Something is Wrong With Me

ERIC:

It’s Friday night, and Erica’s intentions are obvious. She wants me at Leonard’s so she doesn’t have to spend the long weekend with him.

Leonard rarely goes to the office on Saturdays. Never on Sundays. And Erica? She doesn’t work on weekends either—their company only opens on unavoidable occasions.

Still, I preferred Leonard to be home. I’d be over the moon if he stayed indoors instead of disappearing like he did last week when Erica was at his place. She told us about it and had asked if she could come home, but Lucas told her to stay put. Leonard might have gone to his mother’s, or somewhere else entirely. Either way, he would be watching or plotting to lure the other Erica in.

My shower started and ended in a millisecond. Trust me, it is possible—when you’ve got somewhere exciting to be, you can be faster than a kid running off to Grandma’s for the summer.

I reached Leonard’s house, heart hammering with anticipation to see him. The living room was empty. He was nowhere at all, except for one certainty that he’d be in his room. But I couldn’t knock him out.

Disappointed, I climbed the stairs to my room. But the moment my hand touched the doorknob, his door opened, and I felt his eyes on me.

“Erica?”

His voice slid down my spine like ice.

I turned. He was at this doorway, dressed like he was heading out. A small travel bag hung from his hand.

He closed the space between us, eyes sharp. “Erica?” he said again, eyes piercing into mine, penetrating my soul.

“Yes?” My voice barely makes a sound.

That stare—it wasn’t just looking at me, it was peeling me open.

But I was melting. Instead of trembling, I was blushing.

“You are here,” he said, strangely calm. “I waited.”

“I...I was caught in traffic.”

Please, buy it.

He smirked.

I knew I was a terrible salesman.

“Going somewhere?” I asked, trying to steer him away from my lie.

Obviously, he waited for Erica to announce his trip.

“I was,” he said, sliding a hand into his pocket. “But I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh…?”

“I will cancel,” he said, smiling more with his eyes than his lips. “Since you are here, let’s get to know each other better.”

“Excuse me?”

Erica had told me they’d never had any reason to know each other. Why now?

Think, Eric!

But how could I, when Leonard wasn’t sparing me from his hot stares?

“Should we talk over dinner?”

Like a date?

“Like food. Home-made. I am sure you can make us something,” he added, as if reading my mind.

Right. Cook for him. While I would love to, I didn’t want to. Not when it felt more like an order rather than a request.

“Or we could eat out,” I said. “I am exhausted. Long day at work.”

“It wasn’t that hectic,” he huffed, turning away. “You can manage.”

This wasn’t the Leonard I missed. This was the one Erica always complained about.

*************

The kitchen was exactly as I’d left it a week ago, groceries untouched. Seeing that means no extra shopping; it should’ve made me happy. But it didn’t. I hated to see that there were enough ingredients to prepare him a nice meal. He didn’t deserve a chef’s touch.

Still, I cooked. He sat across from me, eating like it was his right.

“You don’t look thrilled to cook for me today,” he said, amusingly, biting into a steamed tomato.

Something was fishy about his attitude. He was clearly pushing my buttons on purpose, like Erica did something I didn’t know, and he was trying to get back at her.

“You seem to have a lot to say,” I said.

“Oh, I do.” He dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “We should get started.”

The questions began. Erica’s history. Her hobbies. Her education…things he knew before now. He is Erica’s employer; they are in her goddamn file.

I didn’t flop, though. I had answers to his questions. Erica had drilled her profile into me, the only wise thing she had done. But with each answer, Leonard looked a little unimpressed.

“Is this your idea of getting to know me?” I asked after a long, mind-numbing session of answering his questionnaire. “Don’t you have something creative?”

His eyes darkened. “Creative like…how you joyfully chased dragonflies at your mother’s burial? With Nathan.”

Nathan. Damn.

I hated stories about Nathan. I never listened properly when Erica told them.

I forced a laugh. “Yes, I know. Bad me. But…I love dragonflies. They’re over our pond. I could chase after them all day.”

“I see. Pond huh?”

“Yes. Pond…Dragonflies...Everywhere.”

And then his whole face changed—smiling, proud, almost smug.

That’s when it hit me. This wasn’t a conversation. It was an interrogation. Leonard suspected I wasn’t Erica… and I had just confirmed it.

Shît me.

I can’t run away to call Erica or Lucas. They shouldn’t know about it. Otherwise, I am finished.

If Leonard had finally found out, I would wait and see his reaction. From there, I would know what step to take.

“I will be in my room,” he said, standing.

What? How could he just leave? Shouldn’t he be confronting me?

Or was I overthinking? Perhaps he knows nothing.

“And Erica,” he added, “thanks for cooking. I hope you’ll do it often.”

*************

I couldn’t sleep. I rolled restlessly in bed. Leonard knows. We are ruined.

Finally, I called Lucas and confessed everything.

“No, Eric! It was butterflies. Butterflies! And it was in a garden. Mr. Gerux doesn’t even have a pond!”

My stomach dropped.

The story became vivid at once.

Erica and Nathan first met at her mother’s funeral. Nathan had come with the Hays family. Ditching the mourners, they ran into the garden, chasing butterflies, having so much fun like her mother wasn’t lying in a casket somewhere.

You wouldn’t blame the young Erica. Her mother had no impact on her. There was nothing memorable to say about her mother except that she was always quiet. So quiet that everyone took her to be mute.

“This isn’t good,” Lucas muttered.

“I know. Where is Erica?”

“Went to Nathan.”

“Perfect timing.”

“We need to fix Leonard first,” he added, reading my mood.

“Sure. But I got nothing.”

Lucas went silent. Thinking.

“I’ve got one.”

Here it was: I’d rush to a store, buy a sleeping pill, and make sure Leonard took it. Once he was out, Erica and Lucas would come in. Lucas would tap into his surveillance, then he and I would slip out. Erica would stay behind. In the morning, Leonard would wake to find her there—and everything he believed would start to fall apart.

“I will contact Erica,” Lucas said. “And be careful. If you are under surveillance. He would be watching your every move.”

**************

At 2 a.m., I was in the kitchen, crushing sleeping pills into a wine with my head buried in the fridge to hide from cameras.

“Leonard?” I called at his door, carrying two glasses of wine.

“…”

“Want to drink with me? I’m bored.”

“…”

I tried the knob. It was unlocked.

I walked in. He wasn’t in bed.

“Leonard?”

“Looking for me?”

I spun around. He stood naked. Stack naked. Fresh from the shower, water still sliding over his body.

My pulse slammed. The glass cups, still magically intact in my hands.

“Brought those for me?” he smirked, stepping closer. His body…his rod, separated from mine by the thin space the glass cups on my chest occupied.

He took the glass cup meant for him, drank.

Mission accomplished. But I still couldn’t move.

Smiling, he took the other glass, drank…then set the glasses back in my hands—his fingers curling around mine.

He went to his closet, pulled out a pair of pants. I watched him slide into them. I turned as he walked to the door and swung it open.

“Good night, Erica,” he said.

“…”

“Or would you like to sleep with me?”

“Huh?”

Imaginations crept in. Scenes of me riding his stallion côck, losing myself in every thrust, filled my head. Heat coiled low in my belly, climbing up my chest until it formed a lump in my throat. I swallowed hard, and when I did, the sharp sound caught his ear.

“Was that a yes?”

“What?”

“We have kissed. Doing more wouldn’t hurt.”

The memory of the kiss still burned through me. If just a kiss could leave me reeling, what would his cock do to me?

“Erica?” He called. That tone…it was a clear warning.

Take your horny self to safety, Eric!

But I didn’t. I waited.

He nodded and shut the door.

The sound drifted in like a soft wind. The meaning of standing in a locked room with Leonard, aching for something far deeper than lust, bubbled in my mind, sending a thrill straight to my crotch.

“You should’ve left when you had the chance,” he said, stepping closer.

“I didn’t want to.”

“I know. But Erica would want you to.”

“She isn’t here.”

His smirk deepened. Then, I realise what I had just said. But before I could retrace my stupidity, his hand slid around my neck, pulling me into a deep, engulfing kiss—the glass cups shattering from my hand to the floor.

Unbothered, I angled my neck to the side, granting him full access to my lips as I sank into the slow, consuming rhythm of his mouth.