by A. L. Moore
“Hey, sleepy-head,” Thomas said, stepping from the hall with a small, white towel wrapped around his waist. Running his hand through his wet hair, he continued, “I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” Watching a water drop travel over his abs to be absorbed by the towel, I was certain this was a dream. I was clearly still asleep. The glass slipped silently from my hand and bounced unharmed against the rug I’d placed in front of the sink earlier this morning. Nope, not a dream. I wasn’t as uncoordinated in my dreams. Feeling like an idiot for blatantly ogling him, I quickly grabbed the glass and turned back to the sink. “Sorry, I fell asleep," I managed. "I bet Mama was looking for me.”
“Nah, I told her you were busy here, doing my laundry and what not.” I turned around in time to see him wink before disappearing into his room. Jackass.
“Hey, you want to watch a movie, maybe eat a pizza," he called out.
“You know no one delivers this far out, right?”
Pulling a white t-shirt over a pair of red basketball shorts, he came out, running the towel over his head. “Frozen? I've got a couple in the freezer.” His bare feet padded over to the freezer and pulled out two large square boxes. "It's not delivery. It's..." he said, mocking the pizza commercial that seemed to play during every TV break.
A movie with him. At night. Alone in his house. Bad idea. “Do you want me to ask Katy to join us?” I asked, watching him tear away the cardboard and plastic from the pizza.
Reaching for a pan from the drawer at the bottom of the stove, he looked over his shoulder with a smirk curving his full lips. “If you’d be more comfortable.”
If I’d be more comfortable? What was that supposed to mean? Yes, I’d be more comfortable, but it was awfully presumptuous of him to come to that conclusion so quickly. Like he was such a stud that I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him. “I’m comfortable now.” I interjected, my hands on my hips. “I just hope you don’t put me to sleep again,” I added for good measure.
He crooked a grin as he set the oven to preheat. “Then, no Katie?”
I took the pizza from him and put it on the cookie sheet. “No, Katie. I was only thinking of you anyway, Casanova. That was some goodnight hug you two shared the other night. Didn’t know if you wanted to follow-up on that.”
He choked on the Coke he’d just sipped, “Me and Katy? I don’t think so, Breelynn.” My whole name. He was serious.
“Not your type, huh?”
“My type?” he cocked a brow. His dark tan was more prominent against his white t-shirt when he crossed his arms over his chest. “What about your type? Still talking to that surfer dude you went bowling with?”
“He wasn’t a surfer.”
“He had on a beach shirt. Whatever. Not the point. Are you still seeing him?”
I shook my head, glancing to the stove as the light blinked. “I’ve been too busy helping my ex-boyfriend with his housekeeping to date lately.”
Taking the cookie sheet from my hand and placing it in the oven, he ushered me to sit down. “I’ve got this. Relax.”
I walked into the living room and flipped on the television before grabbing my blanket and curling back up on the couch. If I acted like this whole situation wasn’t insane, maybe it wouldn’t be.
"So," Thomas said, dusting his hands off on his shirt before plopping down next to me like he'd done earlier today. "Is that what I am?"
"What?"
"An ex-boyfriend?"
“Well, we never actually broke up, I guess, but it’s either that or you have cheated on me like a gazillion times in the past two years.”
He grabbed the remote from my hand and turned on the TV. “Trust me, it was nowhere near that many and no one of any importance.
“So, what are you up for?” he asked, clearly changing the subject. “If memory serves, nothing with too much action...and nothing depressing?”
“Good memory.”
“I remember everything, Bree.”
“So do I.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
I was suddenly hyperaware of the proximity of his legs to my own. The silken feel of his basketball shorts seemed to be radiating heat where they touched. I looked up to find him watching me instead of the rambling news broadcaster. My eyes were transfixed by his, knowing they were privy to the same memorable first touches and feelings that had gotten us here today. I found myself leaning toward him, my eyes moving to his mouth as he wet his lips. A car with a loud muffler drove by just as my eyes moved back to his, bringing reason with it. “On second thought, anything is fine with me," I said, shifting back to my previous position. "We’ll be lucky to find a movie on in the middle of the week."
“I had cable installed,” he winked, gesturing to a large black box on top of the television. “Movie channels are free the first month,” he added, passing me the T.V. Guide.
“Ah, yes! Channel 60,” I said after a quick peruse.
Peering over my shoulder, he saw my movie of choice and laughed humorlessly. “I don’t think so.” Reaching under my arm, he tried to strip away the T.V. Guide, but I knew that move, too.
“I don’t think so, cowboy,” I teased, holding it out to the side. “You invited me over. It’s good manners to let me pick.”
Sitting back with a playful huff, he crossed his arms and said, “Fine. chick-flick it is.” A triumphant smile on my face, I started scanning the channels.
It was nearly ten minutes before the movie was due to start. While I rambled about all the cool channels I wished we had at home, Thomas checked the pizza, coming back with two plates and a couple of cokes.
“Can I see that,” Thomas asked, popping a pepperoni into his mouth.
“Sure,” I said, handing him the remote. “And thanks,” I said, around a mouthful of hot cheese that I quickly chased with Coke.
“You are too easy, Bree,” Thomas chuckled, balancing his plate in his lap.
Easy? “Excuse me?” He waved the remote in front of my face. “Darn you!”
“Language, Bree,” he teased. "What if we compromise and watch something scary? No action for me, no teen heartthrob for you.”
“That is so not why I wanted to watch that!” I exclaimed. Blowing on the pizza before taking another bite. “But that’s fine. Just not too scary, or you’ll be walking me home tonight.”
He rolled his eyes as he crossed the room to turn off the lights before sitting close enough to graze my arm with his. We ended up eating our way through two frozen pizzas and a whole bag of chips before the movie really picked up. It wasn’t too scary. No dead people coming back to life or haunted houses. It was more of a drama than a horror flick, about an unexpectant family being watched by a sociopathic neighbor. I was so into the movie, I barely registered Thomas’s arm stretching behind me, but when his hand landed on my shoulder and pulled me closer to his chest, I sat ramrod straight. “Thomas, what are you doing?”
Looking at me like I was the crazy one, he tilted his head. “Since when can I not put my arm around you?”
“Since you haven’t done it in nearly four years,” I said, mimicking his wide-eyed expression. He arched a brow and pulled me close again. “Thomas, I’m serious. Every time we get too close…it just seems like it ends badly. I want us to be friends.”
He sighed, muting the screams on the screen. “Look, Bree. I know things have been fu…messed up between us since I came back. But that’s my fault and has nothing to do with you.
“What if I give you my word that nothing bad will come out of this,” he gestured between the two of us. “It feels like home with you here, Bree, and I miss holding you.” Lord give me strength.
“I miss it, too, Thomas, but—”
“But nothing,” he said, his arm bringing me to rest close to his side. “Friends cuddle.” True. I’d cuddled with Drew’s friend, Chase more times than I could count while we’d watched movies in Katy’s basement. I’d even cuddled with Drew a few times, with Katy’s permission of course
. But this was different on so many levels. For one, they weren’t Thomas and two, they weren’t Thomas. Who was I kidding? Thomas and I would never be friends, not like I wanted us to be. At least not now. There was just too much history.
“Stop over thinking this, Bree, and watch the movie,” he whispered, his warm breath touching my ear. Oh yeah, that was sure to help.
Trying to get back into the movie, I snuggled down further into the couch cushion, drawing my legs beneath me. Thomas readjusted his arm across my back as I laid my head against his shoulder. His warmth seemed to radiate along my skin, and despite the muscles I enjoyed watching when he worked, he was comfortably soft. He felt even better than I remembered. The fresh scent of his soap lingered on his skin, making me want to turn my face into his shirt and breath him in, but instead I kept my eyes focused on the screen.
Thomas shifted several times, even getting up for another coke at one point, but I hadn’t moved, and my legs were going numb beneath me. Just before the credits, I couldn’t take it anymore and turned with my back against Thomas and stretched my legs across the couch. Naturally, Thomas wrapped his arms around my waist and stretched the length of me, his back to the opposite arm of the couch. I had to keep reminding myself that this was no different than cuddling with my friends. That his heart beating against my back and his warm breath in my hair meant nothing. Friends. Friends. If I mentally repeated it, perhaps I could force it to be true. When the credits finally rolled, Thomas didn’t move. I could tell from his even breaths that he’d fallen asleep, and I hated to wake him, but I needed to move. “Thomas?” I whispered, patting the arm that lay over my stomach. Nothing. “Thomas?” I turned, surprised to find his eyes open and peering down at me. “I thought you’d fallen asleep.”
“Not asleep. Just not ready to let go yet” he sighed contently, giving me a gentle squeeze. “Look, I know I said nothing else would happen and if that’s what you want, I’ll stand by it.” He touched his finger to my lips to stop my argument, before slowly dragging it down to my chin. But I want to kiss you, Breelynn. Looking from his expectant, dark eyes to his lips, the only light coming from the nearly dark television screen, I threaded my hand up the back of his hair. It was just long enough to brush between my fingers.
“You don’t know how badly I want that right now,” I said, as his lips neared, barely brushing mine. “But it hurts too much, Thomas. I can’t go there again.” Not when I knew he would only push me away.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Breelynn,” he said adamantly.
The low light from the television cast shadows over us, making his features softer, nearly identical to the picture my mind had clung to in his absence. His voice whispered my name against my lips as I breathed him in, good and deep. I wanted to believe him. To lose myself in him and never resurface. I wasn’t used to something holding me back. When I’d wanted to be friends with Katy, I’d taken off through the fields alone at the tender age of five to introduce myself. When the skies darkened the summer before last and a funnel cloud hovered just beyond our property, I was the first one out of the cellar when Addy got out of the barn. Even with Thomas, whether it was sneaking past druggies to bring him food or sneaking him into my bedroom to keep him safe, I’d never been afraid, but I was afraid now. Afraid I’d been enough for the boy but wasn’t enough for the man who had experienced life in ways most hoped to avoid. Afraid of another rejection, because deep down, he knew it too. “You already have.” My voice broke on the last word. I bit my lip to keep the angry tears at bay. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?
“Bree?” He grasped my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes when I tried to look away. “What…What did I do?” I shook my head, synching my eyes shut. “Look, I’m sorry I had to leave. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye, Bree, but I was a kid. I didn’t know what else to do.” He wiped my eye as a stubborn tear broke free. “Please, Bree, don’t cry.” He sat up on his knees, pulling me with him until we were face to face in the darkness.
“It’s not that,” I sniffed, angry with myself for letting him see me like this. “I’m over it.” And I was. I couldn't pinpoint when, but I'd forgiven him for leaving. I pulled out of his grasp, running my fingers through my hair to get it out of my face. “As much as I ever will be.”
“Then, what did I do? Tell me how to fix this.”
“The other women, Thomas,” I started, knowing he would take my words the wrong way. I didn't begrudge him being with other women; I just wanted to be one of them.
“All the women you were with after you left.” He sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling. “I know you said there weren’t that many but there were some, right?”
“Yes, Bree. I’m not going to lie to you. There were a few, but never anyone like you…like we were. Not even close.”
“Did you…you know, make love to them?” The words fought me coming out, mostly because I already knew the answer. But the masochist in me needed to hear him say it.
“Did I have sex with them?” He shifted nervously, clasping his hands in front of him as he braced himself on his thighs. “Do you really want to talk about this?”
“Not the details, no, but I do want to know.”
“Yes, Bree," he said, looking over at me before casting his eyes to the floor. "I know how cliché this sounds, but it didn’t mean anything.”
He could make love to a woman he didn’t care for, but he could barely kiss me without pushing me away.
With his face in his hands, he sighed, “You’re killing me, Breelynn. Tell me what you’re thinking. If it’s the women, I’m sorry about that too. I was alone and, I know it doesn’t erase the past, but I hated myself afterwards. All it did was magnify how low I’d sunk; how much I missed you.”
“It’s not the women," I admitted. "Not really. It’s me, Thomas.” His hands fell from his face as he stared, perplexed, waiting for me to continue. “It’s just that I thought we... I thought I meant more... Just forget it. You told me you didn’t want to lose your job over…” I could barely get the words out, “meaningless sex. But then when you kissed me…I guess I thought you’d changed your mind, but then you pushed me away, again. Am I not good enough even for that?”
He stared at me for what felt like forever, processing my words as the understanding in his eyes clouded with anger. His voice shook with the frustration he was clearly trying to contain. He grasped my hands and moved to the floor in front of me. “Breelynn, you could not be more wrong,” he started, shaking his head, with his lips pressed in a firm line. “I can’t believe you’ve been walking around thinking that was why I pushed you away all this time. When we went shopping? When you helped me paint?" He paused for confirmation, but I stubbornly looked away. "During the movie tonight?” I nodded. “Do you really think I don’t want you?” Sitting up on his knees so we were closer to eye level, he held my face in both hands and looked intensely into my eyes, “If I were less of a man, I’d take you into that bedroom and show you just how wrong you are.
“Breelynn, I have wanted you since the first time I saw you across Katy’s front yard. And then, to come back and see the beautiful woman you’ve grown into… Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve spent awake just knowing you were sleeping down the hall? Imagining what you were doing. Wondering if you were thinking about me.” He shook as if shaking off a chill. “Hell, I was so tongue-tied the first few days after I got back, I couldn’t bring myself to speak to you. I was afraid you’d shoot me down.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s the truth. Then, after seeing you with Jenny and your parents, how warm and caring… I knew I’d never be good enough. If you knew half the things I’ve done just to get by, you’d realize I’m not worth the dirt you walk on. That’s why I pushed you away.
“Look what I’ve done already. Knowing you deserve a million times better, I still very nearly took you the other night for myself. And then tonight, if you hadn’t…”
“Started crying like a little
baby?”
“You are my weakness, Breelynn, but you deserve better than what I can offer tonight.”
My head was spinning. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Watching him intently, I asked, “Do you love me, Thomas?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” He said, pulling me from the couch to straddle him in the floor. “After that spill and you still have to ask. I love you, Breelynn. You are the smartest, most thoughtful, and most devastatingly beautiful woman I have ever met in my life. His eyes pleaded for acceptance. I could feel it down to my bones. Feeling a new sense of power at his revelation, I leaned close to his ear and breathed, “You can kiss me now, Thomas.”
He sighed with his eyes closed tightly. “Are you absolutely sure, because if you stop me again—" I lightly brushed my lips over his until he opened his eyes. The fire there scorched me from head to toe. Tugging gently on his lower lip, he finally gave in.
“Bree,” he gasped, gripping my back and pulling me until our stomachs met. His mouth explored mine like it’d never been there before. And it never had, not like this. Not without fear of being walked in on, or fear of the other’s thoughts. This was raw and bare, beautiful, like I’d always imagined it would be. With his hands supporting my thighs, he lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Couch or bed?” he breathed, kissing along my collarbone.
“Bed,” I moaned as he pulled my shirt and bra strap off my shoulder giving it a playfully nip.
He chuckled against my skin as he moved us back to the couch, kissing his way up to my mouth. “I promise.” His tongue flicked the roof of my mouth. “One day I am going to take you to that bedroom and show you exactly what I’ve had on my mind all these years,” he pulled his shirt off and dropped it to the floor, “but you won’t be walking back across that street to your parent’s house afterwards.” Breathing heavily, I scooted up, away from him. His eyes playful, he reached out and pulled me back down, “Oh, no, where do you think you're going?”