Relationship Goals

by Christina C Jones

  The one I’d be speaking at.

  So, what better time to announce me as the fresh, new face of the magazine?

  “I... I am incredibly flattered by the offer,” I told her, stammering over my words. There had been no rumors, no whispers about anything like this, so the news really did catch me off guard. “But, as you know, I’m still head beauty editor at Sugar&Spice. Not only did I work hard for that position, but I greatly value that I get to work so closely with Cameron Taylor. I don’t want to lose that, or risk Cam feeling as if I’ve betrayed her.”

  Rose nodded. “Understandably so, of course. You should talk to Cameron about this – I think she would agree that this is a growth opportunity for you. Cameron is a fabulous woman, and S&S is a fabulous magazine, but your talent is underutilized with that brand. Yes, you have some measure of control as beauty editor, but let’s be real, Noah... you don’t want to talk about makeup, hair, or clothes, at least not as much as you currently do. You want these women drinking plenty of water, dropping dead weight partners, and falling in love with themselves. You are the embodiment of everything we want Glow Up to be about.”

  “It sounds amazing, Rose. But...”

  “Just think about it, Noah. We don’t need an answer immediately, but think about it. Our audience would be lucky to have you.”

  Two hours after that conversation, my head was still swimming. It was a genuinely amazing prospect for my career, something I would be stupid to overlook. I’d done a ton of growing and blossoming while working for Cameron, but Rose was right... I was tired of talking hair and makeup for the magazine. I lived for things like the Feeling Yourself forums, but the work I did for the actual job... I didn’t hate it, but it certainly didn’t hold the spark it used to.

  Glow Up could bring me a fresh start.

  Not to mention... it would mean moving to LA.

  I pushed out a sigh as I fell back onto the pillows in my hotel room bed. The only reason I was even thinking about LA was because of Nick, and that was... premature. With the way things had suddenly changed yesterday, I wasn’t entirely sure how that was going to go.

  I never bought into the “just go with it”, “situationship” thing that seemed to be so prevalent among my generation. You could have different levels of commitment, sure, but I wasn’t one to be left wondering where I stood. If two people were just sleeping together, fine. If someone was looking for a spouse, fine. But talk about it. Let the other person know where you stand, so they can decide for themselves if they want to stand with you.

  The last place I wanted to find myself was out here with my heart on my sleeves for another man who didn’t deserve it.

  That was the thing with Nick though... it wasn’t that I felt he didn’t deserve it. I wondered if he felt like he didn’t deserve it, or like it would never happen for him, based on what he’d experienced before. Even with him being pretty evolved, I was sure he’d never articulate that to me, even if it was the case. But reading between the lines, it was clear.

  It just seemed unfair.

  We – women – did it all the time , so it wasn’t like I didn’t understand. Protecting your heart was smart, and necessary, especially in the early stages of dating, when it could be hard to discern someone’s intentions. And I could only imagine how many times Nick had opened himself to someone only to have them tap out when they found out about his illness.

  I hated to even think it, but they were doing the right thing for themselves.

  I was an advocate for women to be selfish with their energy, and... taking on a relationship with someone with a chronic illness took a lot of it. If they felt they didn’t have the bandwidth for it, it was better to step away while the break could be clean, before feelings got too deeply involved. Women bore the physical and emotional load in imbalanced, inequitable relationships way too often for me to think ill of those who exercised their choice not to, when presented with it up front.

  But.

  It was really, really messed up for Nick.

  His parents had, luckily, been able to afford excellent healthcare for him, something I knew from one of the many conversations we’d had. Early detection, preventative treatments, and diligent care had all lent themselves to a situation where Nick had been able to avoid the more serious complications of his illness. While it could be unpredictable, everything I’d read – and I’d read a lot – suggested that was unlikely to suddenly change. Of course, the normal effects of aging were something to take into consideration, but we were still young.

  They were discounting him because of things that sounded scary, but in his specific situation, weren’t very likely to happen.

  But ultimately, what it came down to was... none of it scared me enough to overlook the possibility of what we could be. Maybe some of it was my grandmother’s lessons coming out, too. I vividly remembered her telling me not to hold the things people couldn’t help against them, and I tried to be conscious of that.

  Nick wasn’t about to become the exception.

  The only problem was... just because I liked him enough that I didn’t care about his illness, didn’t mean he liked me enough for it to matter.

  My phone buzzed on the bedside table, and I sat up to grab it, smiling as soon as I saw the name on the screen.

  I must have thought him up.

  “Do you have time for me to see you again before you leave? - Nick”

  Hmm.

  That... wasn’t what I’d expected to see.

  After he’d convinced me to stay yesterday, we’d never fallen back into the comfortable vibe from the early part of the day. We did the cooking, ate, and all of that. It was fine, but it wasn’t... like before. I went back to my hotel after dinner, and we hadn’t communicated since. I knew he would at least send me “safe flight” wishes, and was honestly what I’d expected this text to be.

  “My flight is a late one, 11:15pm. I need to be at the airport by nine.”

  It was approaching five now, and I still needed to re-pack my bag, and find something to eat before I scheduled my ride.

  “If you bring your stuff with you, I can take you to the airport after... - Nick.”

  I started to type out, “Why do you even want me there?”, then decided against it. Either I was going, or I wasn’t, but I wasn’t about to devolve into pettiness when it was unnecessary.

  Do I want to see him or not?

  “Give me an hour.”

  #

  “You look beautiful.”

  I offered a quick smile, and a thank you to Nick as he took the suitcase from my hand and ushered me into his apartment. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the aroma of something good hit my nose.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” he said, leaving my bag in the living room as he grabbed my hand, leading me into his kitchen. The lights were dimmed, an R&B mix was playing in the background, and candles were lit on the table, where places were set – beside each other – for two.

  “What is this?” I asked, turning to him.

  “Well, last night ended on a bit of an awkward note, and I didn’t want you to go home with the wrong impression. I like you a lot, Noah. A lot. I want to make sure that’s clear,” he finished, with his thumb absently stroking my palm. “Because I’m not sure it is.”

  “It was,” I told him. “But then it wasn’t.”

  “I know. I know. That’s what I’m trying to fix. I want to leave you with a memory of this trip that makes it clear I want to continue seeing you. That I want you.”

  I nodded, but refused to let a smile creep onto my lips, or get ahead of myself again. “This is a good start.”

  I let him lead me to my place and push my chair in, and then waited until he was seated too to take a sip from the glass of water that was waiting for me.

  “So, how’d your meeting go, with Glow Magazine?” he asked, passing me a bowl of salad.

  “It went well. Really well. I signed my contract, and next summer I will be the keynote speaker at the festival.”
>
  “Oh damn, keynote?”

  “Yep,” I said, returning the salad after he’d served delicious smelling grilled chicken and a baked potato onto my plate. “It’ll be the biggest thing I’ve ever done, which is a little scary, but also pretty exciting.”

  “Glow Festival is huge. Has traffic fucked up around here for damn near a week. So, I get it. What are you going to talk about?”

  “Um, I don’t have a title yet, but it’s going to be about being good to yourself. We tend to spend a lot of time on how to be good to other people, forgiving them, moving past their mistakes, all of that. But we don’t often give ourselves that same grace, and I want to address it.”

  Nick sat back in his chair after putting a little tray of toppings for the potatoes in front of me. “You know... I’ve never thought about that, but it’s true. Being your own worst critic, all of that.”

  “Right.”

  For a moment, I considered telling him about the job offer, but quickly decided against it. I didn’t need him thinking he might factor into the decision, for more than one reason.

  “What did you do today?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Nick shrugged. “Not too much. Spent a bunch of time thinking through this new film project.”

  “The sensually mundane thing?”

  “Mmhm,” he mumbled, then swallowed his food. “Been bouncing it around in my head.”

  “Am I still supposed to be the starring attraction? Is that why you’re keeping me around?”

  His eyes went big. “What? No,” he insisted, and I shook my head.

  “Nick, I don’t think that. I’m kidding.”

  “Good,” he chuckled. “The last thing I need is you thinking that on top of whatever else, from yesterday.”

  I stopped with my fork halfway to my mouth and put it down, letting out a sigh. “Nick, I don’t want you feeling like you have to walk on eggshells with me. That’s not a good place to start from.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, it’s not that. I want you feeling comfortable and secure. I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding.”

  “And I don’t want you feeling like you have to go above and beyond, with constant affirmations. Yes, we had an uncomfortable moment, yesterday. But if you say you want to do this, I’m taking you at your word, and letting your actions back that up.”

  Nick smirked. “Why does that sound like a challenge?”

  I shrugged. “You can take it however you want. Maybe you’re not up to it, I don’t know.”

  “Oh, I’m definitely up to the challenge,” he shot back, in a cocky tone that made me smile. “I’m making sure you know I recognize it.”

  “Okay. We’ll see.”

  “We sure will.”

  After that, we ate, and conversation flowed a little easier. A lot easier than it had before. We talked about everything from my wanting a puppy, to worst first dates, to him admitting to accidentally eating a huge spoonful of cottage cheese as a kid because he thought it was marshmallows.

  By the time we finished eating, and stood to take our dishes to the sink, I was back to the feeling from the morning before. I didn’t even know how to explain it, it was just... warm.

  And perfect.

  “So, hey – you never finished telling me about your idea for the film,” I said, turning in his direction after I’d finished double-checking to make sure I’d left the table clean. He was drying the last of our dinner dishes – I’d insisted he let me help.

  “Oh, shit, I didn’t. We ended up distracted.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, a little.”

  He dried his hands and then approached me, scratching his head. “Okay... what do you do when you get home every day?”

  “Uh... use the bathroom and take a nap?”

  Nick laughed. “Nah, like... as soon as you walk in. The small things.”

  “Oh! Well... I put my keys in the bowl by the door. Hang up my jacket or coat if I wore one. Take out my ponytail if it’s too tight. Take off my bra. Check my phone. Normal stuff.”

  “Right. Normal. Mundane. And I’m guessing after that, you fix yourself a glass of wine, or grab a bottle of water. Take a shower, or a bath. Tie up your hair, clean your apartment. Light candles and read a book. Masturbate. Play on your phone. Watch TV. Live-tweet. All of that.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I like how you made sure masturbate wasn’t the last thing on that list. Why do you I assume I do such a thing?”

  “Why in the hell would I assume you don’t?” he asked, stepping in closer. “If I looked like you, I’d play with myself every damn day.”

  “Who says I don’t?”

  He bit his lip, then chuckled. “Now see, that’s the type of thing... sensually mundane.”

  “Okay... I follow. But... am I hearing you say you want to film me making myself come?”

  “No,” he said, immediately. “Well... not only that. All of it. The different ways you come home every day – like, a week of days. I’m going to break it all down into like, half-second clips and split it all together, so it’s like... we see a progression of you coming through the door, right? But every movement is from a different clip, so it keeps the mind engaged, searching for the connections... searching for a label on the wine bottle, for the title of a book... for a hint of skin. I’m not sure I’m explaining it well out loud, but it’s clear as hell – and dope as hell – in my head.”

  I nodded. “Actually, I think I follow you. And... it does sound dope. Really dope.”

  “So...?”

  I smiled. “So, what?”

  “So, are you down? It’ll all be tasteful, I swear. You’ll see it before anybody else does, and if you’re not comfortable with it, no one ever will,” he assured, taking my hand in his.

  “Well, your argument does sound pretty compelling, but I have a question... what’s in it for me?” I grabbed a handful of his shirt, tugging until he stepped forward, which put him right against me.

  He moved his hands to my waist, fingers digging into the soft fabric of my tank dress. “Endless gratitude for your contribution to the arts.”

  “Uh huh. What else?” I grinned as he walked me backward, until the smooth, thick wood of his kitchen table hit the backs of my thighs.

  He dipped his head, brushing my mouth with his before he went lower, to my collarbone, then back up to my neck. “What else do you have in mind, gorgeous?”

  Before I could answer that, he kissed me. One hand at my waist, the other buried in my hair as he devoured my mouth in a way he hadn’t before. I groaned, draping my hands over his wide shoulders as his tongue dipped and explored in my mouth, tasting and savoring me. Or at least, that’s how it felt.

  He kissed me until we were both out of breath, and when he finally pulled back, I nodded. “I’ll accept as many more of those as you’re willing to give,” I breathed, and Nick chuckled, giving me just enough time for a good inhale before he was on me again, and I was all into it. Maybe too into it, trailing my fingers through his newly thickened facial hair, running my hands over his chest, purposely pressing myself closer to him. But I wanted... more. He groaned into my mouth, obviously enjoying it when I slipped my hands underneath his shirt, pressing my nails into to the bare skin of his back.

  And since he enjoyed that, there was no question in my mind as I moved my hands to the front, outlining the definition in his stomach before I slipped lower, that he would enjoy—

  “Whoa,” he said, grabbing my wrist to remove my hand from his shorts. “Noah... that’s not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” I asked, wrapping a handful of his tee shirt around my fist again. “I haven’t been touched in months, and we have at least thirty minutes before I need to leave for the airport.”

  He chuckled, then released my wrist to prop his hands on either side of me on the table. “We can’t. Not until you’ve been tested.”

  “Oh. Nick, I get regular STD screenings, and I am completely clear of everything. I keep records, and I can show you.”


  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “And STD tests are part of my monthly health screenings with my doctor, so I can show you the same thing. But... that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  My eyebrow lifted. “Oh?”

  He took a deep breath, and then brought his gaze to mine. “Noah... I can’t take any chances with the possibility of passing full blown sickle cell disease down to a child. It’s genetic. My father had the disease, my mother didn’t, but she had the trait, so I have the disease. If you have the trait, then that means biological children are out of the equation for us. Now, I know you’re probably thinking, “who said anything about kids”, and I know we’re not even close to a step like that. But... shit happens, even with protection. I don’t want to take any chances. I hope that doesn’t upset you.”

  “Upset me?!” I said, louder than intended, and then shook my head. “No, not at all. I... I appreciate it that you’re so conscious of it, and I have no problem with getting tested, if it eases your mind. But... what does it mean for us if... I do have it?”

  He leaned in close again, brushing my lips with his. “That is a bridge we’ll cross if we come to it. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “I want you to know, this says lot to me about the kind of man you are. But it does not help my horny situation,” I giggled, but Nick’s expression grew serious.

  “Nobody said I have to send you home with an unfulfilled appetite, gorgeous.”

  I barely had time to let out a little shriek before Nick’s hands gripped me under my ass, using the hold on my thighs to pick me up. He sat me down on the end of the heavy table and then stepped between my legs, using one hand to pull me flush against him, and the other to tip up my chin before his mouth crashed down to mine.

  He didn’t stay there long, choosing instead to drop his mouth to my neck, sucking and biting until I whimpered. My mouth fell open, offering nonsensical sounds as he connected to a spot underneath my jaw that seemed to have a direct connection between my legs. His hand moved, sliding between my thighs, slipping my panties to the side.

  He brought his lips back to mine, swallowing my moan with a kiss. I rolled my hips, rocking into the rhythm he was creating with his fingers. When he moved his mouth back to my neck, my loud whimpers of pleasure filled the kitchen, drowning out the music that was still playing.