“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I said when I concluded that it would be best to stick to the rules.
I took time showing him around the house as I made my way to the spare bedroom I used as an office. Walking over to the curtains, I pulled them shut before turning to the adjacent closet. The room was pretty scarce aside from my desk, chair, and lamp. The lack of furnishings allowed me to use the space for my morning yoga, which I could have gone for right about then. I needed to find my Zen.
I turned back to see Joel looking around the room, sizing up the empty space.
“How long have you lived here?”
“A little over six months,” I responded while trying to wiggle the games from underneath some bags. The bags shifted as if they wanted to come down, too, but I was being lazy and continued pulling the games while trying to shuffle the bags back toward the wall.
“Eeep,” I squealed as I ducked down in avoidance of the bag that teetered on the ledge. After a second without the bag hitting the top of my head, I risked looking up. Joel had pushed the bags up and pulled the remaining games out before taking a step back. Removing the other game from my hands, he folded his arms around the varied boxes and stepped aside, waiting for me to lead the way.
Before we left the room, he said, “We should probably get any flashlights, candles, matches, and batteries you have around the house. It’s easier to find those things while the lights are still on.”
***
The power didn’t go out that night, which was how we found ourselves relaxing on the couch watching a Blu-ray of my favorite assassin movie. It was one that was popular when it came out, so when I suggested the movie, I was sure he’d already seen it, but if he had, he never let on.
Before the movie began, I retired to the bedroom to change into a decent set of pajamas that covered every bit of skin that he could find tempting. The only flesh that showed were my feet and anything from my collarbone up. Joel apparently slept in less clothing, so when I returned to the living room, he was stripped down to his briefs and my brother’s Ramones shirt.
With long legs outstretched, Joel sat comfortably pressed into the corner of the sectional that acted like an island. I sat dead center with my legs folded in, my hands resting between the creases created by my pretzled legs.
I interspersed looks of Joel’s body laid out across the couch with watching the movie. Luckily, this was one of those movies that didn’t feel the need to mix romance or sex with the killing; I didn’t need any more thoughts of sex besides those that were rotating on a conveyor belt in my mind. If Joel was or had been thinking about what happened between us the night before, he didn’t show it. In fact, he watched the movie as if it were the first time, not so much as looking at the small baggie of rationed crackers that sat between us.
It was only when his hand accidentally brushed mine, while attempting to pull a few crackers from the bag, that he finally looked at me. Our eyes locked for a brief moment. A moment that felt like an eternity as light from the TV flickered across his eyes, making his emerald eyes glow. In the light, his eyes mimicked the transition of fall leaves—how the sharp green shifts to yellow, orange, and red before they drift to the ground. When he looked away, I fought everything in me that encouraged me to reach out and touch his face, pulling his eyes back to mine so I could read their depths.
That intense moment was the only one we shared, and soon the end credits were rolling across the screen. I wasn’t ready for the night to end, but the draw of his body was too intense to stay out in the living room. Any longer and I wasn’t sure what I was capable of. The temptation was too strong, and I felt my will weakening with every hour that my body felt him near.
“Here, I’m going to get you some pillows and blankets,” I said, unfolding myself and rising to my feet. His body stilled, and he was unusually quiet as he watched me leave the room. I returned with more blankets and pillows than one person could possibly need, and as expected, he piped up as soon as he saw me, blankets in hand.
“You know it’s hot as shit, right? A simple sheet would have sufficed.”
“I thought it was nice to give you options. A simple thank-you would suffice,” I replied mockingly as I dumped the bundle on the opposite side of the couch. He worked through the pile, pulling out a couple sheets and the pillow that rested on top and shifted what was left to the other side of the couch. I watched as he set his pillow in place and worked the sheet in his hands. He gripped the edge, his arms smooth and fast as he shook the sheet open. He tucked the sheets into the crevices of the couch, like one would do a bed, and then proceeded to take off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I yelled, shocked. It wasn’t until the words left my throat that I realized how hysterical I sounded, shouting at him about exposing something I had not only seen, but touched, licked, and kissed. My legs squished together, and the soft hum that had been building since the movie started was now a raging pulse egged on by tightly clenched thighs. Joel stopped lifting the hem of his shirt. With a movie star smile showing a brief glimpse of his perfectly aligned white teeth, he said, “Tell you what, I’ll keep my underwear on if you don’t freak out every time you see me without a shirt on.”
“You would be keeping your underwear on anyway.”
“Not usually. I find underwear constricting while I sleep,” he said as he proceeded lifting his shirt. I didn’t say anything else. I wanted to stay and watch his muscles yawn as if he’d spent the whole day in slumber and they were just now waking up, but I didn’t. I was satisfied enough by the brief glimpse of skin above the waistband of his briefs. Memorizing how the muscles of his abs faded to a smooth expanse of skin that angled into a hard V before dropping into depths hidden by his underwear.
Making my way to the bedroom, I yelled, “Goodnight.” I briefly paused at the door, wondering what I should do: open or closed? Usually I slept with the door closed, creating another barrier for possible intruders (I watched a lot of movies), but closing Joel off in the other room felt rude and distancing. It wasn’t exactly an invitation, leaving my door open, but it also wasn’t closing a door—literally and figuratively.
I danced around the darkness of the room, stumbling for the edge of the bed to use as a guide, leading me to the left side of the bed. My hand padded across the rumpled sheets until my left legs bumped the end table alerting me that I’d reached the headboard. Climbing atop the bed, I settled into the soft mattress, pulling the thin sheet up to my neck.
Sleep didn’t come easy—thoughts of the night before haunted me (more like the things I didn’t remember were haunting me). I shifted back and forth across the mattress like a dog looking for the just-right angle to lie down, except there wasn’t one, and the smell of him still lingered on the sheets, making it harder to claim peace.
After what felt like hours and after finally giving in to the urge to pull the pillow, drenched in his scent, tight against my chest, I drifted off into a fitful sleep that did nothing more for my tired mind than staying awake would. At least if I stayed awake I might have been able to get some work done so I wasn’t completely behind when everyone reemerged post-storm.
Chapter Four