want anyone to know. I just hate seeing the pity and the judgment staring back at me.’
‘You don’t have to go down there. I’ll get the key by myself. So, does that mean you don’t want to leave the hotel? I was kind of hoping we could see a few more things before the flight.’
She heaves a deep sigh and looks up at me with an apology in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just not that kind of person.’
I take a seat next to her on the bed. ‘What kind of person?’
‘The kind of person who seeks adventure. I prefer staying at home, reading a book, watching a movie. I’m boring.’
‘That’s not boring. I’d much rather stay home and read a book or learn a new piece on the guitar than go out drinking or tearing shit up with my buddies.’
‘You never talk about your buddies.’
‘They’re just buddies. We’re not BFFs like you and Rina. I lost my best friend four years ago.’
She reaches up and runs her fingers through my damp hair. ‘I’ll be your best friend.’
*****
By the time we’re packed and we’ve hauled our stuff to the new junior suite, I’m ready for a nice, big lunch, but I’m tired of room service. With Mikki’s desire to not leave the room, I have to be creative. I wait until she leaves to use the bathroom, then I call down to concierge and explain what I need. Anthony is eager to accommodate my request.
‘I ordered lunch.’ I pat the sofa cushion for her to sit with me while we wait for our food. ‘You look hot in those anime pajamas.’
She sits next to me and curls her legs under her as she reaches for the remote in my hand. She snatches it away and begins flipping through the channels until she settles on a cooking channel where a buff guy who looks more like a Marine than a chef is explaining how to butcher a whole salmon into filets.
‘You think that guy is hot or are you thinking of becoming a chef?’
She looks at me like I’m crazy. ‘He is kind of hot. And, no, I’m not going to be a chef. I just like watching cooking shows. It’s an art, but it’s so precise; so controllable.’ She sets down the remote between us and stares at it for a moment. ‘It’s not like poetry.’
‘Do you write poetry?’
She nods then turns her attention back to the TV. ‘I wrote a poem about you.’
‘Me? When?’
‘This morning. After you left the room to get the key.’
‘I was gone, like, twenty minutes. You wrote a poem in twenty minutes?’
She shrugs and leans back, propping her feet up on the coffee table. ‘It’s not finished and it’s not any good. Maybe I’ll show it to you in a few years.’
My stomach flips inside me; not because she wrote a poem and not because she’s going to make me wait that long. But, because she’s implying that she’ll be around in a few years.
‘I’ll wait as long as it takes.’ I kiss her cheek and she giggles.
‘Get your pajamas on,’ she says, pushing me away. ‘We’re not leaving this room today.’
‘I don’t sleep in pajamas.’ She eyes me suspiciously and I chuckle. ‘I’m just being honest. I sleep in my boxers and I doubt you want me walking around here like that.’
She shakes her head. ‘I feel bad that you’re sitting here in jeans and I’m in my comfy Death Note pjs.’
‘Death Note?’
‘It’s my favorite manga series.’
‘I’ve never understood the difference between anime and manga.’
‘Manga is like a comic book and anime is an animated series. Death Note was turned into an anime series, which was excellent, but I prefer the original manga series.’
She launches into an excited explanation of the plot and characters, which is actually pretty fascinating. The knock at the door startles both of us and I hurriedly answer it to get the stuff I ordered. I tip the guy generously and shoo him away so I can roll the table into the sitting area myself. Mikki watches with a skeptical smile on her face as I approach.
‘Aren’t you just the humble rich guy? Doing the servant’s job?’
‘I have a surprise for you.’ She removes her feet from the coffee table so I can set down the covered plates.
‘An engagement ring in a glass of champagne?’
‘Not quite. Do you really think I’d go for a cliché like that?’
‘Just tell me what it is.’
I stick my fingers in the ventilation holes on the top of the domed lids and she watches anxiously. ‘I had them make us something special.’
‘It better not be muffins.’
I lift the lids on both plates and she doubles over with laughter. Her pizza is baked in the shape of a bunny with slices of red and yellow bell peppers sticking out of the bunny’s tail as if it’s on fire: burninbushytail. My pizza is baked in the shape of an eyeball, with green bell peppers fanned out to form a circular iris, and it looks as if the pizza has been stepped on.
‘Crushed eyes,’ she says, giggling as she points at my pizza.
‘crushedeyes’ was my Twitter username at the time I found Mikki on Twitter. It was an inside joke Jordan and I had. Whenever we went to restaurants, we’d ask the server if we could get crushed eyes in our drinks. Most of the time, they wouldn’t notice and they’d just nod in agreement. But some of them would look at us like we were crazy or ask us to repeat the request, then we’d ask for crushed ice to make them think they were hearing things. It was so stupid, but it made us laugh every time.
But as I watch Mikki trying to compose herself I realize it’s no longer an inside joke just between Jordan and me. In the process of finding the girl I fell in love with three years ago, I found my best friend.
I eat half of my pizza – the half with the olives as bunny eyes –and Crush devours his pizza after pretending to find a hair in the sauce. We watch the cooking channel for a couple of hours while snuggling on the sofa. I even respond to a few texts from Rina and Meaghan, though Rina’s comments about Crush’s hotness just piss me off and I stop responding to her.
As I lie with my head on his chest, I begin to have interesting thoughts about what Crush looks like underneath all this clothing and the things I’d like to do to him. I want to taste the smooth skin on his chest. I’ve heard songs and read books about sex, but I’ve never been able to imagine having sex with someone I actually know. I’ve had fantasies about celebrities and one particularly hot guy in my Women’s Studies class. Okay, maybe he appeared hotter than he actually was because he was taking Women’s Studies. But Crush . . . there’s no denying it. The guy oozes sexiness and he is definitely the hottest guy I’ve ever made out with.
‘You can change out of that clothes. It won’t make me uncomfortable,’ I say this as casually as I can, keeping my eyes focused on the TV.
He chuckles. ‘It’s okay. I don’t think you can handle this.’
‘What?’
‘This,’ he says, running his fingers down the length of his body. ‘You can’t handle this.’
‘Oh, please.’ I push off his chest so I can sit up and glare at him.
‘Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
I shake my head as he gets up and heads for the bathroom. ‘Wait.’ He turns around and looks at me. ‘You can use the bedroom.’
Up until now, even though we slept in the same bed last night, it’s been assumed that he would be sleeping on the sofa bed tonight. He mentioned it earlier when he propped up his suitcase and guitar case next to the sofa bed. I didn’t say anything because I knew it was just his way of showing me that he wouldn’t pressure me to sleep in the same bed again. He would wait for me to ask.
He nods as he heads for the bedroom to undress. I feel like I’m being really bossy with him, but I know he won’t do anything unless I ask him to. I’m ready to start asking for more.
He walks out of the bedroom with his head bowed a little, but I can still glimpse the bashful smile on his face. ‘You happy now?’
Oh, God. My mouth instantly begins
to salivate at the sight of his abs. I swallow hard and his expression gets a bit serious.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, standing next to the sofa, so close I can smell the scent of his skin mixed with the freshly laundered scent of his gray boxer briefs.
I nod, pulling my legs up on the sofa to sit cross-legged. ‘Sit.’
He laughs, but he doesn’t sit down. ‘Are you getting a kick out of telling me what to do?’
I can’t take my eyes off the deep creases that run diagonally from his hips toward his . . . bulge.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he repeats the question and I nod again.
‘Yes.’ I tear my eyes away from his body and look him in the eyes. ‘I’m okay. And, no, I don’t like telling you what to do. I’d rather you just do what you want to do for a little while. Is that okay?’
He looks a little confused by this request. ‘What do you mean?’
I take a deep breath, then I stand up so we’re nose to nose. ‘I want you to take the initiative. I know you’ll stop when I need you to stop. I just want to feel like you want this as much as I do.’
His hand lands softly on my hip as his lips barely touch mine. ‘Oh, I want this. You don’t have to doubt that or let it make you do something you don’t want to do.’
I cradle his face in my hands and as I look him in the eyes. ‘I want this, too.’
He kisses my forehead and takes my hand so he can lay a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist. ‘Do you think you’d feel more comfortable if we showered first?’
I smile as I realize he knows me better than I know myself. ‘Yes.’
‘You want to go first?’
‘No.’
‘Okay, I’ll go first.’ He lets go of my waist and turns to leave, but I grab his hand to stop him.
‘I don’t want you to go first either. I want to go . . . together.’
He doesn’t ask me if I’m sure, and I’m so grateful for that. I need him to trust that I know my own boundaries. Though I’m scared shitless at the idea of showering with him, I’m also really excited to do something so normal and sensual with him, knowing that he’s not expecting to have sex in the shower. We’re just going to get clean.
He tightens his grip on my hand and I allow him to lead me to the bathroom. On the way there, I stop at my suitcase to get my toiletries. Once we’re standing in the bathroom, I begin to feel really awkward, like maybe this was a bad idea.
‘Can you get undressed first, then I’ll decide if I still want to do this?’ He nods and attempts to close the bathroom door, but I stop him. ‘Leave it open, please.’
He leaves the door wide open, then he holds out his arms. ‘Come here.’
I hug him and he holds me gently as he rubs my back. We stand like this for a while until I feel more relaxed. Finally, I let go and nod for him to continue. He places my toiletries inside the shower then turns it on, holding his hand under the water until it’s the right temperature. When he turns around, he flashes me the most adorable half-smile as he reaches for the waistband of his boxers.
He slides them down slowly and I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until he stands upright and looks me in the eye. I let out the breath I’m holding, then I reach for the bottom of my shirt and quickly pull it over my head. His eyes flit down to my chest then return to my face. I close my eyes, pushing out all the dark thoughts clawing at the periphery of my mind, then I push down my pajama bottoms and my panties.
I open my eyes and he’s still looking into my eyes. ‘You’re beautiful.’
He pushes the shower curtain back and I take one step forward, then another, until I’m right next to him. I step inside the shower and the water is the perfect temperature. I get under the water to make room for him to climb in. Once he’s inside, I’m hit with flashes of happy memories of running through the sprinklers in the yard. We’re just playing in the water. That’s all.
I try to keep my gaze from falling below her face, but it’s like trying to keep a lead weight from sinking in water. She said she wanted me to do what I wanted, so I allow myself one glance down the length of her body, then I meet her gaze again. But she’s not looking at my face. Her eyes are transfixed, completely focused on my crotch. I wonder if this is like a victim of a robbery being shown the gun they were robbed with. I want to cover myself up or get out of here, then she holds out her hand.
‘Come here,’ she says, repeating my words back at me.
I take her hand and she gently pulls me toward her. We stand under the water, holding each other, for a while. Her body trembles a little despite the warmth of the water. Finally, she pulls away, keeping her eyes focused on mine.
‘Can you give me my shampoo?’
I reach behind me and retrieve the shampoo I set down on the small ledge of the bathtub. I hand it to her and she smiles as she squeezes some into her hands.
‘Can I do that?’
She nods as she smears the shampoo onto the top of her head and turns around. I’ve shampooed plenty of girls’ hair. It’s just something that happens when you have shower sex and I’ve had plenty of that. But not knowing whether this is a prelude to sex makes this even more sensual and comforting. I massage the shampoo into her hair, gently rubbing my fingertips in circles over her scalp to help her relax. Her shoulders fall slightly as her muscles slacken.
The eternal struggle begins inside me. I want to kiss her shoulder. She told me to do what I want. She trusts me not to go any further than what she feels comfortable with. I just hope she hasn’t foolishly trusted me.
‘Turn around so you can rinse.’ She turns around and smiles and I take that as a sign that I’m doing okay. Then she reaches for my ear and pinches my earlobe. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask with a chuckle, hoping she doesn’t see how close she came to giving me an erection just now.
She shrugs and continues to smile as she closes her eyes and puts her head under the water. I seize the opportunity to look at her body. Her breasts are perfectly round and perky, nipples slightly pink. Her waist curves down to small hips. She’s a little too thin, but she’s already not quite as thin as she was three days ago. My gaze slides down a bit farther to the scars on her thighs, and suddenly I see her hand reaching out to me again.
‘Kiss me.’
A painful longing fills my chest to the point that I feel I might burst. I place my left hand on her face and my right hand on her waist, ready to put some distance between our hips in case I get too excited. Then I pull her lips to mine and kiss her slowly. Her hands land on my chest, then slide down and around to my lower back. I try to focus on anything other than being inside of her, but it’s so fucking hard.
‘Ow,’ she whimpers.
I pull my head back, completely embarrassed that I just bit her lip without realizing what I was doing. ‘Sorry. I got a little carried away.’
‘It’s okay.’ She shakes her head and leans into me. ‘Don’t stop.’
I kiss her again, this time a bit harder and she moans into my mouth. Oh, fuck. I push her hips back a little and she groans.
‘Why are you pushing me?’
‘I can’t do this.’ I clear my throat, unsure how to explain this to her. ‘You’re getting me too excited.’ She tries unsuccessfully to suppress her grin, so she covers her mouth with her hand. ‘You think that’s funny?’
‘No. I just think it’s kind of cool that I make you feel that way, and that it scares you.’
‘You think it’s cool that I’m scared of making you uncomfortable?’
‘Okay, maybe it’s not cool, but it’s very sweet. You can turn around if that makes you feel better. I should probably wash your hair now anyways. You stink.’
I kiss her and she’s caught off-guard, which elicits an immediate whimper. It’s such a fucking beautiful sound. Her hands reach up and she clutches my hair to hold my head still as she kisses me back.
‘I love you.’ The words sound slightly garbled by the water flowing into my mouth as I kiss my way down her jaw an
d to her neck. ‘I love you so much. I don’t want to hurt you.’
She leans her head to the side, opening herself up to me, like a flower waiting for a honeybee. I kiss her neck, sucking gently so I don’t leave a mark, but enough to fully appreciate the taste of her skin.
‘Crush?’
‘Yes, baby.’
‘I think . . . I think I want you to touch me.’
Pulling my head back, I gaze into her eyes to make sure she’s ready, because her words sounded unsure. Her chest is heaving as she meets my gaze straight on and nods.
I place my left hand behind her neck and pull her toward me so I can kiss her. My other hand lands gently on the small of her back, waiting for another needy whimper or moan to tell me she’s ready. And, sure enough, seconds later she gives it to me.
I slowly slide my hand over her abdomen, giving her the opportunity to stop me, but she doesn’t. I keep moving down until my hand is between her legs and she gasps.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh, I—’ She seems unable to speak so I quickly remove my hand. She grabs it to stop me from pulling away. ‘No, I’m fine. I just did not expect it to feel like that.’
‘Does it hurt?’
‘No!’
I kiss her forehead and this brings her smile back. ‘Maybe we should just get washed up and go watch some reality TV.’
She sighs as she stares at my lips. ‘Okay. But I won’t forget that you rejected me.’
‘I’m not rejecting you. I want to make you feel how much I love you, but I want to do it out there where I can dote on you. Not in here where I can’t even see what I’m doing. Is that okay?’
She nods and I feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Something about this didn’t feel right. We’ll both know it when it is. And when it’s right, it will be that much more amazing for both of us.
*****
After two excruciating hours of cuddling on the sofa, watching reality TV while thinking of nothing but all the ways I’d like to have sex with Mikki, I switch off the TV and ask her something I’ve wanted to ask ever since she told me she wrote a poem about me.
‘I have a favor to ask you.’
‘You want to sleep in my bed tonight?’
‘Ha-ha. Actually, I was wondering if you’d help me with my song.’
She lifts her head off my chest and looks up at me. ‘What song? “Black Box”?’
‘Yeah. Ever since you said you write poetry, I was thinking maybe you could look at the lyrics and see if there’s anything that could be improved.’
‘There’s nothing that can be improved. It’s beautiful. Besides, just because I write poetry doesn’t mean I’m any good at it. I kind of suck.’
‘Somehow, I doubt that.’
‘You have too much faith in my artistic abilities. I do write better when I’m not on my meds, but not as good as I do when I’m stoned. Just being honest.’
‘Okay, you don’t have to help, but can you just look at the lyrics with me and see if maybe you see some room for improvement. I need to work on the song just a little more before Saturday, especially now that I’m going to be performing it live in front of Kane instead of recording and editing it. I want it to be perfect and I’m still not completely happy with the second verse.’
I grab my phone off the table, ignoring the notifications of missed calls and texts, and go straight to my music-writing app. I open it up and it shows all the tabs and lyrics for the song, and it’s all editable.
‘That’s a cool app. They make an app for everything,’ Mikki remarks as she watches me scroll through to the second verse.
‘You’re going to think this is even cooler or totally lame, but this is my app. I hired an app developer to help create an app where I could write music. None of the apps I found had all the features I wanted.’
‘That is very cool. So you’re the only person who has this app, like Black Box?’
‘No, it’s for sale and it’s been downloaded millions of times.’
‘That is why you’re rich and I’m not. I need an app.’