Let's Waste Time

Chapter Eight

Chris and I were both lying flat on our backs staring at my ceiling. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking about, but I could hear him breathing on the bed beside me. My thoughts drifted between “Holy f**k” and “I can’t feel my legs.” But like in a good way. My face was tingling, my fingers were cramped, I might have developed a twitch in my left eye, and my throat was sore.

“Can I be honest with you?” he said finally.

“That depends,” I replied. I had my hand on my chest, feeling my heartbeat as it slowed back to a normal level.

“This is the first time I’ve—acted—on the open relationship thing.” I turned to look at him.

“What?” I asked. He looked back at me. His hair was messy from where I’d had my hands in it, his cheeks were pink, and his eyes were lazy and relaxed. He shrugged a bare shoulder.

“We talked about it. We agreed to it. I just haven’t actually enacted it until now.” I turned back to the ceiling.

“s**t,” I said, running my fingers through my now dry, but messy, hair.

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Seemed to me like you knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“You could have asked me to stop. I would have.”

“I didn’t want you to stop. That’s the problem.”

“You had me in a state.”

“It’s all my fault. I ruined everything.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. It would have happened sooner or later.”

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do about it.”

“What can we do? We’ve already done it,” he pointed out.

“I mean like is this going to be a regular thing or are we just going to pretend it never happened? Can we go back to being friends or did we screw it up?”

“Well,” he started. I saw him turn to look at me again. “Was it good?” I glared at him.

“You had me shrieking like a banshee.” He snorted a laugh.

“You weren’t that loud.”

“You’re not exactly the best judge of this seeing as how it was your fault in the first place.”

“Do you want to do this again?” I looked back at him, and I really didn’t like the way he was looking at me. That should have been another clue that this wasn’t going to go as planned, but at that point in time, I thought it was just the result of having recently been laid. And nothing else. I was wrong.

“I don’t know,” I told him honestly. Then I sighed.

“I promise we can keep it unemotional. No attachment. No strings. We were okay with the friendship thing before. We can just hang out once a week like usual. But—I don’t know—maybe we can do this—as well as watch movies and eat pizza.” I rolled onto my side and leaned on my elbow.

“Is this what you really want? I didn’t even think you thought of me that way,” I said.

“I don’t know,” he told me. “I didn’t. At first. You’re not hideous. But I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend. I do love her.” He looked away, probably now feeling the guilt that came along with what we had just done. I felt it too. But it wasn’t going to change anything.

“It has to be temporary,” I suggested. “We’re obviously not going to go back to the way things were. And at some point, we probably won’t even be friends anymore. When she’s finished with school, you guys can go back to your relationship. I don’t know. If Trent ever leaves his wife—we can go our separate ways.” He looked up at me again.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” he said. I shrugged and sighed again.

“I don’t hate you. I’m actually kind of relieved. I don’t have feelings for you. I do love Trent. But it’s hard—being so far away from him. And everything else that’s going on.”

“Well, the good thing is that this can’t be considered cheating, right? He’d be a f*****g hypocrite if he got mad about it. And Heidi has already told me she’s cool with it.” I nodded.

“That’s a plus, I guess.”

“So why not try this out for a while and see how it goes? We both want the same things.” I nodded.

“Alright, but if things get too personal—I mean—aside from the s*x—then we back out immediately, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan. But I bought season one of Star Trek: Next Generation. And you said you’d watch it with me.”

“Mm, I never back out on Star Trek. Plus, I’m starving,” I added.

“And I could really go for a beer.”

“Sounds good.”

“Deal.” He reached out his hand, and I shook it like we were old pals coming to an agreement over pizza and beer, and not that we were lying in my small bed post-s*x and butt naked.

I climbed out of my bed and got up to find something to wear. Chris put his underwear and jeans back on.

“s**t, all my clothes are dirty,” I said, trying to cover myself as I searched for something to wear.

“Here,” he said. He tossed me his shirt. I caught it in my hands and looked down at it. It was the Captain America one. I looked back up at him, but he was busy trying to locate his socks. I thought the shirt sharing might be a bit too personal, but I pulled it over my head anyway and tried not to breathe in the scent of him when it came to rest just passed my butt.

He stepped out of my bedroom and went to the living room to get some pizza. I followed along with nothing but the shirt. I felt myself pulling at the edges of it, attempting to make sure it kept me covered. But he paid me no more attention as he sat down on the couch and opened the pizza box.

“f*****g starving,” he said. I sat down beside him nervously.

“Same here,” I replied. He handed me a slice, and I turned on the TV.

Then I leaned back against the couch cushions and watched him as he got up to put the first disc into the DVD player. His torso was bare, and there were red scratches on his back from when he’d flipped me over, and I’d dug my nails into his skin. I was right about the body. He had a great body. He stood up and turned back around. He sent me a smile, and I returned it. Though I was suddenly very much aware of how messy my hair must be and how silly I must look in his oversized Captain America shirt, half-naked on the couch.

He told me the reason he wanted me to watch Star Trek with him is because he was a Star Wars nerd and hadn’t crossed into Trek territory yet. I understood the language. I was a nerd of all trades. He sat down, cracked open a beer, and handed it to me.

We were quiet as we finished our pizza and beer. I tried to focus on the show, and he didn’t ask me any questions like I thought he would. I thought maybe he was as nervous as I was about what we had just done. But I could see from the corner of my eye that he was back to his regular comfortable position on my couch. I tried to do the same. I stuck my feet on the coffee table and pulled the shirt back down, hoping I wasn’t showing off everything.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked. “No strings attached?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“You have a nice ass.” I snorted.

“I have the body of a twelve-year-old boy.” He took a sip of his beer and laughed.

“I was a twelve-year-old boy once, and I did not look like that. You have wicked f*****g legs.”

“That came with a lot of strings attached.” He put his beer down and shrugged.

“There’s no emotional attachment to legs. I was just stating a fact.” I laughed again and shook my head.

“You don’t have to flatter me to get into my bed. We’ve already set the boundaries and rules. If you want to get my clothes off just make a move.”

“My moves usually start with kissing. You said I’m not allowed to do that.”

“Want me to make it easier for you?”

“Be my guest.”

I put my empty bottle on the table and stood up. This time I didn’t pull nervously at the long shirt. I sat down on his lap, and his hands immediately went to my thighs. He pushed the shirt up.

“You want the shirt on or off?” I asked as I reached for his belt buckle.

“You wearing my shirt is kind of sexy.” I put my finger on his lips.

“You’re doing it again.”

“So I can’t compliment you either?”

“Do you tell your teammates that they’re sexy when they wear your shirts?”

“Only Jim. And only after sex.” I laughed and pulled the shirt up over my head. I threw it over the back of the couch and ran my fingers down his chest.

“Do any of your teammates look like me when they take their shirts off?” He looked me over.

“No. They definitely don’t have any of those.” His eyes went lower. “Or that.” I pulled his belt out of the buckle. He looked back up at my eyes. “Are you technically naked if you’re still wearing glasses?”

“The glasses come with the girl. Take it or leave it.” He laughed.

“Fine.”

“Besides, I can’t see without the glasses.” I stood up to work his jeans back down.

“Ever thought about Lasik?”

“I have a fear of needles and sharp pointy objects near my eyes. So no.”

I climbed onto the floor and yanked his jeans all the way down. Then I climbed back up slowly, kissing his chest until I was on top of him again. My stomach clenched when I thought about what we’d done in the bedroom. I definitely wasn’t done working off the s****l frustration, and I wasn’t sure if I ever would be. So I stood back up.

“Wait here,” I said. I went to my bedroom, got another condom, and tossed it into his lap when I returned. Then I climbed back onto his lap, felt his breath hot against my skin, as he gripped me.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered against my throat.

“You’ll die happy.”

One thing about Chris is that we may not have loved each other, but we made love to each other amazingly well. I’d only ever had s*x with two other people. My first real boyfriend, and then Trent. And each time I’d had to learn their bodies before I enjoyed it. Each time it took a period where they had to learn my body. Chris was determined to learn my body on the first night. We made the agreement of mutual satisfaction, and we were going to see it through.

When we finished, for the second time, I took a moment to catch my breath before I climbed off of him. Then I picked up his shirt and handed it over.

“I have to work tomorrow,” I told him. “Mind if I call it a night?”

“I’m afraid I’ll die of exhaustion before I even reach my apartment. So I’m perfectly fine,” he said.

“Night, Chris.” I headed toward my room feeling much less nervous than before.

“Hey, Marley,” I heard him say from behind me. I turned around at the bedroom and looked at him. He had an arm leaning on the back of the couch.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we decided to do this.” I smiled and nodded.

“Okay, rule number one: We don’t talk about s*x club,” I said. He laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Rule number two: We don’t get emotionally attached. Rule number three: we don’t kiss on the lips. Rule number four: we don’t say sweet things to complement each other.” He gave me a one-handed salute.

“You got it, boss.”

“Goodnight, Chris.”

“Night.”