Saving Moxie

Drive

I woke up with a jerk at a soft knocking on my door. I wanted to yell at the person to go away and let me just have five more minutes, but I knew it was probably Jamie coming to wake me up and tell me to get moving so neither of us were late for work. At least, I assumed he was working while I was at the shop.

"What do you want, James?" I called, sitting up in the bed stretching.

"Good morning." He said slowly, pushing the door open while holding a small plate of food that I hoped was for me.

"What if I had been naked?" I exclaimed, shaking my head as he walked further into the room. He looked like a million bucks.

"Well.." his eyes burned holes into me as he looked me over. I wanted to squirm and tell him to f**k off, but I couldn't help but love the attention. "I wouldn't say you're clothed..."

He was right. I had been so angry the night before that I had ripped off my clothes and just went to bed in my bra and underwear. Not that I normally cared who saw me lounging around, but something about Jamie still made my cheeks warm and my mind wander.

I had fallen in love with the dorky boy down the street who had wild untamed curls and a missing front tooth. The man that stood before me now still had the same wild curls that my fingers itched to run through, but he had done a lot of growing up in the years I had been gone.

"What's a better way to say sorry to someone than making breakfast for them?" He smiled in an innocent way that seemed more like an apology than an action. "Breakfast is my specialty because it's the easiest meal to make."

I couldn't help but laugh at his honesty and effort to make amends.

I had learned since being back that breakfast was by far my favorite meal of the day. I loved waking up to the smell of food and for once, not worrying if I will have a grumbling stomach for the rest of the day. But my favorite part of breakfast in this house was waking up to Jamie's bed head and five o'clock shadow.

I have this dream of waking up in the morning and making breakfast together on a Sunday and doing something boring like reading the paper together. I imagine what it would be like to never have to look over my shoulder and enjoy a meal with someone without the ever lingering anxiety of needing to cut ties. What I would give to have a normal life! I would fantasize about what it would be like to lay in with Jamie and not have a care in the world. I don't know why it was always Jamie I thought of when I pictured my perfect life - I just did. I always had.

"Well, if you made bacon, you are forgiven." I mused, pulling the blanket further on to the bed to make a spot for him to sit on. He seemed to hesitate about sitting in bed with me, but after a moment he obliged to the invitation and took a seat, sprawling his legs out in front of him.

"About last night..."

"Don't." I said firmly, holding up my hand as I shoved a whole piece of bacon in my mouth. "You burnt the eggs. How did you manage that?"

"I had a lot on my mind. Are you complaining?"

"No, no. I've just never known you to burn anything. That's my job."

He watched me silently for a short while as I ate, as if to try and see if he was forgiven.

"Why are you staring at me? I can't forgive you if you don't let me eat."

He laughed at my frustrated stare and lifted to look around my room as if he had never seen it before. Maybe he hadn't. It hadn't changed much since I left when I was seventeen, but I couldn't remember him ever being in it before now. I had seen his childhood room plenty of times when I climbed into his bedroom window.

He picked up a picture I had drawn when I first started having a romantic idea of him, which admittedly turned out okay. It was a picture of him, of course, but at that age I hadn't quite gotten down his eyes or the way his hair flopped over his forehead. It was good, for a childhood drawing, but I had come a long way since that drawing.

"Is this me?" He asked absently, running his fingers over the worn page.

"I think so. It was the easiest face to remember since I saw you so much." I lied, pushing the plate of food away from myself. My stomach felt full and since I hadn't slept well the night before, the food didn't sit quite right.

"It's good." He offered, putting it back down on my dresser before shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

"It really isn't, but I'll take the compliment. You are forgiven. Thank you for breakfast."

*********************

"Hey." Jamie gave me a small smile as I opened the car door and climbed into the seat.

"I really can walk home, you know. You don't have to go out of your way to drive me home every day."

"It's not out of my way. I live there too."

I nodded, a silent understanding falling between us. I knew the ride wasn't just about wanting to be friendly - Jamie was worried about me. The darkness in his eyes told me something was bothering him, but I didn't dare to ask. We had left each other in an awkward place this morning after breakfast. Not uncomfortable by any means, just odd. I had questioned him again on his line of work when he dropped me off and apparently chauffeur was wrong as well. He did admit that he was my own personally chauffeur, but we both agreed that since I didn't pay him for the transportation that it didn't count.

The ride home began comfortable enough, quiet, but the low rumble of music from the radio was just loud enough to make out a tune, but not quite loud enough to pick out specific lyrics. The morning had been surprisingly relaxing. We had only sat together long enough for me to finish breakfast before getting up and dressed for work, but something felt different between us - more comfortable. My dream of a boring simple life seemed to be falling into place.

By the second turn of our trip, the quiet was killing me. And that's all there ever was. Silence. It was all I knew. Keep quiet. Pretend nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong.

As the car pulled into the driveway, neither of us moved. Neither of us attempted to get out. Both of our breathing seemed much more ragged than it had originally. I realized that an entire songs had played and Jamie didn't move to change the station once. Never in the time that I had known him had I heard a full song to completion. It was something that we used to joke about when we were kids, that Jamie didn't actually know how any song ended because he didn't listen to it all the way through. I said it was OCD tendencies and he argued that he just couldn't find a song he liked enough to waste three minutes of his life on. But he had wasted ten years of his life waiting on me. Sure, I knew he had probably dated since I'd been gone, but clearly none of it had planned out the way I had hoped it would for him. I thought he would move on and get married and have babies and forget all about me.

I sighed, looking at him, noticing he seemed to be at war with himself about something.

"If you need to tell me something, just do it."

It was mere seconds before I felt his soft lips on mine. I couldn't stop myself from wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss, all shreds of apprehension gone from my body. I couldn't fight this connection we had anymore. He bit down lightly on my bottom lip, his hands sliding over my lower back and pushing my chest solidly against him. A moan ripped through my body as his hands dipped lower over the curve of my ass, kneading. I gasped and pulled back slightly.

"Jamie, stop." I breathed, though my body pushed impossibly closer to him, seeking his warmth.

"I can't." He whispered against my lips.

One thing I've learned is it's better to be addicted to things than people. You get hooked on a thing and if someone takes it from you, you can find another thing to fill the void. Only people can really hurt you. Only people can push you out into the cold permanently or tell you that you aren't good enough. Jamie was the one and only person I had ever allowed myself to become addicted to. His presence had always created the greatest high that nothing could ever come close to.

In the back of my mind, I wondered how he had learned to kiss like this. I wondered if he had a line of woman waiting to be in his bed. Jamie had always been irritatingly gorgeous and charming beyond compare, so it only made sense that he had plenty of practice before I came along. In high school I had always been the party girl, the rebel. The idea made my stomach squeeze, but the little voice in my head told me this was only temporary; that in a flash, this would be all a distant memory. Maybe a new memory to slip into when dear old Pops found me.

One day you'll kiss someone and you'll realize that you don't ever want to kiss any other lips in your life. Jamie's lips were it for me.

I pushed him back then, shaking my head. I was slipping. None of this was a part of the plan. Jamie wasn't a part of the plan.

"Come to a party with me tonight." He said breathlessly, respecting the distance I demanded. I couldn't help but nod, despite how badly I wanted to say no.