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“Ugh, fuck. You’re right and you’re wrong.”
Her head shook slightly. “Go on.”
“So no, we couldn’thave had that talk then and there, and we didn’tneed one. Because from my point of view we had already established that silent communication where we trust each other. And when Ilooked at you, Icould tell you thought the worst of me. It may sound lame, but…Ireally wish you didn’t.”
“Zach, Idon’t…”
“Nope.” Iinterrupted her apology. “You and I, we’re friends, we’ve known each other for three years now, all very shallow, on-the-surface stuff. And even though we’re not in aromantic relationship, it’simportant to me that you know these two things about me. One”—Ilifted afinger between us—“Icare for you. Icare for my friends without exceptions and you’re one of them. I’dnever do anything to intentionally hurt you.”
Laura remained silent, her rapt attention on me.
“Two, Inever lie or cheat. Dating someone without telling you would’ve been both, and Idon’tdo that.”
It sounded like apromise you said in amonogamous relationship, which it sort of was, minus the love part.
“Okay.” She peered at me through her thick lashes.
Ibumped my arm with hers. “Don’tforget that. Even if we can’ttalk, Iwant you to remember that always.”
“Will do.” Her hand reached for another blade of grass, hovering over it. Imissed these fingers too. Digging into my skin, of course. Instead of tearing one, she skimmed the pads of her fingers on it back and forth. “Do you really care about what Ithink of you?”
Did Ireally care though, about all of their opinions? Friends, and people in general, waltzed in and out of my life, stated their opinions of me, the good and theyou’re an assholeones freely, and Inever lost sleep over them. Laura writing me off as ajerk actually hurt and Idid, to some degree, lose sleep over it. Ichalked it up to me growing sentimental with age.
“All my friends’ opinions matter to me.” Ishrugged it off.
She mulled over my explanation in her head. “Okay, friend.”
Igathered astray lock of her silky hair hanging down her face. The slight whiff of strawberry Icaught before turned into an assault on my nose as Idrew it to my face, twirling it around my finger as she did with the blade of grass. It was aheady feeling, being this close to her.
It made me want things.
It made me want to kiss her.
Not get-her-naked kind of kiss. Just to kiss her, as simple as that. To brush her full lips with mine. For my tongue to slip out and taste them. To be comforted by them after this fucked-up week. Akiss to make the outer world disappear, nothing besides Laura and me. Kissing.
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
Iignored that very legitimate question from my brain, blaming it on this fucked-up week apart. Ignored it and went on to release her, to stroke her cheek with the back of my hand.
“This color suits you.” Ireferred to her blush. “With these craters you look like the planet Mars.”
“Huh?” She breathed alaugh, though it sounded deeper. My breath was just as labored from her letting me touch her however Ipleased. “What are you talking about and why are you so random?”
“Your freckles—they look like craters, and your cheeks are so flushed they look like Mars. Not random at all.” My finger halted on one freckle and Idrew small circles around it. “Here’sH. G. Wells.”
“More randomness.” Laura restrained her grin. Her eyes were so close to mine, and the glimmer in them flashed with the sun, her chest rising and falling. “Elaborate.”
“Since you asked.” Imarked each and every freckle with my fingertip. “Some craters on Mars were named after science fiction authors, and H. G. Wells is one of my favorites.”
“But you’re so…grounded.” She raised an eyebrow. “Science fiction, really?”
Ah-ha, more things she didn’tknow about me, and Iwas happy to share with her. “Yes, really. Istarted reading them when Iwas akid and have been fascinated with them ever since. It’sthe concept of faraway planets.”
Irubbed one spot at the hollow of her cheek, coaxing another strained breath out of her. “For them, we’re nothing, even less than nothing. It was my escape, imagining there’san alien up there who couldn’tgive two shits about my grades as akid or if Ibilled three hundred hours or three, these days.”
“Ilike that idea. I’mgoing to use it.” She winked, referencing to what Itold her at Gwendoline’sfrom what seemed like alifetime ago.
“By all means.” Ireciprocated by repeating her words on my lips.
“Thor, are you still upset?”
“Water under the bridge.” Iwrapped her into aside hug, skimming my hand over her arm. “It did get me hard kissing you like that, all pissed off. Want to reenact it as foreplay next time?”
“Zach.” She elbowed me, her shoulders shaking and surprisingly not trying to kick me off. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Iknow.”
We sat together, silent, content.
At last, the peace of mind I’dbeen seeking descended on me.
