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“All right,” he said, nodding. I could see him straightening his neck, feeling the confidence return. “Thank you, Fox. For everything. For this, for the place to stay, for…” He drifted off, although I was pretty sure I could guess what he was about to thank me for.
“Don’t worry about it. I’d help out any of my friends. You’re a friend now.”
“Right… friend.” His lips twisted for a second before returning to a smile. “You know… for a second there, you got so intense… I thought you were about to yell at me to drop and give you twenty.”
I was caught by surprise at that and laughed. “No, no. I’m not a drill sergeant.” I cocked my head to the side, smiling. “Unless you want me to be?”
“I mean…” He laughed then, the heaviness of our previous moment lifted. “Go, do it. Tell me to squat or something.” He wiggled his shoulders, flexed his neck side to side.
“I’m not drilling you, Jonah.”
As badly as I want to, I won’t.
“Come onnn, just a minute of it. Give me a ‘drop and—’ Okay?”
“Jonah, it’s—” I glanced at the clock and my jaw dropped. “Holy shit, it’s three thirty in the morning.” Had Jonah lost it? Had I lost it? Was this all some kind of crazy fever dream that I was about to wake up from?
“And? Did you have a bedtime you didn’t tell me about?” Jonah asked.
I crossed my arms, smirking. “Listen here, Mr. Gerber, I’m actually saying the opposite: I’m usually out starting my nights in the club at this time. I’ve got places to be. Drinks to have.” I fist-pumped feebly into the air.
“Mhmm,” Jonah said. “Whatever, yell at me for a minute. I want to get pumped up. It’ll take me back to my time in the academy.” He took a step back and began to stretch, holding his arm against his chest and twisting, making the skin pull tight against his abs, highlighting that lithe body of his. He repeated with the other arm and then did a few other stretches. I shook my head, smiling and having a hard time believing this was real life.
“Oh, and enough with the Gerber baby thing, all right?” Jonah’s face was stern. For a moment I thought I had crossed a line with my last jab. “Focus on my Pedialyte sponsorship instead.”
I snorted in surprise at that. Jonah joined in the laughing.
“Okay, and… go.” Jonah clapped his hands and got into a ready position, still laughing.
“All right, now that I know I have the face of Pedialyte with me, go ahead and give me five push—”
“Wait, wait, wait, what is this? The preschool edition? Is Barney about to come out wearing a combat uniform? ‘Go ahead’? I didn’t come over here stooped over on a walker with tennis balls for wheels, okay? Give me the full army deal, Fox. Or sorry, sir!”
I scoffed at that image. “You want me to get hard on you, huh? All right, tough guy.” My lids narrowed to slits. I built up the energy in my chest and made sure to project as loud as I could. “Drop down and give me twenty fucking push-ups, you little fucking rotten lima bean!”
Jonah dropped but not before I saw his face contort into a hidden laugh. “Lima bean?” I heard him say under his breath as he went into the push-ups.
“Yes! I accidentally ate a bad one this afternoon for lunch! And I’m still thinking about it, you puny little stick ant!”
Jonah collapsed at that, falling onto the floor in a heap of laughter. There were even a few snorts in the mix, although those may have come from me.
I helped him back up onto his feet. “You owe me about nineteen and a half push-ups,” I said, back in my regular speaking volume.
“You can get them tomorrow,” Jonah said, residual laughs still sounding from the two of us.
We moved over to the couch and slumped down. Even with how late it was, I didn’t feel like the night was over.
“Where are you from, Fox? I can’t place you.” Jonah was looking my way. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, arm on the armrest, legs out and open. He looked comfortable. For some reason, that made me really happy.
Funny. And here I am wanting to place you on my lap.
“My father was born in London. His entire family was—still is—over there. He came to the states when he was twenty. Met my mom here in Miami. She had just come from Cuba, working at a sandwich shop at the time. The rest is history.” Talking about myself—not something I enjoyed, but as comfortable as Jonah looked was as comfortable as I felt. There was something about his presence that dropped some of the walls I had built around myself.
