What's Left of Me
Page 11

 Amanda Maxlyn

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The kitchen is off to my left. I take in the granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. There isn’t anything on the counters. Not even a piece of mail. His apartment is modern with gray and blue tones throughout. Turning to head toward the door, I notice a picture of him on an end table. He’s with two older people: a man and a woman. His parents? I wonder how old he is. Maybe late twenties? Early thirties?
Okay, Aundrea, move along. Stop thinking about how old Mr. Handsome is.
I decide not to put my shoes back on so I don’t wake Parker. I think about leaving my number, but then remember what this was supposed to be. A one-night stand. Nothing more.
I bump into the corner of the wall as I walk toward the door and drop one of my shoes onto his hardwood floors.
“Shit!” I hiss. I hear Parker stirring in the bedroom, which causes me to move faster. Picking up my shoe, I keep walking forward.
“Aundrea?” Parker calls from the bedroom.
I don’t look back. I open the door and close it too loud, heading for the elevator. I push the elevator button multiple times, willing it to reach my floor as if continuously pushing it will make it go faster. When I hear loud movements and banging coming from inside his apartment, I can only speculate he’s getting dressed to come after me. I see a door under an exit sign by the elevators with another sign reading “Stairs.” Opening it, I take two steps at a time. I make it to the ninth floor where I stand and wait in the stairwell. I stand there for minutes before I walk the rest of the way down crossing my fingers that I don’t see Parker in the lobby.
Or ever again.
Chapter Four
Exiting Parker’s building with no sign of him anywhere, I make my way back toward Max’s Bar where my car is parked. I search through my phone to call Jean. After six rings it, goes to voicemail. I just leave a quick message, letting her know I am heading to the car and to let me know if she needs me to pick her up.
I feel so embarrassed walking the street in last night’s clothes. I can hear the thoughts screaming out at me from the pedestrians walking by. Walk of shame! I still haven’t put on my shoes in hopes of reaching the car faster. I don’t even think about what I may be walking on. Keeping my head held high, I walk the last block to the car when my phone beeps.
Jean: Shannon will drop me off at the car in ten. She has to meet her family for brunch.
Me: Ok. See you in a few.
Waiting in the car for Jean, I think of Parker and last night. I wonder if he does that sort of thing all the time. Pick up random strangers at the bar. With my heart racing at the thought of Parker doing that, I can only hope he doesn’t think I do that all the time.
Of course, he probably does!
Shannon’s red SUV pulls up behind me. Jean gets out, making her way to the car. She’s smiling. Queue the squeals and questions in three … two …
“Spill it!”
“What? No, ‘how are you this morning?’” I tease.
“Umm, no! I want the dirt! Spill!” I roll my eyes as I watch her buckle in.
With a soft laugh, I pull out of the parking lot. Once I’m out onto the main road, I tell her all about the night, from meeting him at the bathroom, twice, the walk to his apartment, the conversations, and small details about us having sex. By her wide eyes, I think she gets the idea of just how amazing my night was.
“So it was good?”
“Better than good.”
“Hot?”
“Way hot!”
“You made him wrap it up, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mom. He used a condom.”
“Good. Did you get his number?”
I turn to face her with my mouth open. After a split second, I close it, turning back toward the road. “No. Last night was all about just sex. It was me letting go.”
“Well, you could have gotten his number. Especially if the sex was as hot as you made it sound.”
“You’re the one who said to have meaningless, sexy, one-night sex. Now you’re saying I should have gotten the man’s number?”
“You don’t always have to listen to me, you know.”
“Oh my god. You’re so frustrating sometimes!”
She bursts out laughing at that. “But that’s why you love me!”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I mumble sarcastically.
“Well, did you at least have another round with him before you left this morning?”
“Are you kidding me? No! I ran out of there so fast after I scrambled around looking for my clothes. Do you know how embarrassing it was to walk the streets looking the way I do? This is not a church outfit!”
She laughs even harder now, tears coming to her eyes.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” She pauses to try to control her breathing. “It’s just, I can see you running around his place, frantically trying to pick up all your clothes before he woke up!”
I have to admit, it is pretty funny now that I look back on it. I start to laugh with her.
After we calm down, I ask if Shannon mentioned talking to him last night.
“No. She didn’t say anything. Just talked about the guy she met on the dance floor and how she got his number. We pretty much passed out the second we walked into her place.”
Okay. So, he didn’t leave a lasting impression on her then. That’s good, right? I try to convince myself that I don’t care because it’s not like I’ll ever see him again. I make a mental note to never go to that bar again on the off chance that I might run into him.