Its just us here omnibus, p.65
It's Just Us Here Omnibus, page 65
part #1 of It's Just Us Here Series
He growled close to my ear. “So no kissing?” he asked huskily.
“No,” I said. He didn’t look happy about that. “But maybe a quick peck on the cheek to say ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’.” I added that to mollify him, but then he leaned in and kissed me slowly on the cheek while offering a low 'hello'.
“I deserved that,” I said, predicting that I would come to regret that loophole.
“You deserve so much more than that,” he said with great emotion. “I love you. I love you so much. I will give you everything I have to give.”
Okay... too fast. This got out of control waaaay too fast.
“Slow down,” I complained.
“Okay, okay. Taking it slow.” He held up his hands and scooted away from me. “Got it. I’ve waited three months... a lifetime and three months... what’s a few more matter? If I get to have you by my side, I can wait forever.” He grabbed my hand again.
“Mark! Dammit! I said go slow!”
“I am going slow!” He glared at me, but it wasn’t the recent sullen glares that had haunted my dreams. I had my teasing and fun Mark back. “Let’s go back to my place.”
“Zohmygod!”
“What?”
“Are you going to take it slow with me or not?”
“Of course! We’ll go at your pace. Whatever you set. That’s what we’ll do. You don’t wanna come over? Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning. But we can always grab some dinner before you head out if you don’t want to stay the night.”
“Mark!”
He grinned. My hand slipped out of his. He grabbed it again and stroked my forearm with his other hand. He leaned towards me. “I’m going to be so good to you. There’s nothing to be scared of. I won’t ever hurt you.” He leaned over me and kissed the other side of my face while saying ‘goodbye’.
“What was that for?”
“You’re the one who wanted to say goodbye so soon after we got together.” Mark was still grinning and couldn’t keep his teeth covered for more than twenty seconds. He also hadn’t looked away from me in a long time.
“I didn’t want to say goodbye.”
“Then come to my place.”
“Really, is that how it works? Just a few minutes to get to know a guy and then you have him over to your place?”
“Usually I go over to his. But that didn’t happen with you, did it? If I remember correctly, it only took a few minutes and you were up in my kitchen... that was basically how it worked between us, wasn’t it?”
“What?”
“I knew you less than an hour, if you don’t count those few minutes we met in the park the first time. What do you think—we probably knew each other for fifty or sixty minutes and yet you already invited yourself over to my place and made yourself at home?”
“I did not!” I had done exactly that.
“Oh you did, Cheese. You did. You turned everything upside down.” He was still stroking my arm and trying to calm me down. “Come over. Your parking spot is open. I still have your clothes, if you want them. Your sheets are still on the bed—”
“I thought your sister stayed over,” I said sharply.
“She did. And I changed them, but then I changed them back. That’s still your room... if you want it.” I must have looked like I didn’t believe him. “I swear, dude! My sister thought I was crazy when I changed the sheets for her. I’ll text her right now if you need me to.”
“I don’t need you to. But I’m not sleeping over on day one.”
“Okay, bro. How many dates is it gonna take?”
“We’re not dating!” I cried.
“No?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He sighed dejectedly. “You are the most stubborn person ever.”
“Have you looked in the mirror?”
“Haha, very funny.”
I stood and Mark followed... we pulled our bags together. “Are you coming over or not?” he asked with a sharpness to his tone.
“Sure,” I said. You thought I wouldn’t agree... didn’t you?
“What!”
“Why not?” I shrugged and laughed as he sputtered, then I explained myself. “Just for a few minutes. That’s all it will be. Let me see if you really do have my sheets on the bed.”
“I do,” he promised. “Give me a five minute head start.”
“Fuck you.” I pushed him into the door as we left the gym. We got in my car and I drove to his parking garage. He told me he would get me a new parking pass. I didn’t argue. We went up to his apartment. The minute the apartment door shut, he wrapped his arms around me and laid kisses on my neck.
“Mark!” I swatted his shoulder.
“What?”
“No kisses!” I pulled away from him. “This was a bad idea. I should go.”
“Noooo...” He herded me into the main room. “You’ve got to at least check out your bedroom.”
Not my bedroom. I felt claustrophobic. He was too close to me. There wasn’t any room for me to escape. He was watching me, peering at me. Go. Run. Escape.
I allowed myself to be pushed down the hallway, but stopped at the guest bedroom door. He was right behind me. This time he didn’t grab me or press my back.
“Aren’t you going to check the sheets?”
“Um...” I didn’t want to walk in there. My heart hammered. I shouldn’t have come here. This was way too soon. “I’m not that easy,” I said, trying to make light of my unease. “I won’t put out on day one.”
“Don’t I know it.” He laughed—sudden, blinding. “I won’t do anything to sully your good name. Your reputation is in good hands.”
“So now I’m living in a Victorian novel.” As a lady.
“I’m just happy to have you here. And to call you mine.” His hands slid around my waist. “You are mine, aren’t you?” he murmured.
“I’m not anybody else’s,” I confirmed. “No kisses.”
“Sorry. I can’t help it. I love you so much.”
“Okay. I need to go.” I struggled in his arms.
“Wait.” He walked past me and into the guest room. Then he pulled back the comforter and showed me the gray sheets. “See, they were always here. It’s your room, if you want it.”
“Thanks. I’m going to go.” I walked out to the kitchen and could breathe again. Being so close to the bedrooms made me feel squeezed. Being in this apartment made me feel squeezed.
“Let’s sit on the couch,” Mark suggested.
“Okay,” I said with relief. I wanted to leave, but also wanted to talk with him some more... forever. We sat on the couch and I made sure to leave over a foot of space between us. He laid his arm over the back of the couch and made an inviting gesture, the same as he did after my breakdown. I really liked curling up against his body, but wasn’t about to do it right then. Instead, I built a small barricade of pillows between us.
“What do you wanna watch?” Mark asked, uncowed by my Great Wall of Pillows.
“Dunno. I’m gonna go.”
“You don’t want to watch Survivor or Game of Thrones? How about a movie... When Harry Met Sally?”
“I don’t know.”
“I know you love that rom-com shit. Pick one out.”
“I don’t want you to call me the Meg Ryan character.”
“Okay. No Meg Ryan. How about Julia Roberts?”
“I love Julia Roberts.”
“You love her? What about me?” He smiled, but I didn’t respond. “How about Pretty Woman?”
“I like Pretty Woman. You would be the young, pretty Julia Roberts, but with the money of Richard Gere.”
“And you would be the old man like Gere, but living on the streets as a hooker like Julia Roberts.”
“I don’t want to watch Pretty Woman anymore.” Who would ever want to have the bad characteristics of both characters while their partner got all the good stuff?
“How about Overboard? With Goldie Hawn. She’s a rich woman who gets thrown off a ship and is rescued by a Beverly Hillbilly kind of guy, except she gets amnesia.”
“Um...” How did that relate to us? “So I’m Goldie Hawn? I need to forget my old life to find true love.” Great. I’m the woman again!
“No,” Mark said. “I’m Goldie Hawn. I have the looks and the money. And you’re the hot, working class guy from the real world. If anything, I had to forget my old life...”
“I don’t want to watch Overboard.”
“Oh, I got it!” He snapped his fingers. Then he pulled up Netflix and scrolled to Julia Roberts. He pressed play on Notting Hill.
“I hate Hugh Grant,” I stated.
“Have you seen this before?” I shook my head. “You’re gonna love it. It’s right up your alley.”
“Except that I hate Hugh Grant and would never watch this movie.”
“What do you hate about him? He’s so dreamy.” Mark laughed mockingly. “He’s nerdy and has brown hair that flops around—” he touched my hair. “And brown eyes and is super awkward, but charming.” Mark kept tousling my hair, which had grown out quite a bit in the past couple months.
“So I’m Hugh Grant,” I said with a resigned sigh. I swatted his hand away.
“Yep, you’ll love it. He’s a bookstore owner and everything. And he falls in love with Anna Scott, a world renown beauty and a famous actress.” As he described the story, Mark dramatically shoved his arm in front of our bodies like he was a circus performer.
“So now you’re comparing yourself to Julia Roberts?”
“I have the smile.”
He does have that. “But her laugh is important, too. It’s her signature laugh.” Mark tried to laugh like Julia. “That was horrible.”
“So I have a bad laugh. I’m still pretty.”
“I like your laugh,” I confessed.
“I like your laugh, too.”
We made it through the movie without me yelling too much. After I gave in to the fact that we were really watching a Hugh Grant movie (with his annoying accent, which I mocked mercilessly throughout the movie—to Mark’s displeasure), I actually enjoyed the show. It was cute. Predictable. Mushy. Sometimes I liked mushy. I liked movies that had nice, tidy endings. Happy endings made me cuddly.
By the end of the movie, I had crawled through the Great Wall of Pillows and curled up against his body like a happy puppy (a giggly, ticklish puppy). We laughed throughout. There was one montage that really hit home for me... the one where the seasons changed as Hugh Grant walked down the street. That’s what the past two weeks had felt like—like time was moving forward, but nothing sparked my interest. I later re-watched that stupid movie with Mark when we reunited after our horrible eight month separation and I nearly cried my eyes out on that stupid scene.
During those eight months apart, I experienced some of the lowest lows in my life; they piled up, one right after the other. But there were also some unexpected successes during that time. Our months apart should have been filled with a crazy amount of emotion. Instead, despite all the pain, it felt like I was in one of those stupid montage scenes where everything flies by so fast because you don’t have anyone to share them with.
The movie ended and I successfully extracted myself from his arms. I made it to the door despite how hard he was begging me to stay. Mark said he would need help getting up in the morning if he was expected to run in the park. I said I wasn’t going to sleep over on night one. He said that it was more like night one hundred and one. I said it was closer to thirty eight.
“Is that how many times you’ve been over to my place?”
“Just about,” I said.
“I feel like you honestly keep track. It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“It’s just an estimate.”
“Right.”
I walked to the elevators. He followed me, then turned me around so my back was pressed against the wall and we were face to face. He stood in my space and hovered over me, making it hard to think. The door opened.
“Stay.”
“I’ve got to go.” I escaped into the elevator without looking back.
“But you’ll come back...”
“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Do you have Tuesday off?” He held the door so it wouldn’t close.
“Do I need to have Tuesday off?”
“Yes.”
I raised my eyebrows. He was serious. “Okay, but nothing fancy.”
“Understood. I’ve been planning this for months. I can’t believe it’s gonna happen.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ll see. I’ll tell you if you spend the night.”
“Nice try.” I pushed his hand out of the door and pressed the button to close the door. “See you in the morning.”
“I missed this,” he said as the doors moved.
“I missed this, too.”
“I love you,” he said as the doors shut.
Done. End scene.
Had I just stepped out of a dream? What had I gotten myself into! We were very carefully not calling ourselves ‘boyfriends’. I was very particular about not using the word ‘dating’. We were just supposed to act like good friends again... but maybe with some benefits.
And we were back on track as if the past two weeks had never happened. This was a better result than I hoped for. And we were taking it slow!
I swallowed. How far could I go in a relationship? No idea. But if I got to be with Mark, then it’d be worth finding out. I had been miserable for two weeks and that misery was all erased in a few short hours.
My body floated into the parking garage—or maybe it was my spirit soaring higher and higher. Then I got a text from Mark.
~come back up~
= taking it slow =
~I love you~
I would open that last text four more times before I fell asleep that night, just to read those three magic words.
“I love you, too,” I said to my empty car.
I drove home and slept soundly for the first time in weeks.
The Hickey
[I’M INTERRUPTING AS THE AUTHOR AGAIN TO POINT OUT THE MEANING OF THE PHRASE: but nothing bothered. I can’t find a good place to stick it in this chapter, so I’m doing it here at the beginning.
Mark uses this phrase often, as does his siblings. Every single early reader has flagged this as ‘weird’ English. It was probably weird to me in the beginning too, but I think somewhere along the way I took it to be a variation on the proverb “nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Except, the opposite. So to me it means “but nothing’s lost so don’t be bothered (or can’t be bothered).”
I’ve caught myself using it several times over the past few months since it’s been brought to my attention. I admit, however, that all my Beautiful Readers have made me reconsider its validity and I’m no longer confident in it at all! The phrase is almost always accompanied by a shrug, as if to say, “I would have done it, but you won’t let me, so there’s no use in getting worked up over what I’m not allowed to do.”
I just asked Mark what the phrase means and he gave me that exact, disinterested shrug and went back to his phone. Sorry I can’t be more helpful. Surely someone out there can vouch for this mangled phrase!? Hopefully we aren’t unique? I tried Google and it failed. Okay, back to the narrative flow, which I never should have interrupted with this silly aside, but my compulsions won’t let it go.]
MONDAY MORNING WAS DAMP AND PERFECT. Mark showed up in the parking lot a few minutes before nine. He didn’t look tired or act grumpy.
“Okay, dude. Let’s do this,” he said.
“Dudebro, we’re having a hard day today. Half mile warm up.”
He wanted to chat the entire time so I allowed him to burn his puppy-dog energy. Mark liked to hear the sound of his voice so I didn’t scold him for being playful. Plus, I kind of liked his energy.
We stretched.
“Pay extra attention to your Achilles,” I said.
“Why?”
“Hard day today. We’re doing hills.”
“What is a hill workout like?”
“It means we’re doing hills,” I said. He gave me a dirty look. “Hills are hard on your Achilles, so we need to really make sure they’re warm and flexible.”
“I got that. But what is the workout?”
Okay, he wants reps.
“The workout is a half-mile run with a finish up the hill. Then a short break... then we do it again.”
“How many?”
“Five.”
“Two and a half miles? That’s not bad.”
We did the one mile jog back to the hill, which was far enough into the park that not many walkers used it, especially not when the grass was damp like in the morning. My ‘running loop’ was unpaved trails that led to the hill.
“Wow,” he said, looking up the incline. “We’re doing that?”
“Yep,” I said cheerfully. “Five times.”
“I don’t know about—”
“Right now!” I started our circuit.
Mark caught up to me easily. “Is that why we brought our water, cause we’re gonna die out here?”
“I won’t kill you,” I said kindly.
“You might not, but that hill sure as shit will.”
We sped around the half mile loop and up the incline. The hill had a nice halfway point that leveled out to a three percent grade—practically flat. Then the last third was basically straight up until the end.
Mark nearly died. I made it to the top without any problems because I’d been training on this hill since the beginning of the year. My breathing evened out in no time.
Mark was bent over, heaving. “What... the fuck... was that.” He coughed.
“Almost there. Twenty percent done.”
“Aw fuck. Fuck no, dude. Fuck no.”
“Come on. We’ll walk down to catch our breath. And we can go slow on the running part.”
“Fuck it. I’m staying up here. You do your fucking hills.”
“Hey. You’re the one who missed the last three runs. Not me. You have a lot of training to make up.”
