by Jody Kaye
“I like it when you laugh. When you smile.” I lick my lips right as Aidy glances up. “I like you, Aidy.” Worry creases my brow. What if I never have enough to give someone as special as she is?
“We could put the whole thing to rest—Kiss and go back to, I don’t know—whatever we’ve been doing.”
“But if it doesn’t work out, you’ve gotten dressed up for nothing and we’ll both still be hungry. Can’t let a meal go to waste.” I give her a sly grin. The humid air in the car is heavy, weighing us down with hypotheticals.
“You don’t have to kiss me. We can go dutch.”
I touch the side of Aidy’s face. “Yeah, I do. But I said not in the van and the same goes for the car. You’re stuck with me for at least one more evening.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
The intimacy of the moment lingers. But, by the time we’re on the road, Aidy’s chattering about her day and a class she enjoys. Psychology of something-or-other that has to do with students. Aidy’s an education major. I’d thought it was for elementary school, but come to find out she’s studying secondary ed, and thinks maybe she’d like to coach high school softball.
“Color me impressed.” Morgan holds the door to the Mongolian barbecue restaurant open. “The way you are with Owen, I figured you wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.”
The scent of warm garlic, soy, and honey, and the sizzle of the large steel drum where the food cooks assault my sense. We stand waiting for the hostess. Diners pack the large room, leaving few open spots.
“I think we got here in the nick of time,” I say as the hostess hands me the menu. I shrug off my jacket and Morgan puts my menu down.
“You don’t need that. Come on.” He snags me by the wrist so I’ll stand. His fingers caress the underside at my pulse point. I only hesitate long enough to ask if it’s okay to leave the coat behind.
“Yup, bring your purse, though.”
We get to a long bar filled with vegetables and Morgan hands me a bowl. “Filler up, Sweet Pea. All you can eat.” He uses a pair of tongs to place a single green pod in my bowl and begins heaping his full of zucchini, carrots, onions, and bean sprouts before heading on to a second bar with meat options. The final stop is the grill where the chef topples our bowls. At least ten other meals are cooking on the round skillet.
The knives they use to push the meat and veggies around on the skillet are swordlike and as long as my arms. The chef who took our meals notices me watching in awe and starts juggling them. I can’t help but enjoy the show. I’ve never been to a place like this before. A second chef’s knives are tap-tap-tapping and crack a raw egg, frying it for someone else’s dinner.
“I want to add one of those next time.” I lean up to say in Morgan’s ear. He lays a gentle hand on my neck and while it doesn’t linger long on my back, shivers run up my spine.
“I was hoping you’d like it here.”
As each meal comes off, a chef grabs a huge scraper to clean the grill. The whole process is as interesting as it is entertaining.
Morgan waits until both our meals are finished grilling before we head back to our table.
“I love food!” Morgan moans, digging into the first bite.
I’ve noticed the man eats a salad faster than I do a piece of pizza. I’m a borderline junk-food junkie, and he’s the one who talks me out of country-fried steak for a Mexican-style bean bowl. He’s told me prison food was awful. The way he indulges makes my heart sing for him.
Morgan has been out of jail for longer than he was confined. I admire the way he still appreciates what he didn’t have for those months.
I also love how similar and different our current dinners are. Morgan suggested the same house specialty marinade so the underlying spices are the same. Mine is full of beef, noodles and bell peppers while Morgan’s is mostly veggies and chicken. We use chopsticks to pick off of one another’s plates and try a bit of each.
“Tell me more about your courses,” he inquires, eating up details of the psych class I’m taking along with the meal.
It’s so good that we’re finished before it seems possible.
“What do we do now?” I wipe my mouth and place the napkin down on my lap.
Morgan puts his on the empty plate at his spot across from me. “We couldn’t find anything to watch last night so I figured maybe we’d try the movies? It’s a little tamer than Sweet Caroline’s.”
“Not if we see Moulin Rouge or oh, what’s the old Demi Moore movie?” I snap my fingers. “Striptease!”
“You’re funny, Sweet Pea.” He leans forward. “What did you think of Sweet Caroline’s?”
“It was weird at first. Weirder Kimber works there. But after I got over the initial shock and we were hanging out with Jasper, I had a good time. I forgot we were anyplace I’d been told was unseemly.”
“Are you okay that I work there?”
I shrug. “Do you gawk at the girls?”
“God, no. The first time I saw Cece” Morgan shivers. “Geez, Aidy. No. It’s like my brain pops their heads off and puts my sisters on top.” Morgan covers his eyes. “I used to do that to her dolls. It made Celine so mad. She said those toys would come back and stalk me like I was Sid strapping a bottle rocket to Buzz Lightyear. Don’t laugh.” His chortle is as loud as mine. “And don’t speak a word of this. She can’t know she was right in any way.”
“Well, then it’s settled. If you’re worried I’m worried it’s not like Kimber or Cece wouldn’t narc on you, right?”
“Given Trig threatened to cut my balls off, I think everyone is Team Aidy.”
“He did not! When?”
“The first night we took off to the beach. Listen, I keep my job at Sweet Caroline’s to grab a few more bucks. If it’s a huge deal, I can quit. But I have to draw the line at walking my sister home. Her safety is more important than anyone’s hurt feelings or jealousy. We’ve only got each other. Cece calls and I’m there.”
“I can respect your reasons, Morgan.” In actuality, I appreciate he brought it up. “Do you mind if I tag along sometimes?”
“I was hoping you would. I’d like you to meet everyone. Be comfortable with the people I work with.”
I snag my purse again after Morgan tosses enough cash on the table to settle our tab. “I’d like you to meet my friends too. Although, since someone’s been taking up a lot of my free time this semester, it’s only my roommate, Hailey, who counts. She’s around until the weekend.”
Morgan pauses in the restaurant lobby. “Driving to Brighton isn’t cutting into your study time? Bring your books, I’ll cram with you. Maybe I’ll learn something new or useful.”
“You will?”
“I didn’t fail out of college.” He shrugs. “Are you still considering transferring to another school?”
Transferring to the university Morgan had gotten kicked out of was one of my many escape plans. The problem was, I’d have to wait months for an acceptance. Once the admissions office read this semester’s transcript, I’d be doomed to stay anyhow. “No. Maybe my major.”
I don’t want Morgan to know going to Kimber’s was the best way I’d found to get away from campus without explaining my actions to anyone. He faces his problems. I run from mine.
I also refuse to acknowledge rolling and shoving the mountain of blankets I sleep on in the closet while getting ready for our date. I’m biding my time at the dorm. I checked with housing months ago. There were no other spaces available. If I’ve managed in the room this long, with two breaks coming up, I can keep going. Maybe junior year I can get an off-campus apartment. I simply have to survive the next semester.
With my time split in Brighton, and the potential of going home more often after my parents meet Morgan, I can do this. The only stumbling block is my lackluster grades, and Morgan is offering to help me with that. On the drizzly drive to the cinema, I take him up on the offer. Considering how hard I’ve struggled with my classes, I’d be stupid not to.
We s
tand at the front kiosk trying to choose from what’s playing in the next fifteen minutes.
“I haven’t stood in line since I was a kid. We get our tickets online.” The nostalgia excites me.
“I figured it was a slow night and didn’t want to pick for you in case you needed subtitles instead of action-adventure. There’s an animated princess movie?” Morgan’s acrimonious tone tells me he’ll sit through musical scenes, but only if he has to.
“How about superheroes? Something for both of us plus corny jokes.”
“Something for both of us, huh?” Morgan snags my waist, tickling my side. “I’m afraid to ask who your favorite superhero is, and why.”
I pat Morgan’s chest when he’s quick to let go.
He takes my hand, looking at my fingers as if under a spell.
The cashier interrupts whatever he’s thinking with a loud, “Next!”
Morgan pays for our real paper stub tickets and we go inside, stopping for a bottle of water for me and an enormous Cheerwine for him. We’re both way too full for popcorn.
Scurrying to our recliners, he offers me a sip but I decline, pushing the horrible feelings it brings to the surface back down the way I had when we were at Sweet Caroline’s and he’d offered for me to try the drink from the bar. If Morgan had wanted to hurt me, he’s had every opportunity to already. The knowledge bolsters my confidence.
Our drinks go in the cup holders between the seats as the lights dim. Morgan pushes the button, reclining his chair almost all the way back. I keep my feet closer to the floor. Somehow by the middle of the show we’ve hooked our fingers together.
I’m relaxed. The gracelessness in the car when Morgan picked me up has long since abated and I’ve stopped worrying he’ll put his arm around my neck because he can’t. But he did the next best thing by holding my hand.
It would be a lie to say by the time we get back to my dorm I’ve forgotten Morgan’s promise. He rides the elevator up to my floor, checking out the building I’m supposed to live in.
I don’t live here. I survive. Living is what I do outside the walls that trap me. He walks me to my door and, when I invite him inside, I’m struck by the sight of my bed. My worlds collide and I’m not sure Morgan can be here. The same way Morgan didn’t want our first kiss to be in a utility truck, I don’t want him to kiss me here.
My feet won’t venture over the threshold. He moves between the doorframe, walling off the entire room. It’s like an emotional gasp of air. All I see in front of me is Morgan. He blocks my past, the way it is when we’re far from here, in Brighton, or at the beach where he’s taken me so many weekends.
“Hey, Sweet Pea.”
“Hey.” I duck my eyes to the soft collar of his shirt. My cheeks are hot and pink when I look back up.
“Did you have a good time?”
“Yeah. Did you?”
He nods. “Are we going to do this again?”
It’s my turn to nod. I press my lips together.
“There’s one last thing; is it okay to kiss you? Cause if it is, you need to know I’m all-in.”
I blow out a breath with a little squeak as I say, “Yes.”
“One close-to-hot boyfriend coming up.”
I laugh out loud as Morgan’s lips descend on mine. His palm reaches back as if his fingertips have itched to touch my hair. They massage the base of my neck in soft swirling circles. His lips are as tender. His tongue doesn’t force its way inside my mouth, but his teeth rake my lower lip before his forehead comes to rest against mine.
Someone clears their throat behind me.
“I hate to be that person.” Hailey’s fists ball at her sides. She’s shaking because she feels awful for interrupting. “I’m sorry, I only want to get in the room? But I can get my books and leave if you need some privacy?”
“It’s okay,” I reassure her. “We’re not kicking you out.” For as much as my body tingles from the kiss, I’m by no means ready for anything else tonight. “Hay, this is Morgan. Morgan, Hailey. Oh, she works at the movie theatre we went to!”
Hailey’s eyes go wide. Her eyes track Morgan from his head to the soles of his shoes. A burst of red flames up from her collar when she realizes what she’s done.
“That’s a coincidence.” Morgan noticed too and, from the look of it, Hailey’s attention has made him uncomfortable.
We let Hailey pass and we duck into the hall where she can still see us.
Morgan’s knuckles brush my cheek. “I’m going to go. I’ll see you this weekend?”
“Definitely.” Our time between now and Thanksgiving break is limited.
“Bring your books, Sweet Pea.” Morgan leaves a soft imprint on my lips with his and a rabble of butterflies take hold of my spine, lifting me onto my toes so the sensation lingers.
He squeezes my fingers, leaning to the side. Looking into my room, he waves as he says, “Have a great night, Hailey,” by way of goodbye.
I’m bouncing Owen on my hip while Kimber finishes packing the diaper bag. Aidy’s sitting with her back to us at the kitchen table. Her books are spread over the surface, and the more Owen giggles and squeals, the more she looks over her shoulder at us with doe eyes. I turn my back, trying not to give in to temptation. I love watching her with her brother.
Seeing how happy the little guy makes her makes me wonder about the people who raised Aidy. If she needs the same kind of future to be content. I’m not ready to settle down, but I keep returning to the feeling I had a few years ago; when I did, it would be with someone like her.
I’m not sure if that future is out of my grasp. I’m also not about to drag Aidy down when she’s still got a ton of potential.
Hence why, as much as I want to put this baby in her arms, I’m being more of a hardass than usual. Aidy hadn’t told me how far behind she was in her classes until the weekend after our first date. Seeing as the one plausible explanation is she’s been coming here so we’re able to hang out, I’ve put her on a study system we’d used when I was playing collegiate sports. There’s a timer set to ring in fifteen minutes so she’ll get a break. I’ll quiz her on some notecards she’s got wrapped in a rubber band before she dives back in. I’ve built an hour in between, so we spend some time together.
When Kimber’s ready I concede, bringing the baby over for him to leave a wet sloppy kiss on Aidy’s cheek.
Aidy baby babbles with Owen about having a good time and he jumps like a kangaroo in my arms. I hand her brother off to his mom and tell Kimber to drive safe. She’s meeting Sloan at the mill so they can discuss details of the upcoming trip. Afterward, everyone is going out to dinner. Aidy and I were invited, but I declined. I’m not ready for what everyone entails. It’s been three weeks with her as my girlfriend and, with the uptick in studying, I want Aidy to myself a little longer.
Aidy’s staring out a window when I walk back into the kitchen to make us a snack. My fingertips graze the back of her neck. Her shoulders reach her ears and she tells me it tickles.
“Eyes on the prize, Sweet Pea. You’ve got eight minutes left.”
I can only laugh as she groans.
The timer goes off right as I’m setting a plate of nachos on top of her open book.
“Ah, sustenance.” She drops her pen and picks it up, devouring a loaded chip greedily as if I haven’t been placating her with food every few hours. Chewing and taking a gulp from her water bottle, she smiles and leans over to peck my cheek. “Have I expressed how thankful I am for your help?”
“At least a dozen times, but if you’re going to keep kissing me when you do, I’m not complaining. What else do you have to accomplish for the week?” I ask, stuffing my face.
“I have this one paper due, then another in ten days. That’s what I’m working on tomorrow. I’ll get up early to do research so we can do something before I go back?”
“Wanna start it tonight? I can put on a movie to watch by myself. You being here is good enough.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “
I’d have to pull an A on this particular paper to get an overall B. It’s not as if I won’t work my hardest, but I’m doubtful it will be enough to scrape by.”
“I don’t get it Aidy. How did this happen?”
“It was just a bad start to the semester. Everyone’s entitled,” she repeats the same answer she’s given me on numerous occasions.
I lean forward and clasp her hand. “I’m not saying you aren’t. But I wish you’d told me sooner. You have to know, where I didn’t get to finish college, the last thing I want to be is someone who interferes with you being able to graduate.”
“This has nothing to do with you, Morgan.” Her words are unconvincing. Aidy stretches and her back pops.
“Break time. Get your sweatshirt. I’m walking you around the block before we start on the flashcards.”
While we stroll the neighborhood, I tell Aidy about the house Celine and I grew up in, leaving out my parents. She chatters on about her mom and dad and asks if I’m okay meeting them over her holiday break. Winning them over won’t be easy, but whatever this is we’re doing? It’s special.
I don’t doubt had I graduated, which I long since would have by now, I’d have met someone like Aidy. As it stands, we’re mismatched. We’re from polar opposite backgrounds. She’s got a bright future ahead and I’ll probably work for Trig the rest of my life. I shouldn’t have attracted someone like her, and I don’t quite get why the things I feel for her are at my core. But they are, and I’m damn lucky for it.
Back inside, we pop on the TV. I don’t have to fake it pretending not to put my arm around her anymore. Aidy snuggles in. She tucks her head to my chest and her hand over my heart. I touch my lips to her forehead and she looks up under her long, light lashes.
I put down the remote, tilting her chin and kissing her. It’s the sweetest sensation when my tongue slides over her berry-flavored lip and she opens for me, deepening the kiss.
We haven’t done much fooling around. Aidy’s let me kiss her like this when she leaves, though. It’s like a promise she’s coming back and I’m not stuck surviving too long without her. Honestly, I’m not sure how I had sustained myself. But maybe Cece was right and Aidy is the silver lining to my dark clouds.