Ten
Theo has a superpower: he can make time pass five times faster than normal. That’s the only logical explanation I can think of when my third alarm goes off just when I’ve gotten his jeans unbuttoned. We’re both breathing hard, eyes locked, even as my phone chimes it’s incessant noise.
“Are you sure that’s your alarm?” Theo asks as if coming out of a trance, the haziness in his eyes clearing. He shakes his head as if to regain his equilibrium. “The sound is different.”
He’s right, I belatedly notice. My alarm is set to the sound of blaring bell chimes, but my ringtone is much softer. I glance down at it, breath catching as Ben’s picture fills the screen.
“I’m so sorry.” Theo’s eyes crease in concern as I hastily back away from him. “I have to take this.”
Before he can react, I dart across the bedroom and into the bathroom. Once the door shuts behind me with a soft click, I hit answer and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” There’s a hesitancy I rarely hear in Ben’s voice. Or maybe I’m projecting. Apparently I do that a lot. He’s said only one word and I’m coiled tight, bracing for impact.
“I feel like it’s been awhile since we talked,” he continues.
“Yeah,” I say. “I didn’t want to take up too much of your time at the party and brunch. They were both great, by the way. It looked like everyone had a great time.”
“I heard you did, too.” His tone turns sarcastic, but I can’t tell if it’s meant to be teasing or cutting. “Which is sort of why I wanted to talk to you. Do you think we can meet up after work? I’ll bring a six-pack of Angry Orchards, just like old times.”
I should say no, just to keep the distance between us. But would he suspect anything weird if I declined? And what does he mean that that’s what he wants to talk about? Does he not like me seeing Theo because of their feud?
“Sure,” I say, hating myself for the answer as soon as it’s out of my mouth. I have no idea how I’ll respond if he asks me how this happened.
Well, you see, it started somewhere between wrenching him away from your fiancée and the morning after we consumed the entire bar. Now we’re dating, and sorry not sorry if you don’t like it. Never mind that “dating” is so far beyond a stretch of the imagination, it might as well be in outer space.
This is going to end in disaster.
“How’s seven o’clock?”
“Perfect,” he says. “I’ll see you then.”
When I return to the bedroom Theo turns over on his side, propping himself up with a raised elbow. His blond hair is mussed in the most adorable way, sticking up like a child’s. I’d rest his head on my lap and run my fingers through it for an entire day if I could. I kneel on the mattress, about to reach a hand to do just that when he asks, “What was that about?”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“Rushing to the bathroom just to answer a phone call. Ben’s not that interesting.” His fingers trace the line of my neck until they curl into my hair. Even though he’s only teasing, his words still bristle. I’m about to push him away when he says, “If you want to get rid of me, you can just say so.”
The thought of him leaving bristles even more.
“That’s not what I want.” I shake my head. When he breathes a sigh against my shoulder, it sounds like relief. “But you should probably go anyway. The real world awaits.”
“Fine.” He lets out a dramatic groan as he pulls himself away. “Do you have plans after work?”
Suddenly, I wish I didn’t.
“Um, Ben’s coming over.” I avoid looking directly at his face. “We’ll probably catch up for a little while. It won’t be long.”
“Oh. Cool.” His mouth turns up into that devilish grin that threatens to be my undoing. “Text me when he leaves?”
“Sure.” I laugh softly. That smile has no right turning me on this early in the day. “Bye.”
But neither one of us makes a move. We stare at each other for so long, the air grows hot. Until after a brief moment of hesitation, he bows his head to kiss me goodbye. Only, the moment our lips meet, there’s nothing chaste about it at all. I let out a groan when his tongue slides between my lips, my hands curling into his hair.
I could get used to this.
The warmth of his body is helping make all thoughts of his brother dissipate. Angela was right about that—rebounds really can work wonders.
When we pull away, his mouth spreads into a surprised grin. His eyes shut tight, as if embarrassed we almost got carried away all over again. I hide my face in the crook of his neck to disguise the laugh that burbles up from the back of my throat. His shoulders shake with a laugh of his own, one of his hands coming up to pat my head.
“I should go,” he says as he pulls away from me. “Before I get you fired for not showing up.”
“Right.” The thought does the same trick a bucket of ice water would. I quickly glance down at my phone for the time. I need to start getting ready, and fast. “I’ll walk you out.”
We find his hoodie on the living room floor. When he pulls it over his head, it tousles his blond hair even further. I reach up to pat it down, unable to resist touching his hair any longer. He lets me, lips vibrating with a soft hmm noise in approval. “I’ve got an interview in an hour.”
“Oh, good luck!” I throw my arms around him in a crushing hug. After a beat of surprise, he returns it. There’s no heat in it this time, as if we’re somehow able to cycle through unbridled lust and platonic touching seamlessly. “You got this.”
“Thanks.” He smiles down at me, almost like he still can’t believe last night happened. I can’t really either. “See you tonight.”
After work, my mom stops by to drop off a collection of homemade goods. Tortillas, jars of salsa, and freshly ripened fruits and vegetables from her garden litter my kitchen counter. As soon as I turn my back to put everything away, the sound of rushing water meets my ears. I heave a sigh, but don’t say a word. There isn’t anything my mom can’t stand more than dishes in the sink. Even if it’s not her sink.
Despite her small frame, my mother is anything but frail. It remains a wonder how she possesses so much energy to keep up with household chores, taking care of her garden, socializing with the neighbors, and multiple volunteer gigs. Even when she was working, she still found ways to keep busy. Now that she’s retired, that much hasn’t changed.
“Wow. You didn’t hold back.” I gather a handful of limes in my hands to deposit into my empty fruit bowl. At least it won’t be empty for much longer.
“I figured this should keep you stocked for a while since you said you were running low,” she says. “The tomatoes should be ripe in a day or two. Don’t let them rot—you’re not gonna want to miss out on those. I won’t be able to grow them for much longer.” Homegrown tomatoes cannot be beat. During the summers growing up, I’d eat them by themselves with a dash of salt. They truly put those watery grocery store tomatoes to shame.
“Believe me, I won’t.”
“Bueno.” She nods as she shuts off the water. Her black hair is cut short, but still long enough for thick, shiny curls to form. There isn’t a trace of gray, which means she must’ve gone to the salon recently. I follow her into the living room, where she begins folding a pink blanket thrown haphazardly on the couch. “Was Angela over last night?”
My face heats as I studiously avoid her gaze. I may be a grown woman, but my mother will never see me as anything other than her little girl. The urge to reach out and grab the blanket Theo used not too long ago from her hands is overwhelming, but I curl my fingers into loose fists to quell it.
“Mm-hmm.” I give a noncommittal nod. “And Ben’s coming over a little later to catch up.”
“Ah.” She sets the neatly folded blanket down. “How’s he been?”
“Good,” I say. “He’s engaged now, so… there’s that.” Good lord. So. There’s that. Could I sound any more monotone?
Thankfully, my mom doesn’t pick up on it. She exclaims in excitement and asks me to pass on her well wishes. I tell her I will, nodding mechanically until we’ve moved on from the subject. Unfortunately for me, she moves the conversation into dangerous territory.
“You haven’t told me about anyone new in a while. Are you still on those apps?” she asks idly, but I’m not buying her nonchalant tone. Though she’s never pressured me into settling down with the next available man now that I have an established career, I still get twitchy talking about my dating life with her. The pink blanket is neatly folded beside her, a guilty pastel reminder of this morning.
“I am, but they’re kinda useless.” I try for a shrug, but my shoulders are tense. “I’m taking a break from dating. Possibly indefinitely.”
She bursts out in a laugh that puts me on the defensive.
“Why is that funny?” I ask. “You didn’t date anyone after dad and you’re perfectly happy, right?”
“You’re too young to be giving up so soon.” She shakes her head fondly, ignoring my question. It was rhetorical, anyway. I know how happy she is now, and what it took for her to get here. “The last boy you were really excited about was Ben, and that was years ago.”
I still cringe over the memory of telling her all about him when we first started going out. She was the first person I called after he asked me out, excited about my first official date. Of course, that excitement quickly ebbed when she lectured me to focus more on school and less on boys. Now I wish she’d keep that up and tell me to focus more on work and less on dating. Plus, it’s embarrassing that she knows how much I liked him back then when we didn’t work out.
“I wish you felt like you could be honest with me.” For a moment, it feels like the air in my apartment stills. I hold in a breath and stare at her, waiting for the bomb to drop. “It’s okay for relationships to fail. You can talk to me. I want to know about your life. Don’t wait until you’re engaged to tell me you’ve been seeing someone. Okay?”
I breathe a sigh of relief that she didn’t say what I thought she would, though I’m not sure I like how close to the truth she is. This isn’t the first time she’s brought up Ben as the last guy I told her about by name. Maybe she’s right and I should’ve told her about the ones who came after him, even if they all flopped right at the start. At least then, Ben wouldn’t be the only guy she knows I’ve dated.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually.” I tap a finger on my chin. “Though maybe I’ll wait until after the wedding, just to be safe.”
“Don’t be mensa!” She slaps my hand, tsking under her breath at me. A wave of nostalgia washes over me at her favorite nickname for me when I was younger. Still, mensa is loads better in my book than gorda. It took a lot for my mom to finally let go of that one, even more to convince her she was being more demeaning than affectionate. “I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” I let out a sigh. “There’s just not much to say. I haven’t been in anything close to a serious relationship in years. Ever, maybe.”
She gives me a disbelieving look at first, but when my expression doesn’t change, she looks at me as if in a new light. She stares for a beat, and then finally asks, “Why not?”
I’m not sure how to answer her. Between unrequited feelings for Ben and my ambivalence toward dating, I don’t have a good answer. But I know those are just excuses. The truth—that I’m terrified of having a relationship end the same way hers did—is too painful to admit. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, so instead, I dodge the question by glancing at the clock and proclaiming the time. She bursts up from the couch when she realizes she’s late for meeting one of her neighbors.
She leaves thirty minutes before Ben is due to show up. I spend the time to myself practicing ways to share the news in a way that conveys the excitement I should feel, just in case.
Ben’s engaged! Isn’t that swell?
Yup, he’s voluntarily shackling the ol’ ball and chain to himself. I’m just as unsurprised as you are.
I always knew Ben and Alice would make it.
Always? No. It was more of a gradual knowledge that came with each passing year. With each monumental new step forward in their relationship. If I’m being honest with myself, an engagement was inevitable. The final step forward before tying themselves together forever. They may not have always been headed to marriage, but it’s always been the final stop. It’s only now that the final stop is within sight.
Ben arrives outside my door at seven on the dot. He’s got a six-pack of Angry Orchard under one arm, which I take from him when he crosses the threshold. We settle down on the couch, and I try to think of the last time Ben came over to my place. Almost a year ago, maybe? We watched a movie on Netflix, and he gave me relationship advice after I caught a guy I was dating texting his ex. Funny how, to Ben, it was a definite red flag, but when we eventually did break up, it wasn’t because of his ex. It was because of mine. The irony wasn’t lost on me, but it’s always been lost on Ben.
“So, Alice told me she saw you yesterday,” he says. “At Havana Bar with my brother.”
“Yup. It was nice,” I say, because I’m not sure how to play this. There isn’t much about my dating life I’ve held back from him, but this feels different, and not just because of the lie Theo and I are perpetuating. There are so many levels of awkward I’m treading here: dating his brother years after dating him, their silent feud, that he’s the reason why I need this rebound in the first place. More importantly, that he can’t know how much I need this rebound to work to stay friends with him. I don’t want to lose him. He can’t see it, but this is the only way I can save our friendship in the long run.
“He’s a sweet guy,” I continue, needing to fill the stark silence between us. “He said he’s looking for coaching positions in town. And if that means he’s staying, then maybe…” I trail off, because the look in Ben’s eyes catches me off guard.
“Marcela, we’ve been friends for years so I’m just going to say it.” He reaches out for my hand, and all my feelings come rushing to the forefront. Our fingers intertwine in that way that feels like cheating, but I’ve never had the heart to tell him so. He’d probably just tell me I’m overthinking it. And maybe I am.
“My brother is not the guy for you.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Is that meant to be some sort of revelation?
“Believe me, I know. His reputation, blah, blah, blah.” I pull my hand from his to take a sip of my cider. “And that’s not really what I’m looking for with him. You have to admit, if I’m gonna have a fling with anyone, your brother is kind of perfect.”
“Sure, yeah, for any other random girl at a bar on a Monday night, but we’re talking about you,” he bursts out, frustration coloring his tone. “You don’t know him the way I do. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I figured his protective side might come out tonight, but I didn’t expect this kind of reaction from him. Even considering their feud, I never expected him to be so against me hooking up with his brother that he’d outright say so.
“I know you guys have your issues, but do you really think he’s that bad?” I ask him. “Is that what this is about?”
“No, Marcela. This isn’t about that.” He takes my hand again and squeezes it, looking into my eyes. I try not to lose myself in the hazel glow of his. “I just know how he is with women. Please don’t do this, Marcela. I’m worried about you.”
“You don’t need to be. I can take care of myself.” I get up from the couch to put some much-needed distance between us. I don’t like the way his touch makes me feel, when those feelings should be reserved for literally anyone else. When he thinks they’re reserved for Theo now, because he’s completely oblivious to the truth I’ve hid from him for years. “Whatever you’re worried about, you shouldn’t be. No one’s getting hurt here.”
He’s about to say something when his phone rings. His brows furrow when he looks down at the screen. “It’s Alice. Give me a minute.”
He walks into the kitchen to take the call, his head disappearing behind the half wall. Because I have no shame, I cross my arms over my chest and lean my head back, prime eavesdropping position. I pull out my phone and pretend to scroll down the home screen.
“No, yeah, I’m sorry, babe. I’m still at work.” My brows crease together. Why is he lying to Alice? “I’ll be home as soon as I can. Love you, too.”
I rush back to the end of the couch, a neutral expression settling on my face. When he returns, he grabs his jacket from the armrest. “Sorry, I have to go. But please.” He meets my eyes with a grave expression. “Think about what I said.”
“Okay.” I nod. It should concern me that every lie out of my mouth comes out easier than the last. “I will.”
“Good.” He walks out the door. The guilt is overwhelming and intrusive, but even more intrusive is the gratification of seeing him so on edge because I’m seeing someone else. I don’t fool myself into believing it’s actually jealousy, but my imagination can twist almost nothing into a whole relationship. He even lied to Alice about where he was.
I knew I shouldn’t have said he could come over.
This is bad. We haven’t crossed a line physically, but I’m not sure I can say that’s true when my hand still feels warm from where he touched it. The concern in his eyes made me want to fess up to the whole ruse in its entirety, assure him that I’d never do anything to hurt him. I know how much his brother affects him. If I wanted to hurt Ben in any way, test the limitations of his protectiveness that feels a bit too much like jealousy, making him think I’m dating his brother is the perfect way. But is that really what I want?
Theo. Think of Theo.
My perfect distraction. When my eyes close, I imagine looking into his. Twin storms. Glittering cerulean when he’s showing off his genuine smile. Near black when my hands travel down his body. His warm hands on my waist, locking me in place before teasing the hem of my shirt. Mouths clashing together, the taste of him still on my lips.
Then I remember what he said this morning, his mouth curled up in that wicked grin of his.
Text me when he leaves.