Page 1 of Caleb
2005
The Last Time
March 21, 2005
TODAY IS THE DAY I DIE. My eyes fly open, and I come to terms with the fact that I’ve finally managed to end my life with a hangover. The incessant pounding inside my head becomes unbearable as a sliver of an intense orange ray of sunlight floods through the blinds, hitting my face. I grab my phone to see the hour. Shit. I’m already late.
If there’s anything worse than waking up with a hangover, it’s waking up with a hangover on a fucking Monday.
A moment later, I manage to sit up on the bed. My hands fly up to massage my scalp and temples, but it’s no use. Sublingual ketorolac is my only hope to get through this one.
I yank my nightstand drawer open and toss a pill under my tongue, knowing it won’t eliminate the headache, but at least it’ll make it bearable enough for me to make the drive back up to Ein Gev. I know the drill.
Standing up, I become aware of Noa lying in my bed. Her naked body is messily wrapped around the covers. Her long, dark hair resting on the pillow reminds me of how my fingers pulled on it roughly last night—just how she likes it.
Her breathing is even and deep.
She shouldn’t have stayed over. She shouldn’t have called me last night, and I shouldn’t have picked up the phone. This was a mistake, like every time before it. I’m no good for her, and she knows it. She wants more than I can offer her, even if she likes to claim she doesn’t. I’m in no position to make myself care about anyone right now. Not romantically, at least. Pretending to be equipped for it would not only be stupid but downright unfair.
Noa needs to wake up. Literally. She’s also late for work. We both needed to be in Ein Gev forty minutes ago, and we’re almost a two-hour drive away from the kibbutz we’re both volunteering at. Levi will be pissed, especially if he finds outI’mthe reason his niece is late for work.
Forcing myself to peel my gaze away from Noa, I grab the pack of menthols from my nightstand and light one up. I walk toward the kitchen, exhaling a plume of smoke at the ceiling, and contemplate my sanity for the millionth time. After a few hits, I put the cigarette out. The nicotine is not agreeing with me.
Fuck. I need coffee, and my espresso machine has been broken for a while. But somehow, knowing I’ll push a cup of instant coffee down my throat instead messes with my already irritable temper. So I fill a pot with water and let it heat up on one of the burners while I jump in the shower.
Opting for an ice-cold shower is the only choice I have to wake up fully. It also forces me to avoid taking my time in here because I have less than five minutes before the kettle is ready, and Ineedthat coffee. Urgently.
As I step out of the shower, Noa startles me with her naked presence inside my bathroom. “Hey,” she says, her lips upturning slightly into a small smile. My eyes inevitably drift to her perfect breasts.
“Morning.” I look away and fasten a towel around my waist. “We’re late.” I walk out and head toward the kitchen.
“Who cares?” she replies too quickly. I can hear her footsteps behind me creaking against the weathered wood flooring of my studio apartment.
“Take a shower and get dressed.” My tone is flat but unintentionally bordering on commanding. I’m careful not to get too worked up about Noa’s stubbornness. It’ll only turn her on if I start ordering her around.
“I just woke up. Give me a break.”
Ignoring her, I grab two mugs and fill them with hot water. Noa stands behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her tits against my back.Fuck. I take a deep breath because I can feel myself getting hard, and I’m a second away from bending her over the kitchen counter to “give her a break,” but I can barely open my eyes from the headache as it is. And that’s not the only reason why fucking her—again—is not a good idea.
Coffee. I focus on coffee.
Managing to pour a teaspoon of instant coffee in each cup, I mindlessly stir them while Noa, in an act of rebellion, strokes my stomach and chest with her fingers. She’s up to no good, I can tell.
“Levi will be pissed,” I remind her. “He’ll find a way to make up for the lost time, and you know it. Your tips will probably take a hit.”
“It’ll be worth it,” she coos. “I know how to handle him.”
“Coffee’s ready.” I slide her cup to the side so she can see it. So she can grab it, drink it, and walk away to take a shower like the good girl I know she is, even if she likes to pretend otherwise when in my presence.
I bring the cup to my lips and take a small sip, welcoming the scorching bitterness on my tongue. Waiting for the caffeine to kick the fuck in.
“I don’t need coffee to wake up,” she whispers, pressing her lips against my skin. “I need … you.” Her hands slide further down, and my dick betrays me. I settle the cup on the counter, and a groan escapes my throat. It comes out as a toxic mixture of annoyance and arousal. She chuckles.
Turning around, I grab Noa’s wrists and immobilize her against the fridge. “Cut the games,” I say, my tone laced with exasperation, feigning indifference to the indisputable effect she has on me. “You shouldn’t have stayed over.”
“You love it when I do.”
I don’t. But I don’t tell her that. I should love it when she spends the night. Any man with half a brain cell would. But I’m dead inside, and I certainly don’t deserve her.
