15 One More #3
I passed my thumb over his nose, his dark brows, his eyelids.
Ross’s eyes were pretty: chestnut-brown, with green and yellow flecks in the iris.
I wondered if anyone had told him how pretty they were.
Except for me that night I was high, of course.
He sighed as I massaged his neck and his shoulders, and my eyes started to close.
But as I drifted off, something brought me back suddenly. A noise? Was it someone at the door?
I had to be imagining things.
I closed my eyes again, but the noise returned. And now there was no doubt it was real. I tried to sit up, and Ross squeezed me, still dreaming and murmuring incomprehensible words.
“Ross,” I whispered, shaking him. “Ross, wake up.”
“Mmmm,” he mumbled.
“Ross, get up!”
“Jen, if you want to go at it again, I’m going to need a little more sleep.”
“Idiot! There’s someone at the door!”
He sighed and curled up, his cheek lying over my heart. “Whatever,” he said. “It’s probably just Sue or Will. Or the neighbor. What are they going to do, steal the salad Naya bought? Go back to touching me.”
“I’m serious. We need to get up!” Finally I convinced him, and he got up and stretched, looking unworried as he threw on a pair of cotton trousers.
I slipped on some panties and asked him to pass me a shirt, and he told me I should stay behind.
“What are you going to do?” he asked. “Stare at the thief until he dies?”
“Maybe I’ll use you as a human shield and take off running,” I said.
That time the sound came again—loud, undeniable. Ross turned serious as I said, “See?” and told me not to move.
“But…”
“Jen, stay here.”
I did for a minute, but as soon as he’d walked out, my anxiety got the better of me.
I threw on the T-shirt he’d passed me and walked out.
“Could you not listen to me for once?” he asked as he noticed me behind him.
When we reached the door, it was obvious someone was trying to open it.
I stayed in the living room while Ross threw the door open, ready to strike.
Then he shouted, “You want to let me know what the fuck you’re doing here? ”
“Well, hello to you, too,” Mike said. He stumbled in and looked at me, and I realized the state I was in, half-dressed, hair sticking out in all directions.
“I hope I’m not interrupting something,” Mike continued, and Ross grunted. “Nice to see you, Jen.”
“Yeah, always a pleasure, Mike,” I said, shaking my head.
“I asked you a question,” Ross repeated. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Mike walked into the living room and dropped his bag on the floor. “I had an argument with my girlfriend—sorry, ex-girlfriend now—and I was wondering if I could stay here a few days. I know what you’re going to say: Why should you care. But seriously, Ross, I’m your brother. Throw me a line.”
Ross was furious, and Mike’s excuses were only making it worse. If he didn’t shut up, I thought Ross might explode.
“You need to go,” Ross said, but Mike ignored him, making jokes about how he guessed he was interrupting something, and congratulations, Ross, and it was too bad Mike and I could never be a thing, and Ross got angrier and angrier and finally started shoving him out the door.
“Come on, Bro,” Mike protested. “You can’t just shove me out on the street.”
“You can’t stay here,” Ross replied. “There’s no room for you.”
“You really don’t have space for your own brother?”
“I mean, the couch is open,” I told Ross.
Mike responded, “Look, even she wants me here.”
When I saw Ross’s face, I regretted opening my mouth and rushed to add, “I never said I wanted anything.”
“Tonight,” Ross almost shouted. “You can stay tonight. And you’re leaving in the morning. I don’t care where you have to go.”
“Sure, man, sure,” Mike said, sitting down and taking off his shoes. As Ross and I headed toward the hallway, he went on. “Yo, what’s the rush? Don’t you guys want to stay and hang out for a little while? Jenna?”
“We don’t,” Ross said, “and leave Jenna out of this. Every time you come over, you start your bullshit with her. Another comment and I will throw you out on the street.”
Mike raised his hands in surrender. But you could tell he wasn’t really listening.
When we were back in Ross’s room, I apologized for saying anything.
“It’s fine,” Ross said. “It’s just…even having him one room away puts me in a bad mood. Mike is trouble. He always has been.”
He sat down on the bed, looking stressed. I felt bad for him. I curled up in his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, saying, “What does it matter? It’s just a day. Not even that. One night. He’ll leave in the morning.”
With a bitter smile, Ross replied, “It’s obvious you don’t know him. We won’t get rid of him that easily.”
“Maybe he and his girlfriend will make up?”
“Jen, when my brother says the word girlfriend , he doesn’t mean the same thing you or I do. This could be someone he’s been sleeping with and fighting with for years or someone he just ran into at a bar last night.”
Maybe he was right—but I had to do something to make him feel better. I straddled him and kissed the tip of his nose.
“Well, if we can’t get rid of him, maybe we can do something so you won’t think about the fact that he’s here,” I said.
He seemed to like that and replied, “That’s pretty persuasive.”
I kissed him on the lips and pushed him backward until we were both holding each other, our hands gliding hungrily over each other’s bodies.
And yet he didn’t seem to want to go further.
He didn’t even try to take off my clothes.
I think sometimes he just needed someone to hold him and caress him and tell him how special he was.
It sounds cheesy, but that’s just how Ross was.
And I certainly didn’t mind being the person who did it.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, he was still asleep, so I dressed in my running clothes and tiptoed out of the room.
Mike was still lying on the sofa. It entertained me to have him there, despite everything.
Maybe they didn’t get along, but they had more in common than either of them would admit.
I ran a long time, called my brother Spencer, bought a coffee, and walked back home.
In the elevator, I said hi to a neighbor who sometimes went out running at the same time I did.
When I walked back into the apartment, I heard a whistle coming from the kitchen.
I’d just assumed it would be Ross, but no, it was his brother.
“You’re active this morning,” he said, looking me up and down.
“Have you always been this big a pain in the ass?” I replied.
He started in on me with one of his corny lines about us hooking up, but I ignored him, turning my attention to Will, who was yawning as he stomped out of the hall.
When he noticed Mike, he turned to me with a curious expression. “Ask Jack,” I said.
“Jack?” Mike asked with a laugh. “We’re calling him Jack now?”
I ignored him. Will opened the fridge to take out the milk and asked him, “When are you leaving?”
“No idea. When I get bored.”
I reminded him that he had told his brother he’d be leaving that morning. And he told me he had a hunch Ross had already told me how easily he changed his mind.
Frowning, I announced I was going to take a shower and walked off, shutting the bathroom door behind me.
When I was naked, with the shower door closed, rubbing shampoo into my hair, I heard the door fling open, screamed, and covered my mouth.
When I peeked out, I saw Mike standing there peeing without a care in the world.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted. “I’m showering!”
“Relax, I’m leaving right now. Anyway, it’s not like I can see anything.”
He was right. The shower door was almost opaque. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want him in there.
“Mike, get the fuck out!”
“OK, I’m going, damn.” He zipped his fly slowly. I could feel myself turning red from embarrassment and anger. As he washed his hands, he said, “You know, you shouldn’t worry about me being here. Just keep doing what you were doing.”
“GO!”
I must have said that loud enough for Ross to hear me, because soon he was peeking through the door looking ready to kill his brother. “What in the hell are you doing?” he asked.
Before Mike could make an excuse, Ross had grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out, slamming the door. When he came back in a second later, he said, “Sorry, he’s an idiot.”
“It’s fine, but if he does it again, I’m gonna squirt body wash in his eyes.”
“Honestly,” Ross responded, “I’d pay to see that.” Then he looked at me for a moment and continued. “So…is there room for anyone else in there?”
Advantages of showering with Ross: someone to soap your back, someone to massage you while doing so, someone to make you laugh, someone to wash you slowly all over with the showerhead, and someone to put a hand over your mouth so the others wouldn’t hear what you’re doing in there.
Disadvantages of showering with Ross: making it to class thirty minutes late and getting chewed out by my professor.