in early Saturday morning mommy and daughter time. And I really don’t want to spend that whole time with her bitching that I was late.

With the slowest moves I didn’t know I even was possible of making, I gradually slide out of the bed knowing he needs some sleep. Tiptoeing through the room, I pick up my clothes and make my way to the bathroom. While dressing, I decide to leave my phone number on the side table and hope that he will give me a call.

After I'm as put together as I can get, I grab my shoes and my purse. Then I make my way as quiet as I can over to the side of the bed he’s currently sleeping on. I place a light kiss on his check after leaving my number on the table. With one last look I quietly murmur, “Thank you for a night I’ll never forget. I already know I’m more than falling for you.”

 

 

My heart starts beating inside my chest as I make my way up the steps of the local police station. I shake my head as I try to erase the butterflies that are floating in my stomach. If I don’t get my nerves under control, I’m afraid they might think I’m guilty of something instead of somewhat stalking one of their officers. Because for the past four weeks I’ve been kicking myself for leaving that hotel room without waking him up.

When I showed up at my mom's after I went home and showered—since I couldn’t do it at the hotel in fear it would wake Curt up—she demanded to know what was wrong, and why I looked different. I wanted to shout I wasn’t a virgin anymore because I had a one-night stand. But that could have went one of two ways. She would have either A: yelled at me for not waiting for the one, or B: demanded all the details so she could start planning a wedding, because she was choosing to ignore the one-night stand part.

So, I opted to just tell her about Tracie, which then had her go into super-mom-to-the-rescue mode and make a ton of sweets for me to eat, since the neighbor wasn’t coming over due to having to leave town.

For a week I ran to my phone with my heart in my throat praying that it was him calling me. And every time I would be disappointed when it wasn’t. The second week was spent trying everything to forget him, I then decided to go to the bar to see if he showed up. When I walked into Jumpin’ Jacks the fourth day, Brad started asking questions on what was going on since I was coming in by myself, drinking Coke while people watching. Not wanting anyone to know the truth, I told him I was bored at home by myself. He bought it and talked to me for the rest of the night, off and on between customers, about any and everything he could think of. I didn’t show up again after that.

Finally, after four weeks, I couldn’t take it anymore and spilled to Waverlee about my one-night stand. She’s the one who suggested that I go to the police department and ask about him. I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s there, and they call him into the lobby area.

Actually, scratch that. I know exactly what I will do and now I’m scared that I’ll be arrested for assaulting an officer sexually in front of everyone. I’m desperately craving a kiss from his soft lips. Just the memory of how they felt has me getting wet, and my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Shaking my head, I mentally slap myself as I open the lobby doors.

“Hello, how can I help you?” the officer behind the glass asks me as I step up to the check-in area.

“I'm looking for an officer. I don’t know his last name, but his first name is Curt. He’s about six-four, light brownish hair and has a short beard. He helped me the other day and I didn’t get a chance to say thank you for what he did.” The lie that I practiced with Waverlee comes out shakenly, and I pray she doesn’t recognize how nervous I truly am.

“I don’t know anyone by the first name of Curt that works here. Let me check the roster . . .” she trails off as she reaches for the directory next to the laptop. After what seems like an hour, she glances up and gives me a soft smile. “I’m sorry, sweetie, there's nobody by that name that works in this police department.”

“Oh, I could have sworn he said he was an officer. I guess I misunderstood. Thank you for your time,” I murmur back to her as my heart starts to break.

Slowly making my way to my car, I begin to get angry at the thought that he lied to me. It makes me wonder what else he lied about that night. I told him my deepest fears as to why I held onto my virginity for so long. I have half the mind to call Shaw, and tell him, but then that means I have to confess who my one-night stand was.

I take a second to control the tears that are threatening to fall. I’m now grateful that he hasn’t called by now. He isn’t worth it.