Love Me Like You Do: Books That Keep You In Bed

by Fields, MJ

  She laughs her goodbye as we hang up, and I throw my phone down on the bed. Walking closer to the mirror, I stare at the two women who will forever hold my heart in their hands.

  * * *

  Thursday takes forever to arrive, and finally, I’m at the airport to pick up Lily. I haven’t seen her since I last left her at this same airport years ago, but I plan on making this experience a different one. This isn’t us as torn lovers—this is us as best friends.

  We’ve always had this silly relationship, so before I went to the airport, I stopped by the Disney store to pick up one of their stuffed turtles. Yes, I’ve seen Finding Nemo, and I loved that damn turtle. He was so much me and her combined into one character.

  With my black cap pulled low so no one will recognize me, I make my way into the airport and over to a spot I can wait for her. A peace I haven’t felt in months overwhelms me as my eyes meet hers from afar.

  Her soft brown hair is pulled back just in front, showing an innocence I never see from the girls down here. It’s refreshing to see a woman in her natural state of beauty, instead of being painted up with unnatural colors that cover their eyelids. Not Lily—she’s never worn much makeup, and I’m glad the older she gets, the more I can tell she’s not trying to keep up with what society thinks she should look like. She’s the only true-to-herself person I know.

  The look on her face proves she’s just as apprehensive of this hello as I am, but I don’t give a shit anymore. She’s my best friend, and I will do whatever it takes to make this right. When she’s close enough, I run up to her, pick her up and swing her around. Not caring who sees as her feet leave the floor and we twirl in circles. I have my best friend here, and all is right in the world again.

  “Trevin, put me down!” she laughs as her bags fall to the floor.

  I squeeze her tighter. “God, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  We pull apart to look at each other as she whispers, “Me too.”

  “I got you something.” I hold out the turtle with a big shit-eating grin on my face.

  She laughs as she pulls it into her, giving it a big hug. “Thanks, Trev. Here, help me with my bags.”

  I pick them up and we make our way out to where my car is parked. Nothing can ruin today. If she weren’t my gravity, I’d be floating away on cloud nine right now.

  Our car ride home is just like old times. Thankfully, everything about my best friend is exactly as I remembered, and we’re acting like we’re twelve again.

  I roll up my sleeves as I drive down the road and hear Lily gasp when she catches sight of my newest tattoo, which covers my right inner forearm.

  “What’s that?” she asks, grabbing for it before I can say anything.

  Proud of what I’ve done to my body, I turn my arm over to reveal the ink that covers every bit of skin from my wrist to my elbow. It’s all done in black and shaded ink. The sun’s rays peek out of the clouds down onto a pond of lily pads with blooming flowers and my mom’s name inscribed in the clouds.

  I wasn’t sure how she would take the tattoo I got to honor the two most important women in my life. The smile that covers her face and the tear forming in the corner of her eye tells me she knows the thought behind it, and nothing needs to be said.

  At home, we walk to her room where her face lights up at the sight of what I’ve done. I had an interior decorator help me with this, just for her. Of course, I had to throw in my own touch—a candle resembling a lily pad sitting on her dresser. But she was able to find amazing photos of all different types of dancers and a bedspread with the perfect woman’s touch. I wanted her to know this would always be her room—no one would ever step foot in it, much less sleep in it.

  “Trevin, you’re too much. I love it, though. Will I ever live down this damn nickname from you?”

  I kiss her forehead. “Never. When we’re ninety years old and my teeth are falling out, you’ll still be my Lily Pad. Go ahead, get settled and I’ll show you the rest of the place.”

  After giving her a tour of the house, we walk into the kitchen. I go to offer her a drink but realize I have nothing but beer in my fridge. “Shit, sorry. I guess I failed on that part. Want to go out somewhere?”

  “No, not really. Let’s just order a pizza and hang out like we used to.”

  I shut the fridge. “Sounds perfect.”

  And it is. Everything about having her here is perfect. We ordered a pizza and I sat on the floor with her lying on the couch, talking, laughing, and listening to music all night long—just like we used to.

  At two am, I see her yawn out of the corner of my eye, making me realize the thought of sleep sounds good to me, too. “You ready to hit the sack?” I ask, standing up from the floor.

  She yawns again, stretching out her arms before sitting up and gathering her cup from the table.

  I take it from her. “Here, I got that. You head on to bed. I’ll clean up.”

  She leans in to give me a quick hug goodnight and goes her separate way, to the opposite side of the house to the room I hope one day will truly be hers.

  Lily

  I wake up to a view of the beach to die for. I knew I’d love this house, but I wasn’t sure how it would be with Trevin. My emotions were all over the place yesterday, and I’m relieved to be back to our old selves.

  He’s been asking me to move here, and I kept telling him there was no way I could. The truth is, I didn’t know if I could handle it. But if me living here is anything like it was last night, I’m totally in. Not only is this house amazing, but I truly have my best friend back.

  My parents couldn’t afford for me to live off campus, and staying in the dorms as a senior is getting old. If I move down here, he said I wouldn’t have to pay rent, and I could get a job to cover my food expenses.

  I’m ready to take the plunge.

  Jumping off the bed, I run out of my room, excited to share the news with him. I throw open his bedroom door only to find him passed out, lying flat on his stomach with his arms tucked around his pillow.

  It’s amazing how much he’s changed. The slight beard, that he keeps trimmed so it’s more of a stubble, covers his jawline, making the boy I once knew look more like a man. His body is still lean, but I can see a definition of muscle that is pulled taut with his arms gripping his pillow.

  Once I’m finished ogling over the new him, I run straight to his bed, jumping on him to wake him up. “Get up, Trev!” I say, running my hand through his messy hair.

  He growls in response before grabbing the pillow to cover his head. “Are you kidding me right now? Why are you waking me up so early? Maybe it’s a good thing I can’t convince you to move down here.”

  “Well sorry, too late for that. Come on, I have an appointment at USC to register for fall semester in a few hours, and I don’t want to be late.”

  I wait for what I said to sink in, and only a few seconds later, he sits up, throwing the pillow off him. “Wait. What?”

  “You heard me. If I’m going to move here, I need to make sure I get the classes I need to graduate in time,” I say with a big smile on my face.

  “Are you shitting me?” He throws his pillow directly at my face. “This whole time you planned on moving here and just weren’t telling me?”

  I laugh as I catch the pillow before it smacks me completely. “Sorry, I had to mess with you a little. So get up. Let’s get going so we can check out the campus.”

  I hop off his bed and get ready for the day. Embarking on my new normal with Trevin, as friends, the way we’re meant to be.

  * * *

  Registration goes smoothly, and I’m able to transfer all my classes so I can still graduate next year. Our weekend is better than I expect, and I’m ready to move here full time. I just need to head home to get my things. I’ll have about a month before school starts, and the thought of lying on the beach, wasting my time away, sounds amazing.

  I’m flying back today to get my things before driving back down. I couldn’t convince Trev t
o come with me, even though he has the week off. He still wants nothing to do with his father or anything about our hometown. I hope to change that one day, but we have a while to go so I don’t fight him on the subject.

  My friend, Morgan, is planning on making the drive and staying with me for a few days, so I’m excited about our road trip.

  When Trevin drops me off at the airport, I’m reminded of the last time I left him standing outside this very door and am so thankful that we’ve been able to move on. I lean over to give him a big hug. “Thanks again for everything this weekend. I’ll see you in about a week.”

  “Yeah, call me to let me know you got home safely, and keep in touch. I’ll make sure I have more food in the fridge when you get back.”

  I hit his chest. “Don’t lie. No you won’t. But don’t stress about that. Food and groceries are on me from now on. It’s the least I can do for letting me crash at your place.”

  “Lilies, I told you. It’s your place, too. I’d have none of this if it weren’t for you; don’t forget that.”

  I smirk as all the memories of me teaching him guitar flood my brain and I smile, giving him another big hug. “I’m so proud of you, Trev.” So much of our life is coming full circle. Everything about us, our childhood, our relationship—it’s all coming into focus. My role in his life then and now. I’ve always loved him, and I always will, but maybe my purpose was to be his gravity, and not his lover.

  “I know.” He smirks. “Now get going so you can pack and get your ass back here.”

  I laugh, getting out of the car, and head to check in for my flight. As I wait, I decide to go to the newsstand to grab the new Cosmopolitan to read on the plane, but everything stops when I see the latest tabloid. Pictures of Trevin walking through an airport carrying the Crush turtle he gave me are splattered on the front page. There are three photos in all. One by himself, one with his arms wrapped around me, and one with us walking out together with the words: Stone Cold’s Playboy Guitarist Smitten Over Mystery Girl. And there, in a small circle is an up-close picture of me smiling at him.

  I never even saw a camera or anyone taking our picture. I can’t help but wonder if this is my new normal—and whether or not I’m equipped to handle it.

  Fourteen

  Living my dream

  One day at a time

  But to my heart it may seem

  I've still got many hills to climb

  - Trevin Allen

  Lily – A few months later

  The tabloids haven’t stopped and I’ve officially made the cover four different times, everybody wondering who I am and where I came from. Once I started school, we noticed photographers following me around. His manager decided we should do an interview to stop the rumors and set the record straight—Trevin is still very much on the market and he and I are just friends.

  I’m not going to lie, the just friends part hurts. It always will. The look the writers gave me during the interview made me feel inferior. I know they thought it was because I didn't fit the look of a rock star's girlfriend. The pity in their eyes made me want to tell them we’ve been there, done that, and at one time, he did want me, but really, none of it matters. It’s not who we are now, and the interviews weren’t about me, so I just sat back, answering any questions they asked me directly, but otherwise just going along with the flow.

  The dance team at USC was already established, but I had my coach at USF contact the coach here, and thankfully, she gave me a private tryout. Making the team was the icing on the cake—after, of course, being here with Trevin. I’ve also been able to find a job as a dance instructor to advanced girls, ages nine to eighteen, and I love every minute of it, but lately, my focus has been entirely on school, one class in particular. I’ve always struggled with math, and now, it’s about to push me over the edge.

  No matter what my teacher says, it doesn't click in my head and frustration fills me to the brim. Now I’m sitting at our kitchen table on the verge of tears when I see I got yet another question wrong on my study guide. I’ve been working on the same problem for over an hour, trying to figure out where I made my mistake and getting nowhere.

  The feeling of Trevin pulling my chin up to look at him breaks me from my depression. I didn’t hear him come home, and when I look at the clock, I realize it’s two thirty in the morning.

  “What’s wrong, Lilies?” His hazel eyes are hurting for me.

  “Math. That’s what. I don’t get it. I do the right steps, but I keep getting the wrong answer. If I do this, I get to this point, then it goes with this but divides into this and—”

  He stops me. “Breathe. It’s okay. I think you need to take a break. You’re going to make yourself crazy.”

  A quick burst of laughter escapes from my mouth. “It’s too late for that…”

  “Come on. Time for bed. You can work on it again tomorrow.”

  He tries to close my books and pull my chair out, but I stop him. “No, I can’t. I have to study, because my test is in a couple of days and I have your concert tomorrow night and—”

  “Lily Pad.” He leans down to look me in the eye. “Don’t make me carry you out of here. It’s late. You need sleep.” He tilts his head, daring me to question his threat.

  “Fine!” I throw my hands on the table, push my chair away, and then I stomp off like an errant four-year-old, mad at their parents for making them go to bed.

  I hear Trevin chuckle under his breath, and I can’t help but turn to give him the dirty look I know is painted all over my face.

  When the sight of my bed comes into view, I realize just how tired I am and I crawl in my overstuffed, pillow-top bed. Like a balloon slowly deflating and falling from the sky, my eyes close and I drift off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

  When the sun shines through the blinds, filling my room with the morning rays, all I can think about is math. I need this class to graduate, and it would kill me if I had to retake it. When I roll over, the sight of my book sitting on my nightstand catches my attention. I sit up to see a stack of papers on top of it and a note written from Trevin:

  Here, try this. I looked over your notes and this book to work up a study guide that will teach you in a different way that you can understand. I hope it helps!

  Trevin

  I sit up in bed to wipe the sleep from my eyes and make sure I’m seeing this correctly. Sitting there are four pages of explanations to problems, all broken down to show each step. It’s a crazy amount of work, but the best part is, I actually understand what he’s done with each problem. I see where I was going wrong and how I was dividing where I should have been multiplying inside the parentheses before I divided.

  Trevin was always good in school, especially math, which I’m sure helped in his ability to pick up music the way he did. His brain just works that way, and I'm amazed he was able to figure out my homework without ever taking a single class. The thought makes me wonder what his life would’ve been like if his mom hadn’t died, but I remind myself everything happens for a reason. He’s living his dream.

  I can only imagine how late he stayed up working on this for me, so I don’t wake him when I leave for class. Instead, I write him a note simply stating, You’re the best! and secure it to the fridge so he doesn’t miss it.

  As I exit my class, I notice him sitting in the parking lot, leaning against his car with his hat pulled low so no one easily recognizes him, holding a coffee cup that I know is meant for me. Warmth fills my soul as I see my best friend standing before me, someone who has done so much for me, sitting here doing what he always does. With everything going on in his life, and getting ready for his tour along with a big show tonight, it warms me to see him here, making sure I’m all right.

  His smile grows when he sees me walking toward him, and I can’t help my arms as I throw them around his shoulders, hugging him tightly, almost knocking the coffee out of his hands but not caring one bit.

  “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you did that for me!” />
  “Did it help?” he asks, squeezing me tightly.

  “Yes, it totally did.” I pull back to look at him directly, not releasing my grip, though.

  Our faces are less than an inch apart, and my eyes fall from his hazel rounds to his pale pink lips. For a brief moment, my chest tightens and butterflies I haven’t felt in years flutter around, but I quickly let go and grab my coffee instead.

  “This is for me, right?” I taunt. He’s been bringing me coffee almost daily for weeks now.

  He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief at our momentary pull before stating, “You know it is. Now let’s go. You can come help me pack and get everything ready for tonight.”

  Tonight is the first time I’m going to see Stone Cold live—not only live, but I get to have the entire experience as they perform to a sold-out show at the Staples Center. Their four-month tour starts this evening, so I’m going to be living alone for the next few months while he goes on the road.

  We both hop in his car, and before he pulls out of the spot, I put my hand over his resting on the shifter and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Really though, thank you very much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

  He nods. “It was nothing. Glad I could help.” Then, he backs up and heads toward our house to get ready.

  * * *

  When we arrive at the stadium, he shows me their lavish bus. He talks about where they’ll be and how things will go down. I followed his stops online for their last tour, so I get the gist. I know he truly leads his real rock-star life when he’s away. A different girl greets his bed every night, while alcohol and drugs flood his body. He’s kept me sheltered from this aspect of his life—never bringing girls to the house and keeping his friends away.