Not Enough

78

Evander

The next few days are absolute hell.

Not only are we here in the state of Nevada—a desert with weather that is almost never predictable, with these past few nights being nothing but rain and thunder and a bit of lightning, enabling my ability to go practically anywhere that isn't in this damn casino—I've been left completely alone with no one to comfort me but myself. And of course, if I'm alone with nothing surrounding me but silence, my brain inevitably begins to pester me over dumb shit.

The rest of Sunday—after I finally realized my feelings for Nya—all I could do was pace around my room, trying to convince myself that it had to be something else, there had to be some other factor at play, that there was no fucking way on Earth that I could possibly have feelings for her of all people. And I could practically say the same for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.

All I could do was sit isolated in my room, basking in my own denial in hopes that it would come true. Hell, I even tried to use the fact that I haven't really known her long to help convince myself. But my wishes of hoping, begging the universe for me not to like her never came true.

I couldn't stop thinking about her and I, what things could be like, what they have been like, what I want things to be like—I almost swear that I'm on the borderline of insanity for thinking about it for so long.

As fucking embarrassing as it is to say it, I've never had romantic feelings for anyone before, and I have never been in any sort of romantic relationship. Sure, when I was a horny teenager going through puberty there were plenty of women who I had small crushes on, maybe even a little fling with some, but those feelings and relationships are nothing compared to what I feel now.

I realize that the reason I was so confused about it at first—after her and I had just barely met and were beginning to work together on this assignment—was because I didn't have anything to compare these feelings to, anything to help me understand them. And of course, with the unknown comes fear; I couldn't help but be afraid and self-conscious about them.

But now that I've really let myself sit and think about it, I've finally realized what seems to be true, and I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure out.

I had always heard things in movies, shows, maybe even books about what romantic attraction actually feels like, and after connecting the dots I finally opened my eyes—as well as my mind—to finally accept what I've basically known all along, even though all this time I've wanted nothing but to avoid any type of confrontation with it.

I like her. Like, really like her.

Not just some bullshit like wanting to be her friend, or just wanting to hook up, solely finding her body pretty, thinking that her physical attributes are what attract me to her. No, I want to be more than just her friend, more than just a coworker.

I don't want to hook up with her just because I like how her pussy feels, or the fact that she has what I dare to say is a perfectly sculpted body, but because I want to be intimate with her. I want to feel her bare skin against mine, her soft lips against mine, to feel every beat of her heart, her body heat radiate against me, the tickle of her hair as her curls brush against my skin, listen to her angelic moans that acknowledge how good I can make her feel.

Even then, I don't want to be close with her just for the sex, either. I want to do things any normal "couple" would do; shit like watching movies, cuddling—which I guess we've already done, but not for the reasons and intentions that I would want—going out on simple drives, and dumb shit like that.