“What’s up with him?” I say while Javi is in the bathroom. Jett shrugs and grabs a chip from the bowl I’d set out earlier as an “appetizer.”
“He’s just thinking about a lot. And the quitting smoking isn’t helping. He’s been kind of an asshole to live with, to be honest.” Huh. So Javi is having a hard time quitting. Good. So am I.
On one of my breaks at the bar last night I’d actually gone out back to the smoking area and inhaled a few times, just to get the essence. It wasn’t smoking if I just happened to be around someone else that was smoking. As long as the cigarette didn’t touch my lips, I was good.
“Good. It hasn’t been a picnic for me either.” I really should stop talking about smoking. The more I talk about it, the more I want to do it.
“What’s not a picnic?” Javi says as he comes back in the room and goes immediately to the stove to check the sauce he’s making for the pork chops that are currently in the oven.
“Nothing,” I say, not wanting to talk about the smoking thing anymore.
“You were talking about me, weren’t you?” Javi says, pointing at me with the wooden spoon he’d used in the sauce and splattering it all over the floor. Shannon grabs a towel to clean it, but he takes it from her.
“I got it. My fault.” He wipes up the spill and I hope he’ll forget what he was just talking about.
“So, what were you saying about me?” he asks as he goes back to stirring the sauce. He isn’t going to let it go.
“I was just asking how you were doing with the quitting smoking. That was it. Not everything is about you, Javier.” Wow, I did not mean to sound like an uberbitch, but I definitely did right there.
Everyone stares at me.
“I’m clearly having trouble myself. One of the side effects of quitting smoking is irritability,” I say. Plus, my period is due tomorrow. So it was really the worst idea ever for me to quit smoking this week. Way to go, Hazel.
“Sorry,” I say, just for good measure.
He shrugs.
“Yeah, it’s been rough. But talking about it isn’t exactly helping, so how about we talk about something else. Anything else,” Javi says and Shannon jumps in and starts talking about a girl who had a breakdown in one of her business classes and threw a fit so bad she had to be escorted out of the room by the teaching assistants. I send her a smile of thanks.
We eat and then the two lovebirds head out for bowling. I expect Javi to leave. But, of course, he just does whatever the hell he wants to.
“I have homework,” I say, brushing crumbs off the table and onto the floor before I get up and start sweeping the kitchen, giving him the heavy hint that he might want to go.
“Me too. Brought everything with me.” He dashes out to his car and then comes back with a stack of books and notebooks.
“You like to make yourself at home, don’t you?” I say, dumping the dustpan in the trash and then putting the broom away.
“Your place is nicer than mine. And my place doesn’t have you in it. So.” He walks past me to the living room and starts spreading everything out on the floor.
I watch him, completely stunned. Am I reading too much into the “my place doesn’t have you in it” comment? Probably.
“Okay then,” I say, going to get my own books. “Let’s study.”
I do a lot better this time, but Javi is still distracting, even though he doesn’t actually do anything to draw my attention away from my books.
Honestly, I don’t have a ton of reading, so I finish quickly. Javi closes his last book and puts it on top of the stack to his left.
“Still have more to do?” he asks and stretches his arms, his shirt riding up to show some of his gorgeous stomach and a tiny bit of hair that I know leads downward.
“Nope, I’m done,” I say, shutting my book. It isn’t even nine o’clock. I’m definitely not going to bed yet. If Javi wasn’t here, I’d probably put my pajamas on and watch a stupid movie. Ah, but he is here, so I can’t do what I want. He’s really been putting a crimp in my style.
We stare at each other for a minute and then he gets up.
“Want to watch a movie or something?” he says, going to the cabinet where we keep our DVDs and looking through them. He really has some boundary issues. Was he raised by wolves? I know nothing about Javi’s home life. He’s never offered any information and I’m usually too irritated by him to ask. Not that I’ve told him anything about my family either. I mostly try to forget about them. One of the reasons Shannon and I bonded early on was our somewhat crappy upbringings.
“I guess. If you want.” I set my books on the coffee table, figuring he’s going to want to sit next to me on the couch. “What did you have in mind?” He probably isn’t going to find much that he wants to watch in our collection. Most of the movies belong to Shannon and she has a thing for John Hughes and romantic comedies.
“Yes!” he says, holding up a box. I can see what it is from the couch. Step Brothers. Nice. I figured it was either that or The Hangover. Or Anchorman. One of the trifecta.
“Nice choice. Put it in,” I say and he gives me a look. “Oh shut up. You know what I meant.” He just suppresses a laugh and puts the DVD in the player and turns the TV on.
“How many times have you watched this?” he asks as the movie starts.
“Um, probably more than you.” I’ve seen this movie way too many times. In fact, I probably don’t even need to watch it. I could act it out from beginning to end.
He settles on the couch, but far enough away that we’re not touching. Wow, that’s the first semi-considerate thing he’s done since he got here.
The movie starts, but I’m not watching it. Without the distraction of homework, it’s a lot easier to pay attention to Javi. He can’t seem to get comfortable and keeps changing position.
“Will you sit still? Jesus.” I glare at him and then grab a blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over myself.
“Sorry. So, you’re not into blanket sharing?” He points to the blanket.
“You don’t seem like a blanket guy.” He laughs.
“What the hell is a blanket guy?” I roll my eyes.
“I don’t know. Shut up and get under the blanket.” I hold it up and he scoots over. This was not a good plan. Now he’s much closer, since the blanket will only cover two people if they’re sitting directly next to each other.
“You are shameless,” I say as he rests his arms on the back of the couch and leans back.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “And shhh, I’m watching the movie.” If I keep this going, he’s only going to annoy me further, so I just cross my arms and slide as far away from him as possible, which pulls the blanket. He yanks it back to cover himself and then a blanket war ensues and the movie is forgotten.
“You’re going to rip it,” I say as I try to pull it back.
“Fine,” he says and lets go so I fall back against the arm of the couch.
“You are such an asshole,” I say, smacking his arm. He’s just laughing at me.
“You enjoy it.” I do NOT.
He’s too close. And he’s warm and he smells amazing and I can’t stop thinking that I could just get up and climb on his lap and what else that would lead to.
I get up and throw the blanket at him.
“I’m making popcorn,” I say, completely ignoring the fact that we ate dinner less than an hour ago.
“Extra butter and salt,” Javi says as I head to the kitchen, his focus back on the movie as he wraps himself in the blanket like a burrito until only his face is showing.
“You’re hilarious,” I yell as I pull out the popper and get the popcorn from the cupboard.
“You know you enjoy it,” he calls back. I would never admit it to him, but yes, I enjoy him teasing me. I enjoy having him here. And I sure as hell enjoy having him make dinner every night. I haven’t eaten so well in… ever. I mean, Shannon is a decent cook, but Javi could be working in a fancy restaura
nt that had a snooty French guy at the door to turn people away who weren’t fancy enough to eat there.
Since Shannon started dating Jett, she isn’t around as much. That isn’t her fault and I totally understand. But the apartment is lonely without another person in it. I never realized that I hate being alone. Even though I couldn’t stand my family or my first insane roommate, at least there were other people around.
I measure out the popcorn and pour it in the popper and then go to the fridge for the butter and nearly crash into Javi.
“What the fuck?!” He must have shuffled from the living room to the kitchen while I’d been distracted.
“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need any help,” he says, unwinding himself from the blanket. He’s gone serious again and I open the fridge to put something between us.
“Well, next time, don’t sneak up on me. It’s rude,” I say as I pretend to search for the butter, even though it’s right in front of my face.
“Hogging blankets is rude too, Haze.” Of course he has to call me Haze. I close my eyes and grab the butter and then slam the fridge shut.
“Inviting yourself over is rude, Javier.” I hold the butter up like a sword. As if I’m going to impale him with it. What is wrong with me?
“Whoa, put down the butter, Haze. Think about what you’re about to do. Think of your family,” Javi says, holding his hands up in surrender. “Give me the butter and everything will be okay.” I make a disgusted sound, but I go to hand him the butter. Instead of taking it, he grabs my wrist and pulls me close, holding the butter above my head.
“You’re going to get through this.” He’s still doing the disarming butter bit, but I can’t think of anything except how it feels to have one of his arms around me and to be up against his chest. I have no idea why he needed the blanket before because he definitely feels warm to me.
We stare at each other, both in suspended animation. Javi, holding the stick of butter up high and me, crushed against his chest. One of us is eventually going to have to move.
In the end, it’s like we make a silent agreement. The butter drops to the floor and then Javi’s mouth crushes against mine and I don’t know if I kiss him, or he kisses me, but the point is that we’re kissing and I’m on fire and I don’t want it to stop, and I want it to stop because it’s too much.
He’s much too much. His mouth is too forceful, his arms grip me too hard and his tongue is too demanding.
But I’ll be damned if I’m going to stop what is happening.
Javi makes a sound in his throat that’s almost like a growl, and if it’s possible, pulls me closer. And then things change. The kiss becomes sweeter, softer. He’s got great lips, Javier. I like them much more when they’re kissing me than when they’re forming words designed to annoy me.
His hands move up my back and hold my face so delicately, it’s like he’s holding something he doesn’t want to break. His tongue retreats, almost as if he’s sorry for the initial assault and is waiting for me to decide if I want to continue.
It’s the best and most confusing kiss I’ve ever experienced.
He starts to pull away and I make a sound of protest, and now I’m the one grabbing his face and attacking his mouth. He’s only a few inches taller than me, so he doesn’t have to bend in half to get to my lips.
He tastes like fire.
We bump into the fridge and then Javi starts walking us backwards. Well, backwards for him. The blanket falls away and somehow neither of us trips on it as we kiss our way to my door.
I’ve always seen that done in movies, but I never thought it was a thing real people could accomplish without crashing into something. But here we are, at my door. Our hands both reach for the doorknob and it takes a few moments of groping to get it to twist the right way, and then we’re falling onto my bed and then…
“Tell me this is real,” he says, pulling his mouth away from mine, but only enough so he can speak. I open my eyes and am overwhelmed by his face dominating my vision.
“What?” I say, blinking a few times.
“Tell me this is real,” he says again, brushing some hair off my forehead. “I’ve pictured this so many times that I want to make sure this isn’t an elaborate hallucination. My imagination is good, but I don’t think it’s this good.” He smiles a little.
“Well, unless this is some sort of dual hallucination, this is happening,” I say. He has five freckles on his nose. I’ve never been close enough to notice before. I’m still trying to decide what color his eyes are.
“So this is happening,” he says, as if he needs reassurance. What happened to the cocky Javier who danced with that girl the other night?
“Yes,” I say, and to stop him from asking again, I kiss him. “It’s real.”
He’s being so… sweet. I’ve never known Javier to be sweet before. I like it.
I keep thinking he’s going to start pulling off my clothes, but he seems much too preoccupied with my lips. He sucks on my bottom lip and nibbles at it and then deepens the kiss, slowing it down even more. It’s like he’s trying out every kind of kiss and won’t be satisfied until he’s tested them all on my mouth. I’m more than okay with this. I’ve never been so completely and thoroughly kissed by anyone. If all we ever do is kiss, I can mark this in the win column. He shifts to get a better angle and I move with him, getting closer. I can barely breathe, but oxygen doesn’t seem important. I taste the inside of his mouth and he tastes the inside of mine.
For the rest of my life, as long as I live, I will never forget this kiss. I curl myself around his body, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He sighs in happiness and smiles against my lips.
I inhale a deep breath. His lips are red and almost bruised. I put my hand to my mouth and find my lips in the same condition.
Neither of us knows what to say. And then he strokes my cheeks with his thumbs, kisses my forehead, both of my cheeks, my chin, under my jaw and both earlobes.
His tongue flicks out and tastes a spot just below my ear and I shiver. He can’t know that’s one of the spots that drives me crazy. But he does now. He chuckles and does it again and I sigh.
“Stop that,” I say, but there is no force behind my words.
“No. You like it too much.” He does it again and my fingers sink into his hair and I press myself closer to him. I want him so bad that any sort of reservation or reluctance has been destroyed by the need in my body. I have to have him.
Right now.
But Javier doesn’t seem to feel the same urgency I do. He tries the same spot below my other ear and gets a similar reaction.
“Are you pleased with yourself?” I say, but it’s mostly a whisper mixed with a moan.
“Very. I’ve thought about this for a long time.” How long?
“Me too.” Since the first time I saw him. That sounds romantic, but I only wanted to bang him at that point. Just once. Wham! Bam! Thank you, sir. And I’m pretty sure his first thoughts of kissing me had more nudity involved. But both of us still have our clothes on.
“This is weird,” I say.
“That’s a first,” Javi says, leaning back. Crap, I didn’t mean it the way he’s taking it.
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. The kissing was… I think mind-blowing would be an understatement. What I meant is that when I pictured kissing you, I didn’t picture it like this.” He relaxes and props his head on his hand.
“How did you picture it?” Oh yes, he’s pleased I’ve pictured us together.
“Well, I don’t know.” I hate being on the spot like this.
“Come on, Haze. You can’t leave me hanging.”
“Well, what did YOU picture?”
He smiles and his entire face lights up.
“This. Exactly this.”
I give him a look.
“You pictured this? You, Mr. Take-Your-Pants-Off-Now pictured us fully-clothed, making out?”
He brushes his thumb across my lips and I have the urge to bite it. r />
“Haven’t you learned by now not to listen to anything I say?”
“You confuse me,” I say, but it comes out muffled against his hand.
“Hazel Gellar, you have no idea.”
We kiss a little more but then we just sort of… hold each other. Javi runs his fingers through my hair.
“You have awesome hair, by the way,” he says, wrapping a curl around his finger.
“Thanks, I grew it just for you.” He laughs and then places a kiss on the tip of my nose.
“You’re being really… nice. It’s weird,” I say.
“Thanks.” I tilt my head up and look him in the eye.
“Don’t be like that. I’ve just never seen you so… nice.” That’s really the only way to put it. He’s gone from a guy I wanted to throw hot coffee on to a guy who is making me feel warm and comfortable and tingly all over. He’s turning into one of those guys from Shannon’s books. Saying the right thing, kissing me softly. Holding me close like he doesn’t want to let me go.
“I didn’t know you could be like this,” I whisper.
“Well, I can.” The question I wanted to ask, but didn’t: Was he like this with anyone else? Or was it just me?
The next thing I know my alarm is blaring and I’m waking up on Javi’s chest. He stayed the night. I don’t even remember falling asleep, but here we are on my bed, his shirt clutched in my hands, his arms around my back. I’ve never spent the night with a guy. Ever. As soon as the sex was over, I left, or I made them leave. Sleeping (actual sleep, not sex) was far too intimate. When you sleep, you are at your most vulnerable. I would have sex with a guy before I’d let him see what I looked like first thing in the morning.
Javi sighs and shifts, his eyes opening slowly.
“Hi,” I say, looking up at him. He looks down at me and it takes him a second to piece together the fact that he’s in bed with me and it’s now morning.
“Well. Good morning to you.” He kisses my forehead and then closes his eyes as I turn off the alarm on my phone. “What time is it?”
“Seven. Sorry, I try to keep myself on a regular schedule so I get up early.” He sighs.