Author: Cassia Leo

‘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.

Chapter 38: MIKKI – January 6th

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.

Chapter 39: CRUSH – January 6th

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.