Natalie has to face him the next day

The tap of a door being pulled shut accidently to hard, was what woke her.

Natalie blinked, as her eyes adjusted to the haze of early light filtering through the curtains in her room. The bed was a mess beneath her. The sheets tangled around her legs; comforter bunched near her waist like she’d been fighting with it in her sleep. She was on her side, with one arm bent under the pillow, the other reaching toward the nightstand.

The sound of the door was followed by a clatter that echoed faintly from the hall, followed by a low, whispered “Shit,” and the soft skittering of something across the floor. A shoe, maybe. She didn’t move at first, just stared ahead at nothing, breathing slowly, her body still protesting and wanting more sleep.

Her hand found her phone without thinking. She tapped the screen and squinted at the notifications. Two unread texts. One image.

She slid her thumb up and opened the thread with Matt.

Yep. She’d sent them.

Not just one, either. The one of her mound only covered by her panties, with thighs parted just enough to make out some minor details. The soft lighting. The implication of everything she’d done once the camera clicked off. The image of the toy. Natalie dropped the phone back to the bed, her fingers still loosely curled around it. She wasn’t embarrassed she sent them, exactly, however, she was mildly surprised by how carried away she’d gotten in last night’s activities. She never would’ve pictured doing any of that, ok, maybe the pictures, but not this soon, but between the sounds from Aiden’s room and Matt’s relentless flirting, she’d gotten swept up and let her inhibitions go.

And now, here she was. Staring at the wall, and listening to what sounded like the clink of a dish being set into the sink, and then the faint scuff of shoes toward the front door. The latch clicked shut. Then nothing.

No footsteps back to his room. No whispered goodbye. Just the stillness of a Friday morning.

She stayed there for a few more seconds, then pushed back the sheets and stood. The floor was cool beneath her bare feet as she walked quietly toward the front door and locking it, before making her way to the kitchen. The apartment felt hollow. Not empty, never empty anymore, just quiet in a way that made her feel like an intruder in her own space because of last nights unexpected guest.

There was a glass by the sink sporting the evidence of who it belonged to. A faint pink smear on the rim, was unmistakable even in the dim light filtering through the closed blinds. A throw blanket was draped unevenly over the arm of the couch. The one she’d left there last night when she decided to head to her own room, in a bid to escape the sounds, without tidying up like she normally would.

Natalie stepped to the sink and turned on the faucet. The water ran warm as she washed the glass. The lipstick faded and clarity returned as the last traces of her washed away. But the feel of the moment stayed lodged with her.

She’d slipped out of apartments early a number of times. Most recently was the weekend before Aiden’s arrival. Hair tousled, perfume faded, heels in hand. But seeing it here, in her kitchen as his girl left, she was feeling something she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t jealousy. She had no right to that, and she wasn’t the jealous type anyway. I also wasn’t judgment. Just... a reminder? This wasn’t only her space anymore. And this woman, whoever she was, was part of that.

She set the glass on the drying rack and exhaled slowly, like the thought itself needed purging. Then she stood there a moment longer, hands resting on the edge of the sink, waiting for the silence to feel normal again. And maybe for this light hangover to go away, so she could get ready for work.

It was too early to be awake, and her body knew it. Fridays usually started with the same routine. Alarm at seven, coffee before the shower, makeup in the soft light of the vanity she never fully finished organizing. But today her eyes had opened too early because of someone that didn’t even live here, bringing awareness to her head that was a little thick from the extra glass of wine she shouldn’t have poured. She could feel the dull throb behind her eyes, that sign of dehydration and broken sleep.

The thought of sitting through back-to-back meetings feeling like this made her stomach turn. Today, there’d be no snooze button, or rolling over. As much as she wanted to go back to sleep, she knew it was a lost cause now. She was already up. Her brain was already going.

And aside from the meetings, she also had a presentation later that morning, a client call she’d been putting off, as well as a spreadsheet she hadn’t finished updating. Natalie sighed quietly and crossed the living room, brushing her fingertips along the back of the couch on the way to her bedroom. The blanket was still there, half-folded, half-forgotten. She didn’t touch it.

Once in her room, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the closet without moving. Her phone still rested on the nightstand, screen dark and silent. She hadn’t responded to Matt yet. She needed to put the version of herself from last night on pause for a bit. Compartmentalize and get through the day. She could deal with whatever he said later, when she wasn’t hungover and emotionally over-primed.

With a soft groan, she pushed herself up and walked to the bathroom. The mirror didn’t lie, hinting to the night she had. Her hair was wild from sleep, faint smudges beneath her eyes having skipped her bedtime routine, as well as lips still a little swollen from her own teeth chewing at them. She looked like someone who’d had a night. And it wasn’t just because of the wine, or the toys.

She let out a long breath and turned on the shower. A sense of routine settling in with the feeling of warm water. Something that didn’t involve feelings, or the memory of how loud it had gotten in the room across the hall.

She let the steam rise and tried not to think of the girl’s voice, or the sight of the toy still damp on the comforter after she’d finished. Really tried not to wonder if Aiden had heard her, too.

And there he was again, threading through her thoughts. The unmistakable sense that everything was shifting, and she had no idea what came next.

By the time she stepped out of the shower, she was starting to feel a little more refreshed. The signs of last night having been washed away.

Natalie towel-dried her hair and pulled on a robe, the pale grey one that had lost its plushness in the wash, but the softness made it the preferred when she was dragging and wanted something reliable. She didn’t bother with makeup yet, since it was still so early. Just moisturizer, lip balm, and a need for caffeine.

She dropped a pod into the coffee maker, closed the lid, and pressed the button. The quiet whir and drip filled the kitchen as she leaned against the counter, resting her hands on it to support her weight. It was a slow morning. A weird one even. But it was still Friday, and work wasn’t going to go away, with too much to get done to call in because she chose to indulge last night.

Behind her, she heard movement. A soft yawn and the shuffle of bare feet on tile as Aiden came out of his room.

He appeared with his usual sleep-rough hair and pajama pants slung low as always. The shirt he threw on was wrinkled, and he was rubbing his eyes which were still adjusting to the light. “Morning,” he mumbled.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Morning,” she returned casually, trying to sound better than she felt. She turned back to grab her mug just as the machine finished brewing.

He went to the cupboard, pulled down a bowl, and helped himself to cereal with the kind of sleepy ease that came from his age and not giving anything a second thought. Bright colors spilled into the bowl like confetti.

She took a slow sip from her coffee, then glanced toward the hallway. “She seemed nice.” Then added, “From the three seconds I saw her.”

Aiden blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Yeah, she’s… cool.”

How’d you two meet?” she asked, as she leaned against the counter with her coffee.

Aiden shifted the cereal around with his spoon. “At a bar.”

Natalie’s left brow lifted, mug paused halfway to her lips. “A bar?”

He picked up a spoonful, keeping his eyes on the bowl. “Yeah.”

There was a short pause before she spoke again, light, but pointed. “How’d you get into a bar?”

That made him glance up. He was caught. Not that he exactly hid it by confessing he’d gone.

He hesitated, slowly chewing his cereal, but clearly, she wasn’t going to let it go. He could see her still looking at him. “Alright, whatever… fake ID.”

Natalie blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Seriously?”

Aiden’s mouth tugged into a grin that seemed more sheepish than proud. “I mean… yeah?”

“Lisa would love that,” she said, smirking into her coffee.

His expression twisted into concern. “Please don’t tell her.”

“I won’t,” she said, setting the mug down. “But that is absolutely going in the vault for later in case you ever get out of line,” she finished, taunting him.

He groaned. “I’m already regretting honesty.”

“Good. Builds character.”

The awkward tension had lifted slightly, as the mood lightened. It was still complicated for her and her memories, but a little easier to sit with.

She tilted her head slightly. “She have a fake ID too?”

Aiden smirked. “Nah. She’s twenty-one. Just had her birthday last week.”

Natalie gave him a sly look. “Ooh. Look at you, already going for older women.”

He let out a soft laugh, but didn’t immediately reply.

The words hit different. Yes, Kim was technically older, but not enough to count. Her words struck home because the moment she said older women, his brain latched onto the one standing in front of him. The same one he’d known for years, but learned so much more about over the last month

Natalie.

The actual older woman in the apartment. The one who did yoga in the mornings in those tight black pants that clung like second skin. The one who’d walked into the hall the other day with her robe half-loose, waiting for him to come out of the shower. The one with smooth legs, flushed cheeks, and a way of tying that robe just tight enough to make him wonder what she was currently wearing under it, if anything at all.

These same thoughts often occupied his mind. They were the only things he had of her and his imagination tried to put them to use often.

He blinked, shifting his weight from one leg to the another and forcing himself back into the conversation.

Natalie grinned. “That girl was loud. I thought someone was filming porn in there.”

Aiden’s spoon paused midair. “Wow. Okay.”

She took a sip of coffee, eyes dancing over the rim. “Just saying. Might want to warn the neighbors next time.”

He smirked. “Says the woman who nearly broke a bedspring with mom on night one.” It Just slipped out. The thought wasn’t out of character, but the fact that his filter failed to stop it from leaving his lips, caught them both of guard.

She blinked, nearly **** on her sip. “Excuse me?”

Aiden tapped his spoon against the bowl. “Thin walls, remember?” he answered, owning his slip of tongue.

Her cheeks flushed. “Okay, truce.”

The words landed, and Natalie froze for half a second. Long enough to realize what she’d essentially just admitted to him without protest. What he had just thrown right back at her. It wasn’t just that either. It was hearing him say with mom. The words had a way of reframing everything. She wasn’t just having thoughts of Lisa’s son, but a lover’s son. If anything ever happened with Aiden, she will have been to bed with both. Mother and son. Maybe not at the same time, but no less impactful to her in that moment.

Her mouth parted, then shut again. A faint flush crept into her cheeks. “Right. Well. I should probably finish getting ready for work,” she said quickly, pushing off the counter with a little too much energy. “Big day. Emails. Meetings. Adult stuff.”

She turned quickly, mug still in hand.

“Hey,” Aiden called after her, grin spreading. “If you ever wanna compare decibel levels, we could get one of those noise meters,” he threw out trying to use humor to ease the awkwardness before she was gone and it festered with both of them.

“Don’t tempt me,” she said over her shoulder.

“Seriously, we could chart it. Make a whole graph-”

She stopped at the edge of the hall and raised a finger. “I will change the Wi-Fi password.”

He laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, junior.”

Then she disappeared down the hall, leaving him grinning into his cereal like he’d just scored more than one win before 7 a.m.

Enjoying the story? You can support my work on Patreon where this story is currently through chapter 78 at the time of this posting. Happy reading!