Pandemic love, p.11
Pandemic Love, page 11
Mike chooses the right time to interject. ‘Ahh, yes. D… here has agreed to be my puppet in this little training experiment but I promise she will not get hurt.’
Mum interrupts before my father can continue. ‘I’m sure she is in very capable hands. Doctor’s hands, nonetheless. We have no reason to be concerned.’ I see Mum proceed to elbow Dad in his ribs ever so subtly, most likely meaning that she thinks highly of Dr Mike’s first impression. That and the fact that my father should stop picking on me in front of him.
I blush with humiliation, covering my face with my hand, wishing for this moment to be over. Mum and Dad exchange looks before Dad continues. ‘Ah. Okay, well, I guess there’s no reason for us to hang about. We might find ourselves in quarantine too.’
I remove my hand from my face, now opening my eyes wide to such a statement. ‘Oh, Dad! How ridiculous! You guys will be alright. You’ve kept your distance.’
‘Oh. And are you two keeping yours?’ asks Mum, slight amusement etched in her tone of voice.
I grit my teeth as I reply. ‘Yes, Mum. Of course. We don’t want to infect each other.’
Mike nods in agreement. ‘Yes. That’s right, ma’am. I have not been any closer than 1.5 metres to your daughter without wearing a mask.’
Well, I guess that’s true. My dad nods his head at Mike, no doubt applauding his vigilance with obeying the rules.
‘Okay then, son. Thank you. Keep at it. Let us know if you need anything further but this should get you through the first week.’ He turns to look at my mother, the love and devotion evident in their brief exchange even after nearly thirty years of marriage.
I wish to have that kind of love in my life one day. I look over at them one last time, trying to imprint their faces on my brain. I send them a quarantine air kiss and wave them goodbye as they turn to leave.
I stand there, leaning against the door frame, watching them get into their car. I give them one more wave before they drive off, trying my best to savour every second of their short visit.
As I do, Mike starts to pick up the grocery bags, taking them inside. Once my parents are well and truly gone, I help Mike with the rest of the bags, carrying them into the kitchen.
‘They seem nice,’ Mike says open-endedly. He is standing casually with his back against the kitchen benchtop, his hands holding onto its edge. He doesn’t elaborate further on his assessment, giving me room to interject if I so wish.
I think he can tell that I’m not myself.
I slouch my shoulders, hugging myself closely. I haven’t known what to say since they left. I look over at Mike, my eyes welling up, and I blink slowly, letting one small tear escape down my cheek.
‘Oh, Dana.’ He walks towards me and stills, trying to give me some space. ‘They will be back, and you and I, we will be okay.’
‘How do you know that?’ I say back to him, a few more tears flowing now.
Mike moves closer to me and I startle for a second before realising that we are both still wearing masks.
‘Can I give you a hug?’ he says sincerely.
I look up at him, closing my eyes and nodding my head. ‘Yes, please.’
He comes towards me, enveloping me in a hug. The biggest, warmest hug that I can ever remember. This is the closest we have ever gotten and the closest I have gotten to anyone in the longest time, and I am enjoying every second of it. I think Mike is enjoying it too as his breathing softens and elongates. We stand there, in the kitchen, hugging for a good three minutes or so, my neck and ear against his chest, breathing in his woody male scent. His head drops onto mine, his breathing remaining steady, and we slowly sway together, side to side, just a little. I finally take a deep calming breath and let go of Mike, looking up into his eyes.
‘Thank you. I really needed that.’
‘You’re welcome, Dana. I think I did too.’
With that we step back, dividing again, removing our masks and returning to our socially distanced acquaintance.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Quarantine – Day 3
Mike
Torture. Absolute torture. I thought I’d be able to last two weeks in quarantine here, with Dana, easy enough. I’ve lived with girls before. I have a mother. I have sisters. I have had girlfriends. I even have a girl roommate. Then why is this living arrangement becoming so goddamn difficult?
Usually, I can push away any desire or urges that surface and seek the appropriate method to fulfil my needs elsewhere, so to speak, but right now I feel like I am in the third day of a two-week torture sentence. Dana is so desirable and she’s not even trying to be. God, other girls would parade around in skimpy outfits, showing off their legs, breasts or more to grab a guy’s attention, but not Dana. She isn’t even trying to flirt with me or tempt me in any way like that. Well, at least not on purpose.
When we started our exercise training yesterday, I had a very hard time pulling my eyes away from her ass. Usually, she just wears jeans or trackpants around the house, so I was none the wiser until she came jogging downstairs in her tights and slim-fit t-shirt combo. My complete lack of full sentences and increased number of awkward movements around her was particularly disastrous, but at least I could distract myself by leading the training session. It was oddly satisfying being her personal trainer. Showing and helping her with the exercises I had planned and watching her achieve them. Massive adrenalin hit, for us both.
What I am currently struggling with, though, is the fact that she is not wearing a bra. She has her routine of showering after training and don’t get me wrong, I do too. We both shower at the same time, but in different bathrooms, and lord, how I wish that we could just be in one shower, together. For the sake of saving water, of course.
Well, since our respective showers today, we have come to sit on the couch to enjoy a little bit of downtime. I agreed to watch whatever show she wanted to put on because really, there is no way I can concentrate on the television with her sitting at the other end of the couch without a bra on. Her damp hair is trailing behind her and the outline of her nipples are showing through her white t-shirt. It wouldn’t take much for me to make my way over there, lift the thin fabric of her shirt and pull one of her nipples into my mouth. Tasting her would drive me insane and at the same time encourage a point so sharp, she would be able to cut glass.
If only I could touch her.
She wouldn’t have a clue what she was in for.
I have mostly gathered from our few conversations, that the guys she’s been with have been absolute jerks, with their own needs being met and hers left wanting.
So here I sit.
On this old, yet comfy couch, gazing from the TV to Dana and her delicate nipples, and back again. I must admit that I have become good at maintaining my composure at least. Hell, I’ve been doing it since we first met. That day in the emergency department when I called her name and had her innocent eyes meet mine, I was intrigued. More so, by the fact that she had been walking around unaided on a fractured ankle and not complained, the fact she volunteered to switch jobs on behalf of a friend at the drop of a hat and the fact that the daisy tattoo on her foot reminded me of a loved one.
She hasn’t disclosed much to me yet about her life and she is getting increasingly proficient at evading my eye contact. Especially since my first night here. She hasn’t mentioned what changed for her; maybe she just isn’t used to living with someone. I get that. From living alone to living with someone you barely know can be challenging, but she’s strong-willed. She’ll let me know what’s going on with her in due time. I hope.
I’m now thinking about her face, pure and often flushed during our encounters. Her silky skin so smooth and inviting that I was thrown for a loop when I helped glue her head wound that first night. I wanted so desperately to reach out and trace a light touch across her shoulder and bare back, and maybe even to graze my lips on her neck. Anything to feel the warmth of her skin under mine.
The long hug we got to share after her parents left the other day was exquisite and I purposely lingered there, holding her tightly, with my head on hers, smelling her sweet vanilla scent. I wish I could wake up every day with her next to me or better yet, us both intertwined so fiercely that we can’t even stand to be apart.
I look over at her now, wondering what I’m supposed to do.
Staying 1.5m apart is what I have to do, so maybe I should just focus on that. Following the rules. But inside, in my heart of hearts, I know that I’m a rule breaker and on this particular occasion, Dana is the reward.
She must be able to feel my gaze upon her as she turns in time to see me looking at her, a redness instantly infiltrating her cheeks. Before I turn my head away, trying to maintain my composure again, I notice that her mouth parts slightly in surprise, her lips rosy pink and supple.
Her responsiveness to me is like a drug, enthralling and addictive.
I continue to face forward, pretending to watch the show that’s on, but my mind soon wanders back to Dana and her lips.
I wonder what they would taste like.
Vanilla like her scent or strawberry like their colour?
Would my kisses even be welcome?
I shake my head at the bitter irony.
What’s the point?
I cannot touch her.
Lord, what dreaded hell am I in?
***
Dana
I think I just caught Mike looking at me. I thought we were watching this movie, which to be honest, seems like more effort than it’s worth. I usually choose movies I’ve already watched a hundred times, so that I know what happens and how it ends, just in case I get distracted by something else going on.
Like right now.
I am distracted by Mike’s intensity. The intensity of his stare and the mix of his masculinity and woody scent. It’s like he’s already been bolted up for too long inside and needs to be released into the wild. He keeps bouncing his leg whilst he’s watching the show, like he’s nervous or on edge about something. I’m not sure if I should be concerned; it hasn’t even been three days in confinement yet. I hope he will be able to make the full fourteen.
Maybe I should ask him if there’s something wrong?
I am the kind of person that is used to being indoors and used to spending a lot of time on my own. Don’t get me wrong, I love my own time – it would just be nice to have made more friends over the years. I have my family and my work friends, of course, like Milly, but she is super busy with a husband and kids, so her time is never her own. That’s why we mostly catch up at work. But who knows how long it’s going to be before I make it back to work in pathology?
This virus could last much longer than the head honchos on the news are saying. They currently expect it to run its course over the next few months but what’s stopping that from blowing out into a year or two? No one really knows for sure. And now there’s talk of developing a vaccine? That could take a while, having to run trials etc.
Well, as long as we all do our part by self-isolating and quarantining when required, we will all be better off in the long run. I hope.
I look at my watch; it’s almost lunchtime. I’m starting to get hungry. Really hungry. These training sessions have seemed to increase my appetite, which is fine, except it means I’ll burn through my sugars quicker than usual. I decide to get up and go check my sugar level discreetly, thinking of an excuse to leave.
‘Hey, Mike, I’m just going to go grab something to eat. You want anything?’ He looks over at me.
‘Actually, yes. I could do with a sandwich or something, but I’ll come and help you.’ He jumps off the lounge, reaching for the remote to pause the show.
I open my eyes wide. ‘Oh no! It’s fine. I can get it for you. You just sit back down there!’ I say, pointing back towards the lounge.
‘Hah, no, Dana. It’s okay. I am happy to help. Plus, I can get the sandwich press down from the top shelf. I just don’t think you can reach it on your own.’
I look at him incredulously, hands on hips. ‘Excuse me. I have a step ladder!’
He chuckles. ‘Yeah, I know, and you are very capable. But I’m here, so… use me.’
He’s gesturing to himself, pointing, like I had forgotten that he was here, his eyes warming with an emotion I can’t quite decipher. Oh, how I wish I could use him. I could easily think of many ways and varying positions that I could use him right now.
My heart flutters and I feel a blush rising into my cheeks, so much so that I have to look away from him. I swear, every time. Every time he insinuates anything even remotely sexual, I blush. That’s got to be some type of disease or illness – or more aptly, frustration.
We make our sandwiches in companionable silence and decide to sit outside in the courtyard together. I curse under my breath as I fall in behind Mike at never getting the chance to check my sugars. I decide to be somewhat optimistic and assume that they are holding high enough for now.
The sun is shining so there is a mild heat in the air as we make our way outside. Out of habit, I look up to the sky and take a deep breath of fresh air. I notice the circling of greying clouds in the distance, indicating that we might just get an afternoon shower, appropriate being April.
Mike has already seated himself at one end of the bench, so I mimic him and sit at the other. I’m starving and am intending on inhaling this ham and salad sandwich as fast as I can, unladylike as it may be.
‘Woah, Dana! You must be hungry!’
I look up at Mike with a piece of crust hanging out of my mouth and sheepishly attempt to push it back in with the palm of my hand.
‘I don’t think you could’ve eaten that fast enough!’
I look down at his plate to see that he has only just started on the second half of his first toastie. He decided that one wasn’t enough and that three was probably too many, so he went for the in-between.
I finish with a very large gulp, darting my tongue out to lick the side of my mouth, collecting the last crumbs. ‘It was so good. I just… couldn’t help myself.’
I look up at Mike through my lashes, a small blush settling on my cheeks. His eyes darken in response into a broody, steamy kind of expression and I realise that my statement could have been incidentally construed as flirtation, so I rephrase.
‘I mean… I was very hungry and it was delicious, with the ham, and the beetroot and the to… ma… to…W-why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Like what?’ he says back abruptly and I gulp loudly, suddenly feeling on edge.
‘Like you could eat me alive,’ I say meekly.
‘Dana. Don’t. Okay,’ he says, now finally pulling his gaze from my face but I’m not willing to give up that easily.
‘Don’t what? What did I do?’ My voice now rises higher than I had ever anticipated it would need to.
‘Just don’t, Dana. I don’t want to get into it.’
That’s certainly not an answer.
‘Get into what?’ I say louder, feeling really confused now.
‘Jesus, Dana! Just. Drop. It!’ he practically yells towards me.
With that, he pushes his chair back, gets up and takes his plate of sandwiches back into the house. I’m left sitting on my own, absolutely flabbergasted by the unexpected turn of events.
What the hell just happened?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
QUARANTINE – DAY 5
Dana
It’s awkward. I mean, really awkward. There has been no humour or light banter between us like there used to be, despite me trying. He is giving me nothing. He’s acting like we aren’t even friends anymore. Maybe we never were. I contemplate talking to him about it, point blank, and be like, ‘Mike, what the hell is going on?’ But every time I see him, fear takes over and I lose the courage, avoiding eye contact again. It was like a random switch flipped the other day and I just want to undo it. I miss our cheeky conversation and innocent flirting. The next ten days are going to be absolute misery at this rate.
Mike will at least look at and talk to me during our training sessions, but then most of the day he finds other things to do, like watching movies on his laptop in his room, reading books from my collection on the bench seat in the living room, and doing sit-ups and push-ups on the carpet in front of the lounge. Anything to avoid sharing space with me. He is doing so well at maintaining that 1.5 metre distance, that it has become more like five metres or more. But I’m still so confused. I’m not sure what exactly happened the other day but obviously, I pushed a boundary.
I’ve been contemplating getting a second opinion of my current situation – sorry, our current situation – and have decided that it could be helpful to get a non-biased opinion. I suddenly think of Milly. She is married and does have years of experience understanding the male perspective; maybe she can shed some light on my woes. I close my bedroom door for privacy and hop up onto the comforter, readying myself.
The phone rings and then clicks over to her face. Milly. ‘Hi, Dana!’
‘Oh! Hi, Milly. How are you?’ I suddenly realise how much I have missed her these past weeks.
‘I’m good, hun! Just trying to manage soccer training with my oldest via this special soccer app I had to download. She is super full on right now, with so much energy. I do not know where she gets it from!’
I laugh. ‘Oh, okay. Well, I’m so sorry to interrupt!’
‘No! Don’t be silly. I have a few minutes. What’s up?’ I can see that she is outside, moving into the shade under a nearby tree, no doubt finding a quiet place to hear me better.
‘Well, I’m kind of in a pickle.’ I take a deep breath before continuing. ‘This guy Mike is staying with me at the moment and we are in quarantine.’
