Between You & I

by Susan Cairns

  “Reid, are you here yet?” she answers.

  “Nah, the GPS says I’m about an hour out, but there’s no traffic, so I’m thinking it’ll be more like forty-five minutes or so. Are you at lunch yet?”

  “I’m on my way. We actually just left the church, so now you’ll most likely get there before I’m done." She sounds a little sad. “I was hoping to be there to greet you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We knew this would happen if traffic was light. It’s why you sent me a key. I’ll let myself in and unpack while I wait for you. Hopefully when you get there, I’ll be almost done so we can spend some time together,” I say as positively as I can.

  “I wish we had a little more time before you start work, but I get that you needed to spend a few extra days with your family. This is a big move for you.”

  I blow out a sigh. "Yeah it is, which is why I’m glad I stayed a few extra days.”

  “Me too. You don’t know how long it’s going to be until you see your parents again.”

  “True. Well, I’m gonna let you go. Just wanted to check in.”

  “All right, drive safe. I’ll see you when I get home… bye, Reid.” She sounds quiet, almost as if she’s talking through a dreamy sigh.

  “Bye, Jennifer,” I respond, then quickly hit the end button on my steering.

  “Shit,” I say as regret claims my thoughts. I need someone to distract me from what I'm doing. Pushing the button on the side of my steering wheel, I wait for the beep. “Jordan,” I say loud and clear, knowing my Bluetooth often calls the wrong person when I’m trying to get my brother.

  “Dickhead!” he answers after the second ring. “You turn around yet?” He chuckles.

  “Fuck, no, but I kind of want to, even though it makes me look like a pussy.”

  “Meh, at least you won’t look fuckin' stupid anymore.”

  “So supportive, little brother,” I say sarcastically.

  “Listen, you barely know this chick. She could be some crazy psycho posing as a Bible thumper who plans to chain you up in the basement and torture you.”

  “That’s doubtful. Besides, I do know Jennifer. We’ve been seeing each other for almost seven months.”

  “Yet you’re scared shitless to move in with her. Probably because you don’t know shit about her.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” I take a deep breath, knowing what I’m about to say will give my brother more ammunition. “But she’s a good girl, super smart, and has a great job, which is why I’m giving this a chance. Plus she’s been really supportive of me finding a lasting career. I'm just worried about things physically between us. I mean, she’s hot, has a nice body, but I don’t know if things are going to click.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you telling me you haven’t hit that yet? And you’re moving in with her? I thought you two spent the weekend together! I mean, you did at least a few times, right?”

  “Yeah, we did, but she’s got strong morals, and it never went any farther than second base.” I drag my hand through my hair.

  “Holy shit! You’re moving in with the freakin’ forty-year-old virgin!” he spits out just before laughter erupts through the speakers.

  “I don’t think she’s a virgin. At least, I’m pretty sure she’s not. She told me about a couple of long-term relationships she’s had. But I do know she’s not the type of woman to jump into bed without spending real time with someone, which is a good thing. I don’t need to be getting involved with a fucking bed-hopper.”

  Jordan continues to chuckle at my expense. “Well, I guess I have to take back what I said about you getting laid. At least you have an awesome new job.”

  “You know what, since you’re making me feel so much better about this, I think I’m good. If I need to talk it out again, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Don’t be a baby. You’ll be fine. And if things don’t work out with this chick, you can always get your own place. It’s not like you’re marrying her.”

  “You’re right, but maybe I should have done that to begin with.”

  “You probably should have,” Jordan says, his voice laced with sarcasm.

  I shake my head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll call you later.”

  “Please do, it’s the only way I can make sure she hasn’t chained you in the basement.”

  “Bye, Dickwad.”

  “Later, Dickhead.”

  I hit the end call button on my steering wheel.

  After a few more minutes on the highway, followed by twenty, or so, more of city driving, my GPS finally tells me to turn on the side street I’m looking for. For being in the city, the area seems pretty up-and-coming. I’m surprised by the amount of people walking around the main drag despite the fact that there aren't many stores around. Jennifer did say that the Elmwood Village was the “hipster” area of Buffalo.

  The other day she called to let me know she’d reserved a parking spot for me behind the building. So after making a quick right, I look for the sign with our apartment number on it and pull in just past the second line so I can back my Jeep in. After killing the engine, I flip my keys in my hand a few times while taking a few deep breaths.

  “Well, here we go,” I say, pushing the door open to step outside.

  Keys still in hand, I open the back door and grab two duffle bags. After hanging them crisscross over my chest, I make my way down the sidewalk to the back door. Jennifer let me know the outside door would be locked, but I try it anyway before inserting my key when the handle doesn't budge.

  It’s probably a good thing they keep it locked, since the building is one of the nicest I’ve seen since coming into the city. The majority of the buildings look like older houses that were converted into apartments, or possibly student living, considering I passed one of the state colleges not two miles down the road. Jennifer’s building, however, looks fairly new. The siding is a clear crisp gray, the lawn is manicured, and the parking lot is in good condition, unlike the side road leading to it.

  Moving here without visiting has also frayed my nerves. I have no idea where anything is or where I have to go for work tomorrow. And I have to be there at eight thirty, which means Jennifer and I will be doing a dry run tonight. To make sure I don’t end up crossing the border to Canada instead of heading to Amherst.

  Letting the heavy door slam behind me, I walk down the hall toward the front of the building, finding our door just beyond the row of mailboxes. After turning the lock, I fling myself into the living room, where I’m greeted by stark white walls, carpet, and blinds. The only color in the room is the beige sectional, which breaks apart the living and dining areas.

  Stopping where I am, I drop the bags then I take off to look around. The kitchen—white, of course—is tucked behind a breakfast bar and consists of a small counter covered with appliances. The sink, stove, and refrigerator all happen to be stainless steel. Beyond that there’s a long hallway that I’m sure leads to the bedrooms and bathroom. The scent of summer hits my nose as I continue to look around, which has me wondering where in the hell it's coming from.

  Peeking in the first door on my left, I finally find more color, although it’s beige again. At least it’s something other than white. The bathroom’s fairly large, with a full bathtub and double sink, but it doesn’t look lived in. There aren't any towels hanging on the hook behind the door, and the countertop is clear. I feel as if I’m moving into a vacant apartment instead of a place inhabited, particularly, by a woman. It seems as if she just moved in, yet I know she bought the place a few years ago. I guess I always assumed she was a girly girl, into frilly things with subtle pastel colors, but I guess I was a little off-base.

  The next door on the right seems to be the spare bedroom Jennifer uses as her office. On opposite walls are two large desks. One is covered in papers with a computer on the right hand corner, that I assume is Jennifer’s. The other is completely empty with cellophane wrapped around the drawers. This bothers me because I didn’t want her
going out and spending money on me. I told her as much when she offered to get a dresser for me. It was a nice gesture, but not knowing how things will go between us, I don’t want to feel indebted to her, not even for furniture.

  I turn away from the office and make my way down the carpeted hall to the last door, the one that leads to the bedroom. Before turning the knob, I hesitate. This is the room I’m sharing with Jennifer. The woman I’ve been in bed with less than a hand full of times, only after she put the breaks on the little bit of intimacy we shared.

  “I can’t believe I’m being such a pussy about this. Just go in, Reid,” I say to pep myself up.

  What a surprise—everything is white, from the walls to every single thing on the king-sized bed against the back wall. At least the nightstands that flank each side of the bed are black.

  There are a few things on the bedside table to the right, so I assume it’s Jennifer’s side of the bed. Something I’ll have to get used to, because that’s always been the side I sleep on. Sadly, the thought of asking her to switch crosses my mind. But this was her place first, I’m the one invading her space, so I just have to suck it up and learn to be comfortable.

  The closet door catches my attention, so I cross the room to take a look. I almost feel as though I’m snooping since Jennifer’s not home, but I have to know if she cleaned out a section for me. It’s not like I came here without any clothes. And now I sound like a dick, so it’s probably a good thing I’m doing this tour alone.

  Pulling the door open, I’m greeted with a fairly decent-sized walk-in closet, in which a whole side is empty. “Thank God.”

  I leave the door open and head back to the living room to get the things I brought in, then I go back outside to grab the four garment bags of work clothes that are still in my Jeep. Considering I didn’t have to furnish the apartment, I packed only the necessities and stashed the rest of my shit in my parents’ basement, for now. Even though I’m still having second thoughts about this arrangement, it’s too late to change my mind. If things get uncomfortable for either of us, I’m not against telling Jennifer that I need my own place. But for now, we’ll make it work. She’ll be covering the mortgage, and I’m picking up the utilities. I keep telling myself she’s a catch—smart, funny, has a great job—and I have feelings for her. I just don’t know if they're strong enough to be living with her yet. Scratch that—I’m good with living with her. I’m leery about sharing a bed with her. So I guess it’s good that the giant sectional in the living room looks comfortable and inviting.

  Taking several trips, I manage to get all my stuff into the house in about a half hour. Instead of piling everything in the living room, I walk throughout the condo, dropping boxes and suitcases where they need to be unpacked. Since I start my new job tomorrow, I know it’s in my best interest to get my clothes taken care of first. I’m elbow deep in the closet, hanging dress shirts, when I hear the door slam.

  “Reid?” Jennifer’s voice cuts through the quiet apartment.

  “Back here,” I answer, assuming she’ll figure out where here is.

  My garment bags are stacked on the bed, and I grab another handful of clothes as I wait for Jennifer to find me. Grabbing the hooks of several hangers, I pull the shirts free, then I head back into the closet to empty my load.

  A slight movement to the right catches my eye. Jennifer is leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed and a sly smile.

  “Hi,” I say and cross the room to her.

  She gives me a bright smile. “Hi.” Then she steps into the room, meeting me in the middle.

  My hands automatically go to her hips while hers move toward my chest. With a little tug, I pull her flush against my body then lean down to capture her lips. Lingering a few minutes longer than a normal hello kiss, I enjoy the softness of Jennifer’s body pressing against mine. She pulls me closer by sliding her arms up and around my neck, then she sighs when I break our connection, pulling back just enough to look into her big brown eyes.

  “Hi,” I say again, one side of my mouth lifting in a small smile.

  “I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she says breathily then leans her head against my chest. “How was the rest of your drive?”

  “Uneventful. Sunday was definitely a good day to travel. Barely anyone on the highway.”

  “Hmmm.” I feel the vibrations of her voice against my chest. “That’s good, I’m glad you didn’t run into any backups.” Loosening her arms and moving them to my shoulders, Jennifer leans back to look into my eyes. “Have you eaten?”

  “Yeah, last time I stopped for gas I picked up a burger and fries.”

  “Oh, okay. I was going to say that we could go out for something, or I brought some leftovers home from lunch.”

  “I’m good right now. I need to finish unpacking then get some things ready for tomorrow. By the way, I saw your ironing board in the closet, but no iron. I didn’t want to go snooping.”

  “Nonsense, it’s not snooping. You live here now.” She steps back again, making my hands fall away from her hips. She runs her right hand down my arm, finding mine, then laces our fingers together. With a tug, she moves us out the door. “Let me show you where everything is. By the looks of where your stuff landed, I’m assuming you looked around?”

  Now that we’re in the same room, in our home, things feel more natural. Almost to the point that I can’t remember why I was so anxious in the first place. Sure, Jennifer is a little stuffy, but she’s sweet and seems happy I’m here. With her hand in mine, my previous apprehensions melt away. Maybe things will work out between us. Maybe it’ll be different now that we’re going to be together all the time.

  “I did, but I didn’t go into anything. But what I did notice was the new desk in your office,” I say as I stop moving. Tightening the slack between our connected hands makes Jennifer turn to look at me. “I thought I told you not to go out and spend your money on me? That I’d get anything I needed once I got here.”

  She huffs out a sigh and rolls her eyes. “I needed a new desk, so it’s not like I went out of my way. I was planning on getting one anyway.”

  “Then why is the new desk still wrapped in cellophane and all of your things are still on the other?”

  “Because it was delivered yesterday afternoon and I haven’t had a chance to flip things around. I went out with clients last night,” she says.

  “All right, as long as you plan on using the new desk for yourself.”

  “I’m going to, so why don’t you plan on unpacking that room last? I’ll work on getting my things moved while you’re finishing up with your clothes.”

  “I can do that.” I give her arm a gentle tug, pulling her closer so I can lean down and steal a chaste kiss.

  When I pull away, I trace her bottom lip with my thumb as a bright smile forms on her lips. We continue our more-in-depth tour then go our separate ways, Jennifer into the office and me back to the bedroom. While she was showing me around, she mentioned that the chest of drawers against the back wall of the closet is mine and that it didn’t cost her a single penny. She explained that it was empty and collecting dust at her parent’s house, so she had her brother move it in yesterday.

  As I finish my unpacking, I think about the anxiety I had as I drove. Being here now, I can’t even rationalize where it came from. Jennifer’s a stunning woman, tall and slender, with a runner’s body, and her long wavy hair is the same rich brown as her eyes. On top of the classic good looks, she’s unbelievably smart. When we first started talking online, she was nervous about telling me that she was a lawyer and completely neglected to say that she had been named partner before she turned thirty. I don’t know much about law or the structure of a firm, but I know being named a partner is a big deal—something I reminded her she should be proud to share with me. After that day, she didn’t hold back, which is one of the things that cemented my decision to move and give us a chance.

  Now the only holdup I have is we haven’t had sex. Jennifer e
xplained to me, not long before we first met in person, that she has strong beliefs and morals, things that she holds above all else. Given what we’re doing is slightly unconventional, I told her I understood and would be willing to see how things go before taking it to that level. That was several months ago, and we still haven’t moved beyond touching and kissing, which is why I’m a little leery about sharing a bed with her. I’m not the kind of guy who needs sex like my next breath, but when I’m in a relationship and we’re living together, I expect to be intimate on a level that’s quite a bit higher than where I was my junior year of high school.

  Blowing out a breath, I make a mental note to have the sex talk with Jennifer, as I pull out the ironing board to get some clothes ready for the work week. Immersed in what I’m doing, I don’t realize Jennifer’s back until I feel her hands wrap around my waist from behind.

  “I would have ironed for you,” she says. I can tell she’s looking up at the back of my head by the way her chin is resting on my back.

  “It’s fine, I’ve been doing it for myself for a long time. There’s no need for you to cater to me. When I’m done here though, do you think we can take a drive over to where the office is, sort of a dry run? I kind of need to know where I’m going tomorrow.”

  She releases my body, takes a couple of steps to the bed, and props herself against the footboard. “Yeah, absolutely, then we can stop and grab something for dinner and anything else you might need from the grocery store.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I didn’t even think about getting groceries. I need to pick up some stuff for lunches for the week.”

  “Oh? I’m a little surprised they aren’t taking you to lunch on your first day.”

  “Well, tomorrow I guess they’re doing something to welcome me. But the rest of the week I’m not sure about. Maybe I’ll grab some snacks and things that won’t go bad, just in case. After I know what’s going on for sure, I can run to the store.”