Let's Waste Time

Chapter Fifteen

It didn’t end. Not then. Even though we said a million times that it was wrong, and we should stop, we kept going. Although, it only lasted one more week.

The next week Trent was coming to visit again. I was nervous but excited to see him. He was going to spend longer than a few hours with me so we could talk like he promised and cuddle and do all those loving couple things. He was actually planning to take me on a date, and we’d be able to spend time together like a real couple.

So I got dressed up. I pinned my hair up on the sides so that it wasn’t out of my face, although that just made me look like a child. I used my contacts so that my green eyes popped with color. I didn’t even have any zits, and my hair was actually cooperating. I put on my favorite dress and left the apartment to the cab that was waiting for me by the curb.

When I got to the restaurant, I sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. Then I waited, and I waited some more, and just a bit more. Finally, at eleven I decided he wasn’t going to show up, and my phone said there were no canceled or delayed flights. So I fought back tears and left the building. It was Friday night and instead of going out with my three nerd friends I was going to crawl into bed and cry a bit more. I didn’t know what to do with my mess of a life. So I dragged myself up the steps to the door and kept my head down. I kept my eyes on my feet and fought the urge to cry. I’d save that for when I was safely locked up in my room.

But then Chris’s door opened, and he popped his head out. Our apartments were old so that we could hear everything. I heard it when the floors in his apartment creaked. I heard the toilet flush. He heard when I got home.

“Marley?” he said. I looked up at where he was staring out at me.

“Hey,” I said, hurrying to wipe my eyes to be sure there weren’t any visible tears. He looked me up and down.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without the glasses.” I smiled halfheartedly because I knew this was his attempt at a joke. He’d seen me without my glasses. Though maybe he just never paid much attention.

“Contacts. I was supposed to have a date.”

“Supposed to?”

“Didn’t show.” I shrugged, and he nodded to himself. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips were parted as if he was in deep thought.

“That sucks,” he said. I nodded.

“Yeah, would you like to come over?”

“Sure. Why don’t you come to my place, though? I need to put the dishes away and take a shower.”

“Yeah, okay. I can do that.” I followed him into his apartment and watched as he put the last of his dishes in the cupboard. Then he turned around to where I was standing, clutching my elbows to myself.

“So um—want to join me or do you just want to wait?” he asked.

“I’ll join you.”

“Cool.”

I followed him into the bathroom and watched him turn the shower on. We were being somewhat awkward with each other, and I didn’t like it. I was pretty sure he knew what I was doing. I kicked my shoes off, and we undressed ourselves. Then he climbed into the shower, and I followed after him.

Since I was the only one who didn’t need to shower, I did most of the work. But we went from awkward to sexy very quickly. And after a minute of us slipping past each other in the small space and getting soapy, we abandoned the idea of bathing entirely. A few minutes later he dumped me onto his bed, but I was still angry and hurt. So I rolled him onto his back, gripped the headboard, and took all my anger out on him.

I don’t think he minded, at least maybe not at first. But at one point I just happened to glance down at where he was leaning against the headboard, with his neck bent uncomfortably. He was staring up at me with an expression I’d only ever seen once before. It was a look between mild curiosity, confusion, and maybe even fear. It was the same way he’d been looking at me that day we had breakfast together. I’d brushed it off as his attempt to make me feel important.

To be honest, I found it odd that he was even looking at me at all. We never looked at each other during s*x. Ever. It seemed oddly intimate and intrusive. It was too personal. And I didn’t know what to make of the expression now because he couldn’t have known that I would look back. I felt like I’d been caught in the act. Like he was calling me out. He knew exactly what I was doing. That I was using him to get back at Trent. That I was using him to get rid of my anger at Trent.

I decided to ignore him. I didn’t like the invasion of privacy. I didn’t like the way it felt like he was seeing into my mind and sensing all that anger and pain behind the action I was taking on him. So I looked up at the window and ignored him. But a moment later his hands moved from my hips, and he cupped my face, forcing me to look back down at him. I paused as he studied my face.

“s**t,” he said like he’d just done something wrong. “You have green eyes.”

“I know,” I replied.

“I couldn’t tell because they’re always hidden behind your glasses. I always thought they were blue.”

“I don’t usually wear my contacts.”

He kept giving me that confusing expression. I didn’t know what to make of it. Should I go back to what I was doing? Or should I say something? He’d seen me without my glasses before, but that was only during s*x and, like I said, we never looked at each other. I guess I never paid much attention to his eyes either. I always figured they were just a boring shade of blue. But in the light from the streetlamp in the alley behind our apartment, his eyes lit up vibrant and bright.

“Your eyes are blue,” I observed. He nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied. And then I felt the change again. We were looking into each other’s eyes and noticing unique features. It was way too personal. We were on dangerous grounds again.

I didn’t know what to do. I thought about going back to what I’d been doing before, but now that action didn’t fit the mood. It was too rough. The anger and pain had subsided, and now all I felt was confusion and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But he decided to take control of the situation. He sat up, bringing his face closer to mine and staring deeply into my eyes. Then he gently moved me onto my back. Resting my head on the pillows so that I was the one looking up into the way the light made his eyes shine like a sunny day with a bright blue sky.

It wasn’t the same as it usually was. Normally when we did it in that position I had my legs sticking up or he’d throw one of them over his shoulder. It would be fast and straight to the point. We only did it for the convenience of the position and the mutual goal. But already this was different. My legs were still wrapped tightly around him, and instead of hovering over me he had his arms around my body. His head was closer to my shoulder, and he wasn’t rushing it. He wasn’t doing it to get to the point. He was taking it slow.

I wasn’t sure if I liked it that way. Not that it was bad. No, it was awesome. He was great. It just felt personal again. This is the way lovers had s*x. Not the kind of lovers we were. This was for the kind of lovers who cared about each other. People who wake up in each other’s arms in the morning and laugh and kiss and do all those couple things I was so desperate for.

But I didn’t stop him. I didn’t even try. I shut my eyes and arched my back, exposing my throat to him. He pressed his lips against it, gently, and I could feel his heavy breaths against my skin.