Still not into you - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,1

but different. I wait for him to speak. A minute passes. It feels like a century.

“I...I…lost the money,” he finally says. His voice shakes.

“What money?”

“The money I invested with Dylan’s guy,” he says slowly. There’s a difficulty in each word, it’s as if to say it, he has to move a car singlehandedly from one side of the street to another.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I wrap my arms around him. He doesn’t push me away. Just continues to sit here. Lost in a world that I can’t reach.

“I lost $15,000,” he whispers, burying his head in his hands. “How could I be so stupid?”

“I’m so, so sorry.” I embrace him.

I don’t know what to do to make him feel better. I wish there was something, but I feel utterly helpless. Just be here for him, I say to myself. Just sit here and listen.

“It was going so well. My $5,000 investment became $10,000. I was going to take it out, but then I didn’t. I put it all back in, Alice,” he says.

Whilst at first, words didn’t come at all, now they’re practically tumbling out of him. “Why did I do that?” he asks. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” I whisper.

“I made another $5,000 and then…then it all disappeared.”

“How?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out and then says, “The stock plummeted after the CFO of the pharmaceutical company was arrested for insider trading.”

We sit in silence for a long time. I don’t know what to say and Hudson has nothing else to say. Eventually, and with a great deal of effort, I turn off the light and take the laptop from his lap. I pull the covers over him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Where are you going?” he whispers.

“I thought I’d give you some time to rest,” I say.

“Can you stay? Please?”

I climb into bed with him. Hudson wraps his arms around me. He presses himself against me. We spoon for some time. Minutes tick away. Sometime later, I turn to face him. I think that he’s asleep, but he’s wide awake. Still staring out in the distance.

“You should get some sleep,” I say. “Things will be better in the morning.”

Hudson looks at me. He disentangles his hand from the covers and brushes his index finger along my bottom lip. His fingertip feels soft like silk. Slowly, he pulls himself closer to me. I feel his breath on my lips. Our lips touch.

His lips are effervescent. He parts my lips with his tongue. It feels familiar and strange at the same time. As we kiss, our bodies morph into one. I can no longer tell where he begins and I end.

Suddenly, his kisses become more forceful. He presses his whole body into mine. Every last inch of it is hard and strong. He climbs on top of me and kisses me harder. So hard that it borders on painful. I try to keep up. I push back into him. He rises a little above me. I’m surprised at my own strength.

We make out well into the night. It doesn’t go further than that. We don’t rip our clothes off. We simply make out. Like teenagers. Because, mainly, we still are. I don’t want to lie. It’s not like thoughts of pulling off his clothes don’t strike me, but I don’t initiate. He doesn’t either. At this moment, this is enough. This is more than enough. Sometime later, after we’re both worn out, we fall asleep in each other’s arms.

2

It’s 3:37 a.m. when I sneak out of bed to get something to drink. As I pour myself a cup of milk, Dylan comes in and flips on the lights. He startles me. I shield them as best as I can, but the bright lights still sting my eyes.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. Didn’t know you were in here,” he says.

Dylan’s dressed in a suit. The one he wears exclusively to clubs.

“Shit, Alice, I’m not having a good day,” Dylan says.

“Neither is Hudson,” I say.

He looks away. Pours himself a cup of water. “Oh, he heard? I was going to tell him in the morning.”

“He lost $15,000, Dylan,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t know it was that much. I thought he’d only invested five.”

“No, he invested his gains back into it.”

“Ah, well, that’s what happens.” Dylan shrugs.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” I ask. “That’s all his savings. He lost everything.”

I’m so angry, I want to punch him.

“Hey, if it’s