“There you are!” Someone gripped my upper arm on my way back from the ladies room and brought me to a sudden halt. “I went back to your bar but you weren’t there. I thought you left.”
It was Peter.
“Nope. Still here,” I answered lifelessly, hoping my bored expression would be daunting enough. It wasn’t.
Peter’s smile grew wider. “Great. We can continue from where we left off then. Did I tell you…”
Yeah, no. I’d heard enough ‘blab’ to last a lifetime.
“I’m actually here with some friends and I kind of want to catch up with them. So thanks for the drink but I’m going to go back to them now. Bye.”
“But…”
I turned on my heel and cut through the crowd, the rest of his argument fading in the noise.
When I returned to the bar, Jason was back to his initial spot on the other end. I appreciated him backing off, though I couldn’t help the disappointment. I fell into some conversation with Dan and Sylvia to distract myself from constantly wondering what he was thinking and another glass of gin-tonic – which I paid for myself – later we all headed back to the hotel.
It was awfully silent between Jason and me. He hadn’t said anything on our way back and remained quiet once we got in the room. I felt strangely chatty but despite the urge, pushing me to start some conversation, I relied on my better judgement and shared the silence. We could use some cooling off.
I kneeled beside my backpack to grab some shorts and a tank top, which were going to serve as my pyjamas. I couldn’t keep my eyes away from him for long so with the tail of one, I noticed him stripping off his shirt and tossing it on one of the footstools, which was now next to his side of the bed. Before he could proceed with his shorts, I hurried to hide inside the bathroom.
When I was done with changing, removing my makeup, brushing my teeth and taming my hair with an elastic band, I returned into the room. The lights were off except for a night lamp above the free side of the bed. He must have left it on for me. I dropped the clothes I had taken off on the other footstool and made a last step to the recliner. It looked so uncomfortable. But what choice did I have? I pulled a pillow and one of the covers from the empty side of the bed. The armchair squeaked as I curled up on top of it.
“You don’t have to sleep on that,” Jason’s voice suddenly echoed.
My head swung his way. He was lying on his side, facing me. “You want to switch?”
“None of us needs to sleep on that thing. The bed’s big enough for both of us.” Oddly enough, he wasn’t wearing any of his manipulative or smug expressions.
Still, I had to decline. “I doubt that.”
His face lost its helpful glow and hardened. “Fine. Whatever.”
Jason shifted in the bed and with a couple turbulent movements turned his back to me.
Great. Now he was angry. Why was he the sulking one? He got the huge soft bed, didn’t he? If anyone had the right to mope here, it was me.
I stretched my arm to the lamp switch, which was equally distant from both the bed and the recliner, to turn it off and shut my eyes closed. The darkness was spinning a little – an aftereffect of the gin. It didn’t seem like it was going to pass anytime soon so I willed myself to sleep. When nothing happened five minutes later, I shuffled, in search of a more comfortable position. My eyelids dropped again but the result was the same. I repeated the action a few times, the armchair creaking with my every manoeuvre. It soon became clear that there wasn’t any comfortable position on that improvised bed and an exasperate sigh escaped my lips.
YOU ARE READING
Secret Rulebook of Cheating
Humor"Cheating is like casting. You need a lot of candidates to find the right person for the role of your soul mate. And you don't stop at your first selection, because someone more suitable for the part might come along. But you'll never know unless yo...
