I wake up on the sofa covered by a thin, soft blanket, the only illumination in the room cast by the bluish lights over the kitchen island. My whole body feels like jelly, yet soft and mushy. I'm sad too, because Eric didn't take me to bed with him like he did last night. I'm trying to fight the thoughts over what that means and focus only on the lingering pleasure, but I'm not succeeding.

The sound of cutlery hitting a plate finally registers, and I sit up, lock eyes with Eric who is eating from a bowl by the sink. He's still naked, though only his upper body is visible above the counter.

"You're right, this is amazing chili," he says.

"Thanks." I stand up, covering myself with the blanket.

"No need to bother with modesty, don't you think?"

My cheeks grow hot, but I let the blanket fall. They grow even hotter as I approach the kitchen, his eyes taking in every spot on my naked body.

"I thought we'd have a sit down dinner," I say. "I even washed all the plates."

"I noticed that," he says, scraping up some more chili from the bowl and licking the spoon clean. “But you didn't have to wash them by hand. I have a dishwasher.

I try to ignore the mocking tone in his voice. "There was dust on them."

"Was there? I don't eat in much," he says, dumping the empty bowl in the sink, and picking up one of the glossy black plates I left out to dry. "Would you like some too?"

I'm pretty sure he can hear my stomach growling, but I ignore that, as I nod. He sets the plate down for me on the island, while I cut some bread.

"You're not having any more?" I ask, climbing onto the bar stool, and trying not to look like a total klutz doing it.

"Alright, you convinced me," he says, and ladles more chili into his bowl then sits down next to me.

I wait for him to start eating before I do, but once that happens, I can't stop.

"Wow, you were really hungry," he remarks once I'm almost done with my plate.

"All you had to eat in the apartment was canned tuna and crackers," I complain, wiping the rest of the chili from my plate with a piece of bread.

"Let me get you some more," he says, snatching the plate from me and ladling more chili onto it. "I'm sorry for starving you. That wasn't my intention. I just don't have guests over very often."

He sounds more flustered than mocking.

"How can that be?" I ask, taking the full plate he's offering me. "I'm sure you have no trouble getting a girlfriend."

I make the mistake of looking him up and down. Or maybe I was just searching for an excuse to do so. Either way, it's lewd, something my dad or my uncle might do.

He laughs. "You blush very nicely for someone with a tan. All of you gets red easily. I like that."

I probably just blushed a few extra shades of red at that. And I swear his cock just got larger.

He dodged my girlfriend question. But I don't think he has one. There's no evidence of a woman anywhere in the apartment. Though he did have that dress he gave me to wear to the party. That must've belonged to one of his girlfriends. But somehow, I'd rather not know.

"So, what do you do all day?" I ask.

"What? Didn't the PI you hired tell you all about that?"

I just shake my head, blushing again. Just my baldness in asking is baffling.

"Right now, I'm mostly working on the solar power plant in the desert," he says. "Though I have some other projects on the go too. I'm thinking of building another fully-sustainable skyscraper here in the city, but the technology is just not quite there yet to make it the way I want it."

That solar plant is the whole reason I'm here, and I want to learn more about it, but I'm afraid asking more about will just sound like I really want him to honor his side of the deal we made. Which he said he wouldn't.

"So you know a lot about eco-building?" I ask instead.

"Yeah, it was my specialization at architecture school."

"Oh, so you're actually an architect."

"I also have a degree in management and I'm currently enrolled in law school, since I no longer trust any lawyer."

"Wow, no wonder you have no time. And with all the meetings too."

"And playing around," he winks at me. "What about you? Do you have a job, or do you just work your father's land all day?"

"I'm a nurse," I say, not sure whether to be offended at the mocking tone in which he asked the question, or happy that we're talking. I choose the latter. "I worked at the ER for a couple of years, but it got too stressful after awhile. My last job was at a retirement home, but I got laid off in June."

I'm not proud of that, so I'm not even sure why I'm telling him.

"They made so many cuts, the economy being so bad and all," I add as a way to explain.

"A nurse, that's sweet," he says. "Do you miss it?"

"Yes, a lot."

I start eating again, all out of questions now, though I'm already so full, I probably won't be able to finish my plate.

"I'll take you shopping tomorrow," he says after awhile. "And we can get some more food then."

He laughs again as I look at him, swallowing a mouthful of chili without chewing it properly.

"That would be nice," I say. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, grinning at me.

"Or maybe you just have some more dresses laying around that I could borrow?" I don't know what possessed me to say it. He's letting me stay, he's making the time to take me shopping, he's having a conversation with me, even though he said he'd rather not. What more do I want? But the girlfriend question is nagging me, won't let up.

He frowns at me, like he's not quite sure what I'm talking about. Or maybe like I upset him.

"A woman forgot that here once, a long time ago. I figured you needed a nice thing to wear to the party, seeing as you packed almost nothing."

"Oh, OK," I say, mixing the food on my plate, but not taking another bite.

"Not sure what you're trying to ask, but I don't really care," he says, sliding off the stool and yawning loudly. "It's time for bed."

I leave my unfinished plate on the counter, and follow him to the bedroom like he was leading me there on a string.

I'm full and sated, and looking forward to falling asleep in his arms.

The sheets are cool against my skin, but he wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my hair, balancing it out.

"You smell so good," he whispers, his voice sounding like it's coming from within a dream.

"You too," I whisper back, but he's already asleep.