It Ends with Us

literally
on his knees begging
for sex that does me in. 
That’s pretty pathetic.
“Get 
up
,” I say, pushing his arms away from me. “You’re embarrassing
yourself.”
He slowly stands up, dragging his hands up the door on either side of
me until he has me caged in between his arms. “Is that a yes?” His chest is
barely touching mine and I hate how good it feels to be wanted this much.
I should be turned off by it, but I can hardly breathe when I look at him.
Especially when he has this suggestive smile on his face.
“I don’t feel sexy right now, Ryle. I worked all day, I’m exhausted, I
smell like sweat and probably taste like dust. If you give me a little while to
shower first, I might feel sexy enough to have sex with you.”
He’s nodding feverishly before I’m even finished speaking. “Shower.
Take all the time you need. I’ll wait.”
I push him away from me and close the front door. He follows me to
the bedroom and I tell him to wait on the bed for me.
Luckily, I cleaned my bedroom last night. Normally I have clothes lying
around everywhere, books piled up on my nightstand, shoes and bras that
don’t quite make it to my closet. But tonight it’s clean. My bed is even
made up, complete with the ugly, quilted throw pillows my grandmother
passed down to every person in our family.
I make a quick glance around the room, just to make sure nothing
embarrassing will catch his eye. He takes a seat on my bed and I watch as
he scans the room. I stand in the doorway to my bathroom and try to give
him one last out.
“You say this will make it stop, but I’m warning you right now, Ryle. I’m
like a drug. If you have sex with me tonight, it’s only going to make things
worse for you. But once is all you’re getting. I refuse to become one of the
many girls you use to—how did you word it that night? 
Satisfy
your 
needs
?”
He leans back on his elbows. “You aren’t that kind of girl, Lily. And I’m
not the kind of guy who needs someone more than once. We have nothing
to worry about.”

---

I close the door behind me, wondering how in the hell this guy talked
me into this.
It’s the scrubs. The scrubs are my weakness. It has nothing to do with
him.
I wonder if there’s a way he could leave them on during the sex?
• • •
I’ve never taken more than half an hour to get ready, but it’s almost an
hour before I’m finished in the bathroom. I shaved more parts of me than
was probably necessary, and then spent a good twenty minutes having a
freak-out, and had to talk myself out of opening the door and telling him
to leave. But now that my hair is dry and I’m cleaner than I’ve ever been, I
think I might be able to do this. I can totally have a one-night stand. I’m
twenty-three years old.
I open the door and he’s still there on my bed. I’m a little disappointed
to see that his scrub top is on the floor, but I don’t see his pants, so he
must still be wearing them. He’s under the covers, though, so I can’t tell.
I close the door behind me and wait for him to roll over and look at
me, but he doesn’t. I take a few steps closer, and that’s when I notice he’s
snoring.
Not just a light—
oh I just fell asleep
—snore. It’s a middle of REM sleep
kind of snore.
“Ryle?” I whisper. He doesn’t even budge when I shake him.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I drop down onto the bed, not even caring if I wake him. I just spent an
entire hour getting ready for him after busting my ass today, and this is
how he treats this night?
I can’t be mad at him, though, especially seeing how peaceful he looks.
I can’t imagine working a forty-eight-hour shift. Plus, my bed is really
comfortable. It’s so comfortable, it could make a person fall right back to
sleep after a full night of rest. 
I should have warned him about that.
I check the time on my phone and it’s almost 10:30 p.m. I put the
phone on silent and then lie down next to him. His phone is on the pillow
next to his head, so I grab it and swipe up the camera option. I hold his
phone above us and make sure my cleavage looks good and pushed
together. I snap a picture so he’ll at least see what he missed out on.

---

I turn off the light and laugh to myself, because I’m falling asleep next
to a half-naked man that I’ve never even kissed.
• • •
I can feel his fingers trailing up my arm before I even open my eyes. I
force back a tired smile and pretend I’m still sleeping. His fingers trail
over my shoulder and stop at my collarbone, just before they reach my
neck. I have a small tattoo there that I got in college. It’s a simple outline
of a heart that’s slightly open at the top. I can feel his fingers circle around
the tattoo, and then he leans forward and presses his lips against it. I
squeeze my eyes shut even tighter.
“Lily,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around my waist. I moan a little,
trying to wake up, and then roll onto my back so that I can look up at him.
When I open my eyes, he’s staring down at me. I can tell by the way the
sunlight shines through my windows and across his face that it’s not even
seven a.m. yet.
“I am the most despicable man you’ve ever met. Am I right?”
I laugh, and nod a little. “Pretty damn close.”
He smiles and then brushes my hair off my face. He leans forward and
presses his lips to my forehead, and I hate that he just did that. Now 
I’ll
be
the one plagued with sleepless nights, because I want to put this memory
on repeat.
“I have to go,” he says. “I’m really late. But one—I’m sorry. Two—I’ll
never do this again. This is the last you’ll hear from me, I promise. And
three—I’m 
really
sorry. You have no idea.”
I force a smile, but I want to frown because I absolutely hated his
number two. I actually don’t mind if he tries this again, but then I remind
myself that we want two different things from life. And it’s good that he
fell asleep and we never even kissed, because if I would have had sex with
him while he was wearing scrubs, I would have been the one showing up at
his door on my knees, begging for more.
This is good. Rip the Band-Aid off and let him leave.
“Have a nice life, Ryle. I wish you all the success in the world.”
He doesn’t respond to my goodbye. He silently stares down at me with
somewhat of a frown, and then says, “Yeah. You too, Lily.”

---

Then he rolls away from me and stands up. I can’t even look at him
right now, so I roll onto my side so that my back is to him. I listen as he
puts his shoes on and then reaches for his phone. There’s a long pause
before he moves again, and I know it’s because he was staring at me. I
squeeze my eyes shut until I hear the slam of the front door.
My face immediately grows warm, and I refuse to allow myself to mope.
I force myself off the bed. I have work to do. I can’t be upset that I’m not
enough to make a guy want to remap all of his life goals.
Besides, I have my 
own
life goals to worry about now. And I’m really
excited about them. So much so, that I really don’t have time for a guy in
my life, anyway.
No time.
Nope.
Busy girl, here.
I am a brave and bold businesswoman with zero fucks to give for men in
scrubs.

---