The Night in Question

Still not certain of what had just happened, she calmed herself long enough to take note of his hand at her cheek. As he lifted her eyes to meet his, she met his stare and waited for some explanation.

"I meant something like that."

She stood, confused as ever, as he gently slid her hands down his upper arms, over his elbows, and into his open hands. She felt him give them a squeeze before releasing them, letting them fall as he walked into his room and shut the door behind him. It seemed no further explanation would be given tonight.

So she instead took a moment to breathe. Staring at the front of his closed door, she thought about what had just happened. About who it happened with. Reaching her hand to her cheek, she tried to coax a little feeling back into her face and brain alike. Whatever that was, it was pretty…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her own door swinging open. The frustration felt at the disturbance was countered by the realization that she still had company of her own this evening. Company in the form of a tall, handsome doctor. She struggled to find his name momentarily. But, to be fair, she'd have struggled to find her own name given her current state.

"Uh, babe, do you mind?" he said.

That tore it. Being called 'babe' had never been her favorite thing, but tonight, she all but recoiled at the term. However, it served to snap her out of her fog, and she slowly turned to go back to her room.

"It's fine." She answered, not precisely hearing the question, but assuming it had something to do with the melon headed Nick companion she had created for herself earlier in the night. She shook her head and slipped past him into her room.

She heard him close the door behind her. As she walked towards her closet, she became aware of what she was wearing, or rather, how little she was wearing. Not long before, she had considered the idea of intimacy with the good doctor. A soft, pink robe with nothing underneath seemed to be a pretty safe bet to serve as a facilitator for such intimacy. However, her night of drinking and his late shift at work had led to things stalling out. He had fallen asleep almost immediately, and she had heard a scratch at the door, and that eventually led to her good friend and roommate kissing her freaking face off.

And now, she suddenly felt modest. She wasn't interested in the reason why, at the moment, but she was no longer ready for her guest to see her exposed. Luckily, it seemed he had little in mind other than sleep. From behind her, she heard the springs of her bed give way to his long frame. They squeaked for a few moments before they went silent. Turning to face the bed, she was relieved to find him already asleep.

On any other night, she'd have been offended by his lack of enthusiasm. She thought she looked pretty damn good, after all. Both in the pink robe, and before that, in the admittedly cartoonish, but still fairly provocative getup…

That last thought stuck with her. It suddenly occurred to her that she had spent the better part of the night trying to get Nick to kiss her, all while wearing little more than at admittedly flattering bra. Was it really any wonder that, in the end, she was successful?

She shook her head and turned back to her closet. Grabbing a set of light blue pajamas from the shelf, she slipped the bottoms on under her robe. Then, making sure to keep her back to her bed and its occupant, she dropped the robe to the floor, slipped her arms in the sleeves of the top, and began buttoning up. She looked at her guest, and then to the door, thinking. Should she just go across the hall and bang on that idiot's door? Force him to talk to her about what happened? Maybe prompt a repeat performance? Her eyes grew wide at the realization of that last thought. Did she really just think that? Did she really just find herself looking forward to a kiss with Nick Miller? Shaking the thought from her head, she decided against anything rash. Clearly, she was not in her right head. Instead, she cautiously moved over to the bed and laid down, trying not to wake her sleeping boyfriend. That's right, she thought. Boyfriend. Her handsome, kind, child saving, doctor-boyfriend. She looked over at him as she settled in, her added weight to the bed not disturbing his sleep whatsoever.

Biting her lip, she reached out and clicked off the light beside the bed and closed her eyes. Ten seconds later, they were wide open again, staring into the darkness.

What the hell was he thinking? Kissing her like that? And where did that come from, anyway? Well, she had a pretty good idea where that came from. Wasn't like she'd never thought about it, after all. But what the hell was he thinking, crossing that line? She'd always been able to push that sort of temptation aside. Why couldn't he just be a grown up about it? Just keep sucking it up, man. Things were going fine. Better than fine. And he had to go and ruin it, the idiot.

Letting out a huff, she flipped to her side to face the door, wondering if he was already asleep. Nah, even he would need a little time to come down after that kiss. After that completely unneeded, unprovoked, mind bending kiss.

Although, it wasn't exactly unprovoked. She had played her part in the events of that evening. She insisted he come to rescue her from what turned out to be a harmless, albeit giant, puppy dog. She had put up three fingers when she know perfectly well that doing so would 100% result in him not getting to kiss Holly behind the iron curtain. But she was just looking out for him, right? Holly seemed borderline certifiable. Certainly not a viable, long-term girlfriend. And the fact that she was a seven foot tall, swimsuit model of a woman approximately 6-7 years his junior had nothing to do-

Crap. Jess sat up in bed at the realization that she was, in fact Nick's Cooler. That she did, in fact, get protective of him when other women came into the picture. She had cooled Nick off because she didn't want him to get anywhere with Holly. Period. And that led to the realization that she did, in fact, hold some sort of placeholder in her heart and in her head for the dummy across the hall.

But what for? She had ol' what's-his-name beside her, and he was great. Tall, handsome, successful. Perhaps he didn't make her laugh all that much, but what's one strike against all the other good? Fine, there was the Creed thing, which in itself should've been about one strike per concert attended, but Jess could see past that. She wasn't shallow, after all.

As she fell back into bed and stared at the ceiling, she again closed her eyes, and tried to fall asleep. Again, no use. It wasn't happening. Every time her eyes closed, they brought her images of Nick and memories of that freaking kiss. A kiss she, admittedly, should have earned a full-fledged participation medal for in the very least. Takes two to tango, and takes two to shake the earth in a kiss like, that, too.

As she fought the smile that was crawling over her lips, she allowed herself yet another internal confession: that kiss was probably behind schedule. Even earlier that night, there had been a moment. The one just before the doctor showed up. Nick's hand had fallen ever so gently to the inside her knee. He had left it there. And she had let him. She remembered now the slight charge that had gone through her body in that moment, wondering if this was finally it, not in regards to their stupid game, but in regards to their whole, stupid relationship.

She would have let him kiss her then, too. She realized that now. But that wasn't the point anyway. She had clearly allowed, even energetically participated in what had happened. But it was he who instigated it. He who grabbed her arm, pulled her in, and took the lead. It was his fault that she lie here awake, thinking of Nick Miller instead of the man sleeping to her right.

Rolling back to face the door, she wondered how things were going to be now. The one thing they couldn't do was ignore it anymore. Whatever 'it' was. Or could they? What was the kiss to Nick anyway? She'd always assumed their complicated feelings were mutual. That he was privy to the unspoken arrangement that had existed since that night on the beach. The night were 'nothing' happened, but they both really knew 'something' happened. She then replayed that particular night over in her head. And again. And again. It was the first time Nick made her feel like she belonged. Like she was an important part of his life. And yeah, things changed that night, and things did kind of happen. But nothing on the scale of this.

No. Something had to give. A kiss like that? No way they go back to being just friends. Not even friends that mutually threw a rug over whatever complicated and 'unfriend like' feelings they might have had for each other. No, this was going to change things. But how? Would she have to move out? Nick couldn't afford to live on his own. Would they get to a point where they took to avoiding each other? Nick sticking to the apartment during the day, working exclusively night shifts so she could come home from work at night to a stress free environment? Would she have to avoid the bar, and Nick in general for a while?

She flipped to her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. None of that was going to work. She couldn't imagine not having him in her life at this point. Over the year and a half of knowing Nick, he had pretty much become her go-to. Her go-to on… pretty much everything.

She opened her eyes into her pillow as another thought took hold: what if they just… started dating? It's crazy, but not that crazy. There was clearly something there. After all, she was pretty sure part of her face was still lying on the floor between their bedrooms. And that sort of thing doesn't just come out of nowhere. They cared for each other. They clearly enjoyed being around each other… most of the time. And there was the attraction. Undeniable on both sides, it was clearly a part of this equation. Why… couldn't they just start dating? Give this thing a real shot?

She found the thought encouraging, almost comforting. Jess and Nick. A real, bona fide couple. That didn't sound too bad. Why not? Just why the hell not?

As she spun to her right, she found her answer. The man sleeping 8 inches to her right. She'd sort of forgotten about his role in all of this. He was a good enough guy, once she brought his defenses down. Defenses that, ironically enough, were put up due to a bad breakup. She didn't want to hurt him. He had done nothing wrong, after all. But Jess had all but forgotten about him ever since Nick had swept her up in that kiss. Ever since she climbed into bed, her thoughts had been focused solely on Nick Miller, and not the man beside her. As the guilt took hold, she noticed that the sun was coming up. It was morning. Regardless of the late night, she had been mulling her situation over for hours and hours, with almost no sleep. Turning to face the door again, she thought about her next move. All the thinking she'd been doing, all the sleep she'd missed could all be for naught. She had to talk to the other party involved in her… situation. At least, one of the other parties. The instigator. Shaking her head, she gave the man next to her a quick glance. She bolted from the bed, and headed for the door, unsure of what awaited her on the other side.

Can't say it enough, thanks for reading.