Chasing After Me

by R. C. Martin

  “More tongue,” he says, his voice low and rumbly.

  My jaw drops open and my gaze flicks to the guy in the chair. His attention is now trained on his phone, but he has ears! My cheeks grow hot as my eyes move to stare into the ones staring back at me. “Coder!” I hiss.

  He chuckles as he says, “I really don’t want to have to change my gloves—but if you don’t get down here, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands, which means I’ll have to change my gloves. Help me out, yeah?”

  Feeling both incredibly embarrassed that this is seriously happening in front of an audience—a distracted, uninterested audience, but still—as well as undeniably giddy that he won’t let me leave without a kiss, I check one more time to make sure we aren’t being watched, and then I lean down to give Coder what he—okay, we—want. Just before my lips meet his, he mumbles, “Make it a good one, babe.”

  “’Kay,” I breathe as my mouth finds his.

  With our closed lips pressed together, it only takes me a second to realize that he’s left me in charge of this kiss. Not wishing to disappoint him, I open my mouth and gently graze the tip of my tongue along the seam of his lips. He responds instantly, his tongue meeting mine with the same amount of timidity, and my stomach clenches.

  There’s something about having the power over this exchange that excites me. Thinking back on what he said to me earlier, I recognize my own desire—and I want a lot more tongue, too. Deciding to just own this moment and take this kiss, I lift my hands and hold his face, opening my mouth wider and thrusting my tongue deeper. He responds in kind, making me feel brave and beautiful, and for just a second, I forget we aren’t alone.

  Aware of the fact that I have to get going, or I’ll be late for class, I force my lips away from his, my hands falling from his face as I stand up straight and look down at him. He grins at me and then winks, making me smile, too.

  “That a girl,” he says, wheeling himself back to his client. “I’ll catch you later, Mack.”

  “Yeah,” I murmur, making my way to the door, wishing I didn’t have to leave. “Later.”

  As I head for the exit, I hope that soon comes very, very soon.

  It’s Friday evening, and I’m flat out jumpy.

  I haven’t heard from Coder. It’s been seventy-two hours since we’ve seen each other. More even. He hasn’t called, he hasn’t texted, and I have no idea what that means. My heart grows a little heavier with every passing minute that I don’t hear from him, which makes me feel totally and completely stupid.

  He’s not my boyfriend. I still don’t even know his last name! He owes me nothing, and I know this. Common sense is my constant reality check that all that exists between us are a few kisses—really, really, really amazing kisses—and a couple shared meals. I can’t even say for sure where this is going, and I shouldn’t be surprised by his silence. Again, he owes me nothing, and it’s silly for me to think otherwise.

  But that’s just common sense talking. My heart has a lot to say on the matter, too.

  There’s something that I’ve come to learn about myself this week, and it’s this: I’m that girl. I’m that girl who thinks that every kiss is a statement, and every touch holds meaning, and even if you don’t talk about it, time spent together is drenched in implications. For me—three days is all it takes.

  Three days with Coder is all it took.

  I’m attached—attached to the idea of us.

  I want it so badly. It’s stupid and immature and naïve, but I can’t help it.

  He told me he wanted more. He vocalized what I had already been feeling. I want to believe that his silence isn’t him reneging on what he said to me; I want to believe that he doesn’t kiss every girl like he kisses me; I want to believe that I can be the girl who gets the gorgeous guy—but it’s been seventy-two hours.

  Needless to say, it’s not hard keeping my relationship with Coder a secret from Brooke. There’s nothing for me to hide. I’ve worked the past four nights, and I’ve spent my spare time doing homework. (My focus has been really intense. I’d like to lie and say that it’s because I’m trying to fill the silence with something—but the truth is, I’m hoping the silence will end and I’ll need to be finished with my homework to enjoy the lack there of.) I’ve got tonight off, but as time continues to tick by, I wish I had the excuse to be anywhere else.

  “So, what’s the deal, you coming out tomorrow night?” asks Owen.

  He’s sitting on the floor with Brooke, the both of them facing me as they work spread out on the coffee table. When Brooke told me she’d be staying in tonight, I was surprised; that is, until I learned that she’s got work Sunday afternoon, and there’s a big party she plans on attending tomorrow night. Owen’s going, too. They keep trying to get me to join them—Owen even offered to play designated driver, seeing as word got out that I could cut loose like the best of them—but I can’t bring myself to agree. Not this time.

  Not only do I not have plans to get drunk on the regular, but I also need to leave tomorrow night open. Just in case the silence breaks.

  Pathetic. I know.

  “I’m going to pass,” I say for the sixth time.

  “Don’t push her,” Brooke tells Owen, a sly grin curling her lips. “She’s partied two weeks in a row. Our girl is definitely turning a new leaf, but we’ve got to ease her in. She’ll be ready for another party soon enough.”

  I roll my eyes at her, then shift my attention back to the textbook in my lap. I read two sentences before my phone starts to vibrate from underneath my leg. Like an idiot, I gasp, immediately reaching for the device. When I see that it’s not Coder that lights up my screen but Addie, my heart sinks and I feel my shoulders sag in disappointment.

  “Um, aren’t you going to get that?”

  My gaze snaps to Owen, and I realize that he and Brooke are both staring at me. Fully aware of what they’ve just witnessed, I plaster on a smile as I discard my homework and stand to my feet. “Yeah. It’s Addie. I’m just going to take this in my room,” I announce, sliding my thumb across the screen before her call drops into my voicemail. “Hey, Addie.” The cheerful tone in my voice is forced, but I hope she doesn’t notice.

  “Kenzie! Hi, I’m so glad I caught you.”

  I raise my eyebrows in surprise as I shut my bedroom door. “Oh, yeah?” I ask, making my way to my bed. I stretch out as she starts to speak.

  “Well, yeah. It’s Friday night. I wasn’t sure if you’d be out.”

  “Nope. Not out,” I reply, trying not to grumble about it.

  Seventy-two hours!

  “Well, what about tomorrow? Will you be going out tomorrow?”

  “Um, I don’t know.” I furrow my brow in confusion and ask, “Addie, what’s going on?”

  “Beckham told me there was a guy! He said you said there was a guy. I was going to wait until you were ready to call me about it, but then I got too excited. So, tell me about him. Did you meet him in class? Or maybe at church?”

  I laugh, wondering if I had met a guy from class or church, if he’d be the kind of guy who texted and called. Then my laughter fades when I realize that the guy I want—the guy who makes my heart beat faster than it’s ever beat before—he is who he is without apology. I didn’t meet him in class or at church, but that’s part of the appeal. He’s different. I like that he’s different.

  “Kenz?”

  “I met him at a party,” I admit. “He’s older than me, and he’s not a student, he just has friends that are.”

  “Okay, well, tell me more. What’s he like? What does he do for a living? And how old is older?”

  “Uhh,” I giggle, her enthusiastic curiosity breaking through my worry. I think back on every moment I’ve ever spent with Coder. “He’s twenty-three, so not that much older. He’s a tattoo artist. He’s really hot. Like, Addie—he’s hotter than Grayson.”

  When she bursts out in a fit of laughter, a huge smile spreads across my face. Grayson is her twin sister’s husband and my brot
her’s best friend. He’s family—not exactly my in-law, but I call him as such. When I was in high school, I thought he was the dreamiest. Even after high school, it couldn’t be denied that Avery hooked herself a good looking guy. For me to say Coder is more attractive is a big deal—but also just one of our inside jokes that we laugh about often. It’s during moments like this that I’m reminded I hit the jackpot as far as sisters-in-law go.

  “He’s also a phenomenal kisser.”

  She gasps before she cries, “You’ve kissed? I seriously cannot believe that so much has happened and you haven’t said so much as a word.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s all happening kind of fast and…” I let my sentence trail off, wishing I didn’t have to finish it. “Sometimes, I’m not even sure that it’s actually happening.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Before I can answer, my phone alerts me to another incoming call. When I look at the screen and see Coder is calling, I gasp, shooting up into a seated position.

  “Addie—can I call you back? I’m going to call you back, I swear. I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay. Is everything—?”

  “He’s calling! I’ll call you right back. Love you.”

  She starts to say something, but I don’t hear it, already in the process of switching to his call. My heart races as I press the phone to my ear, and I shake my head at myself, realizing my own ridiculousness. He hasn’t even spoken a word, and I’m over the moon.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mack.”

  I’m so relieved to hear his voice, it’s pathetic. But I don’t care.

  “Hey.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Err, well, I was doing homework—and then I was talking to my sister-in-law,” I stammer. I smack my palm against my forehead, willing myself to calm down as I ask, “You?”

  “I’m still at the shop. Closing the place out tonight and tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” I murmur, suddenly disappointed. I remember the hours of operation for Generation Ink posted on the door. What he’s telling me is that he has to work until ten for the next two nights.

  “You should come over tomorrow. My place. When I get off. I know it’s late, but it’s the best I can do.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, babe. Want to see you.”

  My skin breaks out in goose pimples as my stomach clenches in excitement. I don’t bother fighting my smile as I tell him, “Okay.”

  “Good. Listen, I’m manning the front, so I gotta go—but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

  “Night, Mack.”

  “Wait—Coder?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  Man—I really like it when he calls me that.

  I push my previous thought aside and try to focus on what’s on my mind. It sucks that he waited so long to call. It sucks even more that we have to say goodbye so soon. Still, determined to get something from our short exchange, I forge ahead. Anxiously reaching up to run my fingers through my hair, I ask, “What’s your last name?”

  “Bishop. Yours?”

  “Willis.”

  “Opposite ends of the alphabet,” he says, his tone seemingly contemplative.

  He’s right. We are on opposite ends of the alphabet. In so many ways, we are on opposite ends of the spectrum. Nevertheless, there’s just something about him. I still want more.

  Knowing that I’ll get what I desire tomorrow night, I smile as I say, “Goodnight, Coder Bishop.”

  “Night, Mack Willis.”

  When he hangs up, I throw myself back onto my pillows, laughing to myself before letting out a gigantic sigh of relief. I’m really glad that I get to see him tomorrow, and thrilled to know that the last three days of silence have finally been broken. Though, I’m still not sure what to think of those three days. I wish I could ask someone. I wish I could ask Brooke. She’d know. She’s dated plenty of guys.

  I discard the thought almost as quickly as it came. I know that I can’t talk to her about this. Not about Coder. Not when I’m pretty sure she still has an interest. She’s been talking about stopping by the shop for a follow up appointment with Pete in order to run into Coder. Nevertheless, just because I can’t talk to her about it, that doesn’t mean that I don’t miss her. She’s right in the next room, and yet there’s so much she doesn’t know. So much I’m just not ready to confide in her.

  Remembering that I owe Addie a call back, I wonder if she might have some sound advice. A small smile tugs at my lips as I suppress a laugh. Beck and Addie have been together forever. They’re each other’s high school sweethearts. All she knows about dating is what my brother taught her—and I really don’t need those details.

  I pull up her contact information, coming to the conclusion that this is something I’ll have to deal with on my own. If what Coder and I have is real, I’ll just have to be a grown up about it. As I hit send, pushing the call through, I decide that I’ll deal with all of that tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to luxuriate in the fact that he called. Finally. And I’m going to tell my sister all about him.

  My day at the hospital ends up being really great. It was a day my heart needed.

  Little Zoe got news that the transplant she so desperately needs is going to happen. They found a donor, and she’ll be going into surgery later on tonight. If all goes well, and her body doesn’t reject the transplant, she’ll get to go home soon. She’ll be cancer free! I’ll get to say goodbye—the best bitter sweet occasion I could ever ask for.

  In other news, Sheamus started his chemo treatments this week. Even still, today his spirits were a little higher than they were last week. Lance reported that, physically, it was his best day since his first round of chemo. Sheamus didn’t stay awake for my entire visit, but he did read me the first couple pages of our story before I took over.

  To say that I was proud would definitely be an understatement.

  Lena did stay awake for my entire visit. I was a little bummed that Maribel wasn’t around, knowing that she’d want an update about how things went with Coder, but my disappointment was soon forgotten. George was there, and he brought one of his other daughters with him. She sat in the bed with Lena, and we took turns reading. Lena loved every minute of it, and so did I.

  My time spent with the other kids was nice, too. They’re all patients. They’re all sick—but today was a good day. Sometimes, you just have to be grateful for a few precious hours filled with smiles, and that’s what I got. Now, I’m getting ready for a night with Coder.

  Owen came and got Brooke around nine. As soon as they were out the door, I was standing in front of my closet, trying to decide what I wanted to wear tonight. Considering we’ll just be hanging out at Coder’s place, I opt to keep it simple, changing into a pair of jeans and a tight, long-sleeved thermal top covered in a floral pattern that’s just obnoxious enough to be really cute. Having done my hair this morning, I leave it down, and I’m in the process of freshening up my make-up when my phone starts ringing.

  I hurry back to my room, where I left it on its charger. When I see that it’s Coder calling, I answer without delay.

  “Mack,” he says in response to my greeting. “Change of plans.”

  “Oh—”

  Before my heart has a chance to sink, he goes on to ask, “You got a bathing suit?”

  “Uh,” I mutter, totally caught off guard by his question. “Yes?” The word comes out sounding just as unsure as I feel.

  “Great. Put it on under whatever you’re wearing. I’ll be by to pick you up in a half hour.”

  “Wait—I don’t understand—”

  “It’s snowing, babe,” he states, as if this explains everything.

  It does not.

  “Coder—isn’t that reason enough for me not to be thinking about a bikini?”

  “Mmm, now you got me thinking about you in a bikini. I’ll be by in twenty.”

  My cheeks burn and I fight a nervous giggle as I pers
ist in my attempt to garnish some more information. “Coder—”

  “Trust me, Mack. This’ll be fun. Go change. I’ll see you soon.”

  He hangs up, and I pull my phone away from my ear, staring at it in confusion. I’m not sure how long I stand, not moving, my brain replaying our brief conversation over and over again, trying to make sense of his request. At some point, I realize that if I don’t get a move on, I won’t be wearing a bathing suit when he gets here. Tossing my phone aside, I strip down before digging for my bikini.

  The bra portion is a soft pink covered in white polka dots with a white ruffle along the top, spotted with pink polka dots. It’s held together by a string that ties at my neck, and a hook at my back. The bottom is much the same, lined with ruffles across the top. I try not to think of the fact that I’ll be wearing this in front of Coder, and instead focus on how excited I am. It’s not just getting to see Coder, but being invited to do something spontaneous and unexpected with him.

  Whatever we’re doing, it’s crazy. What else could it be—me wearing a bikini in the middle of winter? Nevertheless, it’s something new. Something different. And Coder promises it’ll be something fun. As I throw my clothes back on, I make a choice to keep an open mind. In all honesty, I don’t care what we’re doing, so long as we’re doing it together.

  I miss him.

  Pathetic. I know.

  But I don’t care.

  When Coder arrives, he greets me with a kiss that makes me lightheaded, and then takes my hand, hurrying me to the Bronco. He informs me that we have to make a pit-stop along the way, and he leaves the car running so that I might stay warm when he runs into the liquor store a block away from my apartment. He comes out with a six pack of beer—this time in bottles instead of cans—and sets them between us when he hops back into the driver’s side seat.

  “Pabst is for parties with a bunch of hang-arounds,” he tells me. “Microbrews are for nights like tonight. You’ll have to go easy, yeah? New Belgium doesn’t do bread water,” he says teasingly.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask with a laugh. “Or, better yet, why I’m wearing a bathing suit?”