by Sky Corgan
Oh well. If I'm lucky, she won't stick to the routine I gave her. If I'm even luckier, she will stick to it and start bringing Willow along. Now that Willow is dating Peter, I imagine she'll be looking for ways to make sure that he'll want to stay with her, and that includes keeping fit. All of that cardio she does will keep her skinny, but she needs to be building muscle, too.
I sigh to myself, wondering why I care anymore. She probably doesn't even want my help now that she has Peter.
I finish my workout, take a quick shower, and head home in a blah mood. I open the door, and Max rushes out to greet me. His tail is wagging, and he's wearing his big dumb dog-grin, but the apartment feels oddly empty. For the first time in a long time, I feel alone.
I sit on the sofa, but I can't even motivate myself to turn on the television. There's an irrational depression taking over me, something I'm not accustomed to. I think I know what it might be from, but I try my best to ignore it.
There's a knock on the door, rousing me from my thoughts. I go to answer it only to find Willow on the other side looking stressed out.
“What's wrong?” I ask, instantly going into concerned mode.
“Do you have water?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Water. You know, the thing that comes out of the faucet.” She makes a knob turning motion with her hand in annoyance before pushing past me to enter the kitchen and turn on the faucet. When she sees water trickle out, her entire body seems to relax. “Oh thank God.”
“Your apartment doesn't have water?” I put the pieces together.
“No. And I need to take a shower before my date with Peter tonight. No one is going to repair it in time, so I'm going to shower over here. I'll be right back.” She skirts past me to leave again.
My mouth falls agape. She didn't even ask me. Didn't care if I had somewhere to be.
Once the shock wears off, I shake my head and smirk. That's just the way she is. Such a strange and selfish girl. I've never met anyone like her in all my life.
I pace my apartment while I wait for her to return, obsessing over her rudeness, images of her taking off her clothing in my bathroom flashing through my mind. I don't know why I'm thinking about it, but my focus is slowly steering towards a different direction. My offense at her rudeness fades away, and all I see are the images. All I can think about is the fact that in a few minutes, she'll be completely naked in my bathroom.
I grip my head with both hands and squat down to be eye-level with Max, trying to distract myself. He immediately walks up to me and starts licking my face. “What in the hell is wrong with me, boy?”
Willow knocks on my apartment door again before barging in. Her hands are full of all of the things she needs for her shower. Soap, shampoo, conditioner, a robe. I see no clothes in her hands. I think about complaining or saying something snarky, but then I decide to keep my damn mouth shut.
“Thanks,” she tells me before hurriedly rushing into the bathroom.
The thoughts return. There's no distraction that can possibly drown them out.
I stay on the sofa with Max lapping at my fingers, and I stare at the bathroom door as I hear the shower turn on. I know that she's taking off her clothing. When there's a change in the sound of the water, I know she's completely naked.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I tear my hand through my hair.
I know what's wrong, though. It's not just that Willow is in my bathroom naked. It's the compounded feelings of my loneliness and trying to cope with the fact that two of my closest friends are now dating and I'm left on the outside. My apartment feels lonely because I am alone. And I'm only feeling this way because I'm slowly slipping free from being repulsed by the idea of getting into another relationship.
Maybe there's an iota of me that's even jealous. Peter didn't even have to try to find the perfect girl. She fell right into his lap.
I tried hard with Taylor, and all I got was hurt. Nothing I did was ever enough.
But I know that I'm worth something now. Someone out there will love me for me. Willow did once...
That thought lingers with a bitter twinge of pain. At one time I was her love object, and I didn't even see it. I didn't take the time to see what a wonderful person she was. God damn, do I ever regret it now. But that's karma, I suppose.
The water stops, and my focus returns to the bathroom. The door opens, and she steps out in just a bathrobe. My heart sticks in my chest, and when it starts beating again, it's deafening. I feel like I'm holding my breath, all of the blood in my body draining down South. I stare at her stupidly, at the tousled wetness of her hair, at her smooth, pale, flawless skin without makeup on. At this moment, she doesn't even know I exist, toweling her hair off without so much as a glance in my direction. But at this moment, she's all that exists for me.
Willow looks at me finally, freezing in place. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head, trying to come back to reality.
“Thanks for letting me use your shower. I've got to go change.” She walks towards the front door.
“You're seriously going out in just a robe?” I stand to follow her.
“It's just across the hallway.” She gives me a sardonic look before shoving the towel against my chest and stepping out.
I wait until she's safely in her apartment before closing the door. I pull the towel away from my chest and stare at it, thinking about how she rubbed it all over her body. Silently, I curse myself for being such a pervert, but I can't resist the urge to draw the towel up to my nose and inhale her scent. It's fresh and clean and floral.
In fact, my entire apartment smells like her body wash. It's a good smell—a feminine smell. Almost like an aphrodisiac to me.
I look down at Max, but my eyes are instantly diverted to the massive erection pressing against my sweatpants. I almost double over to hide it in embarrassment, but it's way too late for that.
“Holy fuck, I hope she didn't see that.” I curse my stupid body for having a mind of its own.
The guilt is fleeting. I find myself drawn to the bathroom, to the strong scent of heat and femininity. When I step inside, I see that Willow accidentally left her body wash in her haste.
Briefly, I consider taking it back to her, but she seemed to be in a hurry, and I don't want to distract her. It's not that important, I decide. I can get it to her later. Either that, or she'll eventually come back for it.
I pick the bottle up from the built in shower shelf and pop open the top, giving it a good whiff. The scent intoxicates me, and my brain immediately associates it with naked girl in my shower.
Max is standing next to me, looking up at me in confusion. As soon as I notice him, I set the bottle back down and try to shake my perverted thoughts away. I need to get away from her scent.
“Is this what it's like for you, boy?” I talk to Max, trying to distract myself again as I go to open the balcony door...then every window in my apartment. “I can't be thinking about this.”
But I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about her.
Fuck all, she's dating my best friend. I have to stop thinking about her.
“I think I need to get laid, boy,” I tell Max as I sit on the sofa.
Suddenly, Becky isn't looking so bad.
Willow
What is it with guys and action movies? I suppose this is what I get for letting Peter pick the movie. Not that it matters. I'm not really watching it anyway.
He looks too perfect in a vest and tie. My heart still flutters at the thought that he dressed up for our date, even though we just went to the movies. To think that I have such a handsome, successful boyfriend.
As soon as we found our seats, Peter put the armrest up between us so that he could be closer to me. I want to be close to him, too. Oh so close.
We're almost an hour into the movie, and I couldn't even tell you what's going on. All I can think about is how my dreams have finally come true, and that this is the s
tart of an entirely new life for me. If things go well, Peter and I will eventually get married, and I'll have my happily ever after. The thought is so exciting it's almost too much to bear.
“Are you alright?” Peter catches me looking at him for the umpteenth time.
“Mhm.” I nod and turn away, still staring out of my peripheral vision.
My eyes keep dropping to his lips, and I wonder if I'll be kissing them later. The thought of kissing him...it does so much to me. So many unspeakably naughty things.
Peter scoots closer, and he does the classic stretch which turns into him putting his arm around my shoulder. I lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body. My pulse races just from being by his side.
The movie is over way too soon, and when we start to walk out of the theater, he takes my hand. A blush spreads across my cheeks from the affection. I honestly never in a million years thought he'd be like this.
Caleb painted him as a cruel, heartless asshole. But Peter's nothing like that. There's not even a shred of the man he is at work when we're alone together. He's so human and real and...just amazing. Simply amazing.
“Did you like the movie?” he asks as we walk toward his car.
“Mhm.” I nod. “I can't believe that guy killed his son.” It's the only thing I remember. The only part I briefly paid attention to.
“That was a twist, wasn't it?” His eyes widen.
My God, he has to be the most gorgeous man who has ever walked the face of this planet. And he's mine. All mine.
“Yeah, it was a twist.” Like us actually ending up together. Everything seems so surreal, but it has to be because this is new to me.
“Well, it's kind of late.” Peter glances up at the stars. “I suppose we should go home.”
My heart shoots up to my throat as I catch the implication of his words. Home. Home doesn't mean home. Home means sex.
My palms instantly begin to sweat, and a million different things race through my mind at once. In the forefront is Caleb telling me that Peter is a player. If we have sex now, will he get bored with me and kick me to the curb? I don't want that. Besides, we just started dating, so it would be irrational to jump into bed this quickly.
But will he think I'm a prude if I say no? I don't want to turn him off by making him think that I don't want him. Because that's certainly not the case. I do want him. I want him inside of me so badly. But I just can't risk losing him.
I try not to let my emotions reach my face as I torture myself over what to say. It feels like a no-win situation. I don't know what the right answer is, so I need to think with my heart, not my head.
I don't want to rush things. This is the first relationship I've ever been in that I've really cared about nurturing, and for that reason, I need to be true to myself.
“I think it's a little bit early for that,” I hesitantly mutter, fearing his reaction.
“Oh.” He seems surprised. “Well, we both have work in the morning. But if you want, I suppose we could go get coffee at Jim's or something.”
I'm confused, wondering if I read him wrong. “You meant dropping me off at my apartment, right?”
“What did you think I meant?” He quirks his head back.
Now I feel like an idiot. “I thought...” I shake my head. “Never mind. Yeah, coffee would be great.”
Conversation at the diner is sparse and a bit awkward. Peter mostly talks about the movie, and I listen. We don't linger for long, and when he asks me if I'm ready to go home, I agree and don't question him about it. He drops me off in front of my apartment, not even offering me a goodnight kiss. I'm amazed at how much of a gentleman he is. Again, completely different from how Caleb described him to be.
By the time I'm in the elevator heading up to the third floor, I'm swooning. I can't remember the last time a first date went so well. Peter is everything I ever wanted and more. I just can't get over it.
I walk in a dreamlike state towards my apartment and put the key in the lock. The door behind me opens, but I don't turn around. It's almost like Caleb's not even there.
“Hey,” he calls my name to get my attention. It's not until he puts his hand on my shoulder that I acknowledge him, a stupid grin plastered across my face. He looks mildly disturbed. “Well, I guess I don't need to ask how the date went.”
“Oh, Caleb.” It's all I can say before he holds a bottle up in front of my face.
“I brought you your body wash. You left it at my place earlier.”
I take it from him, and he immediately pivots to go back into his apartment.
“Wait.” I reach out to him, needing someone to gush to. I have to tell him everything. Everything about how perfect the date was—about how perfect Peter is.
“What?” He casts a glance over his shoulder.
“Don't you want to come over? I have so much to tell you.” I sigh to myself as memories of the night flood my brain like a pleasant montage.
“Not really.” His response is clipped.
Suddenly, I realize that something is wrong.
“Are you alright?” my tone softens in concern.
“Peachy. Just tired is all.” His shoulders slump.
“It won't take long.” I give him a hopeful look.
Caleb turns to me. “Listen, I'm glad you had a good night. I just...can't right now.”
I stand there speechless as he disappears back into his apartment. He's acting strange. Grumpy. I wonder if something happened at the gym today, but it's obvious he doesn't want to talk about it.
I'm a bit disappointed that I have no one to tell my adventures to. I could call my sisters, but they wouldn't really understand. They don't know Peter, so they can't fully share in my joy. Not in the way I would like them to, at least.
I like that Peter and Caleb and I have a connection, that I can talk to Caleb about anything and he'll understand because he helped our relationship come together—to blossom into what it is. And I'll be eternally grateful. I want to share all of my happiness with him—to show him that it was totally worth it. That all of his hard work paid off.
I decide to try him again the next day, heading over as soon as I get off from work in the hopes that he'll be home. I knock on the door, and he peeks out, looking past me as if he expects someone else to be around.
“Hey there, neighbor. I was wondering if you'd like to play a game of chess,” I say in my most cheerful voice.
“Chess,” he parrots. The heaviness from last night is still lingering. I can see it in his slightly furrowed brow and the darkness of his eyes.
“You're not busy, are you? Got a lady friend in there?” I tease, glancing past him.
He closes the door against his body so that I can't see. “No. No lady friend.”
“Then spend time with me. I miss you.” I pout.
“You just saw me yesterday.”
“It's not the same. Stop being a grump. Besides, hanging out with me will probably make you feel better.” I make a silly face at him, and he finally smiles. “See. Only a few moments in my presence and you're already in a better mood.”
He shakes his head at me before opening the door. “Fine. One game.”
“One game,” I do my best mocking Caleb impression as I step past him.
His apartment is dirtier than normal. There's a canister of protein powder on his kitchen counter and pans on the stove. It seems like he's let the place go these past few days.
Caleb goes to retrieve the chess board from his bedroom and meets me in the living room where I help him set the game up. The entire time, I wait for him to ask me about my date, but he doesn't.
As usual, he plays offensively, and it doesn't take me long to put him in checkmate. He curses under his breath and shakes his head. This is the first time I've ever seen him get frustrated so quickly, and it's a bit worrisome. Something definitely isn't right with him.
“What's wrong?” I ask in my most serious voice.
“I can't beat you.” He gestures at the board in annoyance.
“It doesn't seem like you're really even trying,” I mumble.
“Give me some pointers. I taught you how to play tennis. Now you teach me how to be a better chess player.”
I blink at him a few times. Teaching people has never been my forte.
My eyes scan across the board, and I try to come up with something useful, but I really don't know what to tell him besides what I already have. “You just need to watch the entire board. Anticipate the player's next move before they even make it. Carefully analyze what you're going to do and think about the consequences of your actions before you take them.”
He cocks his head to the side, giving me a sarcastic look. “Do you think I don't already do that?”
I inhale deeply, trying to think of something better to tell him, but I've got nothing. “All I can tell you then is to practice. Just like practicing sports will eventually make me better at them, practicing chess will eventually make you better at it.”
“Speaking of which.” He starts setting up for the next game, even though he said we were only going to play one. “Are you letting yourself go now that you finally landed Peter?”
“What's that supposed to mean?” My head juts back in offense.
“I haven't seen you at the gym, and your car is always parked out front after work, so I assume you haven't been going to the batting cages either.”
“Are you stalking me?” I tease him.
“I'm making an observation,” he snaps.
I lean away from him slightly. “Are you okay? You're acting kind of weird.”
He sighs, drawing his hand up to his face for a moment. “I'm fine. I'm sorry.”
“It's alright," I say, though I'm a bit hurt that he won't just spit out what's wrong. Whatever it is, it must be deeply personal to him.
“Seriously, though, have you decided to stop working out?” Caleb glances up at me.
“Of course not. I've just been...busy lately.” It's no excuse. He's right. I totally have been slacking.
“Becky asked me if I would be her personal trainer. She can't afford to pay me.” He makes another thoughtless move, one that will cost him the game. “I told her that if she sticks to this mini-routine I gave her, I'll train her for free.”