The Next Morning

Natalie heard him moving as she came out of her room to go to the kitchen. The soft thud of a cabinet, the pull of the fridge door opening, and then closing again. She took a second in the hallway, steadying her breath. Her heart hadn’t slowed all morning since she opened her eyes and remembered what she’d seen.

Or what she’d done, fingers between her thighs, biting her wrist to keep quiet, watching him from just a few feet away.

And then bolting, like a thief in the night.

She stepped into the kitchen with her breath held tighter than she realized. She came out earlier than normal hoping to avoid him, but he must have had the same idea, and now it was too late, feeling committed. Aiden was already at the counter, hunched slightly over a bowl of cereal, wearing the same drawstring shorts he always did in the morning, with no shirt.

Really? Not even a shirt? Couldn’t he have at least worn that today? she thought to herself.

He looked up the moment she entered.

“Hey,” he said.

“Morning.” She didn’t look at him, just gave a faint nod.

Her voice sounded thin. She moved toward the coffee machine, aiming for something normal from her typical routine. She slid a pod into the slot, hit the button, and stepped back, waiting.

The machine blinked once. Then started its slow, stuttering cycle. She stared at the trickle of dark liquid hitting the mug, her back to him. It felt like the longest brew of her life.

Her arms folded across her stomach. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as the machine sputtered and hissed behind her. She could hear him eating, every clink of his spoon, every crunch as he bit down, but her own thoughts were louder.

She kept going back to the slip of her foot last night. Her heel catching on the floor as she turned to leave, right after she saw him finish all over himself. Just a half-step too quick, and too careless. The squeak of her bare foot skidding on the floor was just enough to echo in the stillness of the living room.

Her stomach twisted at the memory of it.

He had to have heard that. Please don’t let him have heard that. Please don’t let him know I was standing there, watching him cum all over himself like that.

She bit the inside of her cheek, hard. She hadn't made any other sounds, at least she didn’t think she had. But that slip had given her away. It had to.

He wasn’t saying anything about it, and neither was she.

She just needed this cup to fill so she could run and hide behind her bedroom door. Maybe pretend the whole thing didn’t happen, even though her body remembered exactly how it had felt.

She kept still, blinking at the half-filled cup, willing it to hurry up as though staring hard enough would make the difference.

Behind her, Aiden spooned another bite of cereal into his mouth. He expected her to look… off, but he didn’t expect her to avoid him completely. He’d hoped to have a little more time before facing her though too.

He couldn’t stop replaying last night in his own head. The fact that he’d stayed in the living room, sitting on the couch, and that he’d chosen to relieve himself while sitting there. And then the moment right after…

He’d heard something. A squeak of skin on the vinyl, faux-wood floor in the hallway, followed by a door closing. It wasn’t loud, but too distinct to be anything else.

Why the fuck didn’t he just go to his room instead of sitting there? It had to be her that he heard. Clearly, she had, based on how she was acting.

How much did she see? Did she watch, trapped by the shock of what she was seeing? Or maybe she came out, barely saw anything and turned so quickly she slipped… Was she disgusted? Embarrassed for him? Angry?

I’m a damned idiot, he chastised himself.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, trying for casual, as if he hadn’t spent all morning worrying that he’d completely wrecked the good thing he had going here.

“Yeah,” she said, with her voice cracking in that awkwardly higher pitch than normal. “You?”

“Fine. Little cold.” His fingers tightened around the spoon. “You know how it gets in here sometimes.”

She gave a small nod, keeping her eyes fixed on the stream of coffee. He watched the curve of her back, and the tension in her shoulders. She looked like she was barely breathing. It wasn’t like her to avoid him like this.

The machine finally sputtered out the last of the coffee. Natalie reached for the mug, her hand steady even though everything inside her felt wrecked. She didn’t add sugar, or even cream. Just wrapped her fingers around the warmth and blurted the first thing that came to her mind.

“I’m gonna shower,” she said without turning.

“Cool.”

He winced at the word the second it left his mouth. Cool. Like they were still in high school, and he hadn’t moaned her name in his head while jerking off less than eight hours earlier.

Natalie turned and left without looking back, her coffee held in both hands as she scurried away. The hallway swallowed her up, one soft footstep at a time.

Aiden stared down at his cereal. He hadn’t taken a bite in what felt like minutes. He pushed the bowl away and slumped forward, elbows on the counter, head in his hands.

What the hell just happened?

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