by Tucker, RH
Her eyes are wide. Her hand’s in front of her mouth, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh. She nods and then looks at Taylor. “Absolutely. Taylor, I just want you to be happy. And Micah, he really loves you.”
“What the shit is going on?” Taylor yells at both of us. “Get the hell out of my room, both of you!”
“But, baby …” I reach out to him, and the girl jumps off the bed, keeping the sheet around her while grabbing her clothes off the ground.
“This is too weird!”
“No. Gretchen, he’s just messing around!” Taylor calls out.
“Baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“Don’t call me!” Gretchen yells, running out of the room.
Veronica watches her leave the apartment. My eyes follow her out, before looking back at Taylor, who’s also watching her go. When the front door shuts, his head snaps toward me, and he lunges.
“You asshole!”
I jump off the bed, Veronica in a fit of giggles now. “Payback’s a bitch, huh?” I say, laughing.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to hookup with her?”
“Oh, um, Taylor?” Veronica starts, her cheeks blushing
“No.” He points at her, standing up. “You don’t get to say anything. Step-sister? What the hell was that?”
“Hey, uh, bro?” I glance around, trying to get his attention.
“Shut up, cockblocker.”
“Uh,” I laugh. “Looks like I didn’t block as much as you think.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
I look over at Veronica, who’s averted her eyes, still giggling. I point down at his waist, his boxers tenting.
“Shit!” He jumps back on the bad, grabbing a sheet to cover himself. “Get the hell out of here!”
We both burst into laughter, scampering out of his room and into mine.
Chapter 6
Veronica
Running out of Taylor’s room while he’s yelling at us, I follow Micah into his. It’s like we’re old friends and we both flop down on his bed in a fit of laughter.
“Did you see his face?” Micah wipes the tears from his eyes
“That was hilarious.” I hold my stomach. “Oh man, he’s going to really want to get you back for that one.”
“It was worth it.”
The laughing continues for a few more minutes, and he reaches over to his desk, grabbing a remote. “Want to watch some Netflix?”
I wipe my eyes again, giving him a coy grin. “Micah, are you asking me to Netflix and chill?”
“Oh!” His eyes pop open. “No! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
I wasn’t planning on staying after everyone left. As well as we seemed to be getting along, when it started to die out, I was going to leave when Cindy was ready. It wasn’t until halfway through the party she pulled me aside and told me her plan.
Still entirely determined on getting me to hookup with Micah, she said if I wanted to stay just tell her I would get an Uber. I told her okay, mostly just to get her to shut up about it. But the more the night went on, the more I was thinking about her idea. And the more I was leaning toward using it. When she finally said she was ready to go, I could tell from the expression on her face she wanted me to act on her plan. I surprised myself when I actually did it.
“What’d you want to watch?”
He turns on the TV. “I’ve been binging on Supernatural lately.”
“Cool.” I nod, sitting up and kicking off my shoes.
I don’t know what it is that makes me feel so comfortable around him. We talked a little in our art class, and I knew who he was in high school, but I would’ve never called us friends. Of course, I always thought he was cute. Cindy would call him delicious. Okay, I’d call him delicious, too.
He’s a foot taller than me, and his broad shoulders just emphasize that more. Dark brown hair that’s short but long enough to style. I’ve wanted to run my fingers through it a couple times tonight. His square jawline is clean shaven, though he does have a small five o’clock shadow, and dark umber eyes that draw me in.
He’s in jeans and a T-shirt, but I’ve seen him at the gym. Sleeves cut off, shorts riding high when he’s working out his legs. It’s enough to make a girl drool. I’m sure he does, which is why I’ve tried to hide when I see him. I mean, what guy would be looking at the chunky girl on the elliptical machine, when Malibu Barbie is deliberating working out her glutes in front of him.
Trying to focus, I watch the TV as he scrolls. “Have you ever watched New Girl?” I ask.
“Not really. Is it good?”
I nod. “It’s funny. But we don’t have to watch it.”
“Why not? If you say it’s good, I’ll give it a try.”
“No, it’s okay.” I shake my head.
Bringing up New Girl makes me think of Tim. It doesn’t happen a lot anymore, but certain things trigger memories of him. Watching New Girl is one of them. Or, should I say, not watching it.
We were hanging out in his room one time, and I brought up the show. We’d been watching a marathon of The Walking Dead, which I also like. But we watched three episodes, and I wanted to watch something else. I pulled up New Girl and started an episode while he was in the bathroom.
“What happened?” he asked when he came back in.
“Let’s watch this. Please?” I gave him my best cute-pouty look. “I’m tired of zombies.”
“What is it?” He watched the quick opening of the show then looked at me, throwing up an eyebrow. “Are you serious, V?”
“Yeah.” I smiled.
“This looks stupid.” He grabbed the remote and put on another episode of Walking Dead.
Micah nudges my arm, breaking up the memory. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Put on whatever you want. I mean, it’s your TV.”
“All right.”
I return my gaze back to the sheets and then down at my shoes on the ground. What am I doing here? Why do I even think there’s a possibility of making out with him? Yeah, sure, we kissed playing that joke on Taylor, but it was a joke. Tingles spread across my arms as soon as his lips touched mine, and when he broke away, I was a little disappointed. But why? It was a prank. This is so stupid.
My doubts are broken up by the theme song playing. “Who’s that girl? It’s Jess!”
My head snaps to Micah, who’s looking at me with a huge grin. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Checking out New Girl.” I start to smile as he gets off the bed. “Hold on a second.” He grabs the remote and pauses the show, running out of the room. Thirty seconds later he comes back in with a bag of chips and two sodas.
“You like Dr. Pepper?” he asks, and I nod. “Cool. I would’ve offered to make popcorn, but we ran out. We got Ruffles though.”
“Ruffles are great.” I smile over at him.
He sits back down on the bed, handing me the drink, and opening the bag of chips. He starts the episode and digs into the chips. I take a small sip of the soda. We don’t talk, just lean back against his headboard, watching the show.
It’s a comfortable silence. I’ve always felt like someone should be saying something, even if it’s just a comment about something random. As if too much silence meant why were we even hanging out or together in the first place. But I don’t feel that with Micah. He chuckles at the jokes on the show, and I glance over at him and see if he’s really enjoying it or he’s just trying to like it for me. He looks like he’s paying attention, and I smile. Catching me looking, he bumps his shoulder into mine.
“You haven’t eaten any chips?” He motions to the bag, offering me some again. “You don’t like them?”
“Oh, no, it’s not that.” I bite my lip, feeling a little embarrassed.
“What is it?”
I should just make up an excuse, but I feel at ease around him. Only Cindy and my family know how self-conscious I am about my weight, it’s not something I like to share. But som
ething about the way he’s looking at me like he’s actually interested in what’s on my mind makes me speak up. “I’m kind of on a diet.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I have been for a while, but it comes and goes. Lately, I’ve been trying to stick to it again.”
“That’s cool, I guess.”
“You guess?” His words confuse me. Is he just being nice? Does he think I’m like other girls who say they’re on a diet to try and impress a guy?
He shrugs. “Yeah. I don’t know. I guess I think you look fine how you are.”
I scoff. “That’d be a first.”
“What?”
Again, the comfortableness I feel around him has me saying more than I usually would. “I know guys say they like a girl with curves, but there’s a difference between curves and being fat.”
He recoils. “Whoa.”
I’ve said too much. I expect him to look at me like I’m weird or maybe a little out there. Anything other than how he’s actually looking at me, which is with concern.
“Veronica—”
“Micah, don’t.” I shake my head and avert my eyes. “I know what I am, okay? I have to see myself every day. I’ve lost twenty pounds, which might not be a lot, but I think I look better. And I feel better, too. But I know what I am.”
The room goes silent. I glance over at the show and see that he’s paused it. He doesn’t break the silence until I look up at him. “If losing weight will make you feel better about yourself, then you do that. Good job, by the way. But, I think you’re beautiful.”
I feel my face go flush, but can’t break my eyes away from him. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes but smiles. “Besides, haven’t you heard the old saying? Guys like a little more cushion for the pushin’?” His eyes widen, mortification flashing across his face. “Wow, sorry. That was douchey. I just mean you look fine.” He clears his throat, returning his attention back to the TV, unpausing it.
I can’t explain why his comment doesn’t make me roll my eyes. I know he’s not taking a shot or trying to be dumb. He’s just attempting to make me feel better about myself. And it makes me feel even more relaxed around him. More than relaxed or comfortable, it makes me feel safe around him.
Scooting a little closer to him, I grab a couple chips. Through the corner of my eye, I see him smile. He lifts his arm and wraps it around me, and I snuggle closer. I’m not sure if he’s looking for a hookup, but I don’t think so. If this was Taylor, as I’ve seen firsthand, I know he’d probably try making a move. But he seems to be enjoying the show and my company. Then I wonder if he’s still hurt over his ex. I still don’t know what happened there.
“Another episode?” he asks. Looking up at him, our faces are only inches apart. His dark brown eyes lock onto mine, and he licks his lips.
You know what, screw this. Cindy’s right, I’m in college. I may be a virgin, but there’s no reason to not just have fun. He’s already said my weight isn’t an issue. He wouldn’t be lying, would he? Would he want to make out with me? Thinking about a possible make out session reminds me of his lips just a little bit ago. I want to taste them again. I try to gather as much confidence as I can, channeling my inner Cindy.
“How about something else?” I whisper.
“Okay.” He nods. “What other show—”
“Micah?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
That’s not the reply I was looking for. I feel my confidence dwindling. How does Cindy make this look so easy?
“Kiss me,” I repeat, hanging on to whatever little confidence I have left.
He leans closer and our noses touch. Raising a hand to my cheek, I feel his lips skim across mine. His hand slides from my face to my arm and then to my waist, his eyes still locked on mine. His face is as close as he can get without kissing me, but he leans his body closer. His hand moves around my curves, and my hand reaches up to his face. Then his lips connect with mine and the electricity returns.
The same feeling from earlier rushes through me. His tongue sweeps over my bottom lip, and I finally get to run my fingers through his hair, which sends waves of excitement through me. His hands brush along my waist, his fingers skirting under the hem of my shirt. He shifts closer, and I sink a little lower in his bed.
Wait. We’re in his bed. I’m in his bed.
Uh oh.
I feel stupid for not thinking ahead of time. How do you ask a guy to make out with you when you’re laying in his bed and not expect him to not want to take it further? But I have to tell him. I have to let him know I just want to make out. I just want his lips on mine, and I don’t want to take it further, at least not tonight. Because if he expects me to, then what? As much as Project V is a joke, it’s not like I don’t want to have sex. But as hot as Micah is, I don’t want to be a one-night stand or a rebound.
“Wait, wait.” I feel the embarrassment creeping up and try to ready myself for his look of annoyance that will no doubt come from my next words.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I just …” Biting my lip, I avert my eyes. “I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m so stupid.”
Bringing a hand to my chin, he tilts my face so my gaze meets his. “Hey, don’t say that. What’s wrong?”
I give an incredulous laugh at myself. “I want you to kiss me. I want to make out with you. But that’s all.”
“Okay.” He nods.
“Okay?” I look at him, confused.
He lets out a laugh, squinting. “Veronica, what guy is going to say no to making out with a cute girl in his bed?”
Drop it, Veronica. Just take what he’s giving you and get on with the making out. But I can’t. I dig my hole deeper. “You mean, you don’t mind if we don’t … have sex?”
“Wow.” He sits up straighter. “That’s messed up. Sex is off the table, so you think I’d just avoid kissing. How little you think of me.”
“Oh, no!” I sit up. I’ve ruined everything now. “Micah, that’s not what I meant. I’m just surprised. You know guys are—”
“Dang, and then you just lump me in with other guys.”
He folds his arms across his chest, looking away. Thoroughly embarrassed, I get up from the bed, grabbing my shoes off the floor and head to the door. I don’t even try to put them back on. I’ll just walk out, text Cindy, and let her laugh at me while I relate this entire stupid experience on my way home.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I approach the door.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not having it in me to turn and face him. “I’m so dumb. I just didn’t want to lead you on.”
“You didn’t. So …” He lets the word hang in the air, and I wait for more, but he says nothing. I finally turn around, and he has a huge grin, his hands behind his head. “We still gonna make out or what?”
My jaw drops. “You jerk!” I laugh as I run at him, landing on top of him.
“Sorry,” he laughs, bringing a hand up to my cheek as I straddle him. “Also,” he wraps his arms around me, his hands cupping my butt, “I kind of only gave you a half-truth earlier.”
I tilt my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“When I said you’re beautiful. I mean, you are, but that was only half of it.” He starts kissing my neck, down one side, around and up the other side.
“Okay,” I answer, shuddering as his mouth runs over my skin.
“I also think you’re incredibly sexy.”
My family has called me pretty, but they’re my family. My friends tell me I’m beautiful, but they’re my friends. I’ve had two boyfriends my entire life, one freshman year of high school, so we didn’t do much except kiss a few times and hold hands. Nothing too sexy about that. Tim was my boyfriend during senior year, and he should’ve been the one—of anyone—to call me that. But he never did. I thought I could be, bu
t when I caught Tim cheating on me, I figured that must’ve been it. Or at least, one of the reasons he cheated on me. I wasn’t sexy enough.
But here I am with someone I inexplicably feel more comfortable within a few hours of talking than I did with three months of actively dating Tim. And with his hands on me, his tongue sliding over my lips again and meeting mine, I can’t control the moan I let out of how good it feels in his arms.
* * *
We made out for a while, and I totally expected Micah to try and escalate things. I don’t know how I would’ve responded to his requests, but he never made any. He did try to snake his hands under my shirt, but my self-conscious brain went into overdrive, and I immediately pulled his hands away, keeping them on the outside.
After the make out session ended, I was going to text Cindy, but Micah offered to watch some more New Girl. So we did, and I’m not sure when, but I fall asleep.
Waking up the next morning is strange. I know I’m in his room still, but a pang of anxiety hits me, questioning if I should’ve stayed the night. My eyes lift up, and I see Micah’s face in front of mine, his lips inches from my forehead. I swallow my nervousness, then realize I have a little drool seeping out, running down his shoulder. Wiping my mouth, I take full account of our positions.
I’ve never slept in a guy’s bed before, so waking up in his arms is a new feeling. Somehow our legs have tangled up. One of his arms is under my head, wrapped around me, keeping me close to him. One of mine is the same, and my other is over his shoulder. And that’s when I notice it. Our bodies are so close that his … well, he’s pressed into my stomach.
If Cindy was painting this picture for me from one of her hookups, or if I was watching this scene unfold in a movie or show, I’d think it was awkward and funny. But laying in his arms, it’s the furthest thing I’m feeling. I’m calm. And warm. I feel like this is the best feeling in the world and the only way I want to wake up from now on.