Love, No Strings Attached.
an excerpt

There are two excerpts here. I'm not sure where they go, but it should give an idea of things. PG-13. Unedited, raw.
***
Ted, as he liked to be called though his name was something else that I don't particularly remember owned a motorcycle, a six pack and a nice tight butt. He also liked to make me upset by either teasing me mercilessly or making prejudiced comments about my friends.

"Anna is so fat that I think a two ton truck would get tipped from her weight." That was his comment on a particular date where we'd gone to a club with my friends. Anna was on the dance floor out of hearing range.

"You better not get fat or I'll leave you. I don't want Jello pudding to ask for their Jiggler's back."

Anna was a sweet person who far from deserved these comments. She was sometimes a little sassy, but with that kind of confidence and warmth that enveloped the airspace around her.

Her dancing was better than mine and the people she was dancing with weren't bad looking.

"C'mon," I begged, "let's dance."

After some reluctant stepping her finally let me. I was aware of my awkward heels as I danced on the floor. I wasn't used to them. He looked everywhere but me. I objected. "They dance like this in my hometown. Just ask my friends." I didn't want to upset him so accepted the comment, even though it bugged me.

I was tired of this idea and tried to escape the dance floor. I wanted to go home. I didn't like clubs much in the first place. I told myself this over and over again. The loud music and lights were starting the hurt my eyes. I repeated this to myself.

Meanwhile he weaved in and out of the crowd, finally catching up with me. He greeted Anna with a charming smile and raised up his glass of vodka. "I hope you find a job soon." He nodded towards Anna who said thank you.

I excused myself and said I had work soon and had a headache.

Outside of the club once we got to his car he said, "You wanted to embarrass me, didn't you?"

"I have a headache." I repeated this more than three times. I loved him. I really thought I did. He was always sweet, especially after we fought. I thought I had to put up with these kinds of things to be in a relationship at all.

"You friend Anna is strange. How can she live with herself looking like that. And those two guys she was with are eyesores."

I repeated the phrase again and again, blaming it on work I needed to do tomorrow. I began to think about the stacks of paper. I didn't object--I was too tired, and his words were increasing that feeling. I had to remind myself that I loved him a lot. It had to be work that was giving me this headache.

He invited himself into my apartment. I was too tired to fight him. When I objected and said that I needed time by myself he asked if I loved him. I was afraid to fight. By the time I finally got to my apartment it was two am. My headache was getting increasingly worse.

I took a shower and got ready for bed with the intention of kicking him out. The night gown was a flannel night gown. One I liked to lounge around with in my slippers. It reached the floor.

"I really need to go to sleep now," I said.

"Alright after I kiss you."

His kiss was soft, sweet and tender. It almost made up for the fact that he'd said so many mean things about Anna in the car. I felt bad that I'd mistrusted him. I pulled away and repeated it again, but he didn't stop.

"Do you want to?" He held a condom in one hand.

I said no. I said no three times and retracted from his touch. He wouldn't stop. My headache was so bad that on the fourth time I said yes. I compromised who I was in that moment. And it was my first time. He couldn't see me. I don't think he really cared all that much. He only caressed me enough to satisfy his own needs. He would tell me to do things, but I was so very tired. He rutted like an uninterested dog against a leg. My eyes teared softly. I tried to hide my face so he wouldn't see them.

I fell asleep after, wanting so much to escape from the memory. I didn't want to remember his cliche words, "The way you danced... I know you wanted me." It hurt. I hurt. I cried in the morning too. I tried to keep the illusion of love again, but it was muddled and confused. I knew I should forgive him. I'd said yes.
***
"It's not really that..." I said to him. He was sipping his morning coffee. I'd learned over the course of the year we'd been living as roommates that he was more in tune with the world when he drank coffee, especially on chilly days where he wore a fuzzy robe downstairs.

"Then what is it?" he asked.

"I don't understand you. You know, why would you feel that way. I mean you didn't--" I cut off my own words. I wasn't sure how to phrase it.

"Don't obsess over it, it was just something I said. It doesn't matter that much does it?"

"Doesn't it matter to you?" I asked this with the intention of trying to understand those words again.

"Do you want me to take you on a date, then? I wouldn't mind that."

He was clearly still a little sleepy. The snow was thick outside, so I didn't see how he could think that a date was possible. Not that I was actually entertaining the idea.

I wanted to ask if he was playing with me. I thought men liked to give flowers and fight for a woman's affections. But he was sitting here sipping coffee slowly, casually asking if a date was ok, if I wanted to go? It was hardly romantic.

"I'll tell you the truth. I know you don't particularly feel the same way. In fact, if you wish, you can divorce me for breaking our agreement. But I am willing to gamble a little. I am willing to wait for you to feel the same way as I do. I'm not going to force you. I'm not that stupid."

I could only sputter, "But why?"

He shrugged, lessening the effect of his words a little. "I like seeing you eat your breakfast with that listless look on your face with your head tilted to one side in the morning. I like to see your face light up when you play with your ferrets. I like it when you are talking softly to your Ball Python. I even like the little messes you make trying to organize your pretend advertisement projects. And mostly, I like talking to you. I miss that when I'm on trips."

His eyes were softening a little. The corners of his mouth were raising upward...

I felt myself retract from him. I knew it was wrong to feel this way. I recognized the emotions. I was scared. He'd been my friend for so long, what if he was like them? What if I was stuck with one of the men that would abuse me and use me, not caring about who I was? And why wasn't he chasing after me. It just didn't make sense.

"Why don't you want anything from me? I don't understand."

"I don't think you need to. I just love you."

I dreamed up things he might do in this state of illusion towards me. He would stock the house with roses. He would steal a kiss in my sleep. But I knew these actions weren't in character with him. It wasn't something he'd do. He was more likely to give up architecture which he loved since he was little, than to steal a kiss from an unwilling girl.

"I'll let you make the decision what to do with me. I would like a chance if you're willing to let me take you out on a date. Today would be a great day to go on a date--but there's no pressure. Whenever you feel ready."

With that he finished his scrambled eggs and toast. He got ready for work in his suit and tie. I couldn't believe he was going to drive in that weather. I watched him leave from the window. My breath frosted against the window pane. He was holding out his hands catching the clumps of snow. He put his hands into his pocket and got into the car. He started it, but after a few minutes, got out and then disappeared into the back of the house. He started shoveling the snow out from around the car.

He finally drove away about twenty minutes later.