10 Not Bad #4
“I don’t know. I didn’t invite her. Why?”
“No reason.”
“I’m going to remind you for the fiftieth time, you’re not a good liar,” he said. I guess getting Monty off my back had convinced me otherwise. Oh well.
“I don’t want to talk bad about your friend,” I replied.
“She’s Naya’s friend, not mine. And I’d have to be stupid not to notice that you don’t like her, Jen.”
“She doesn’t like me either.”
“Why should you care?”
“Ross, this is the thing. The other day at the party, when you said she didn’t like you, that she was just obsessed with getting what she wanted… I think you were wrong. I think she really does like you. A lot.”
He didn’t look happy about it. He didn’t look bothered.
He just blinked and said, “I really don’t care what she feels.
” And to change the subject, I asked him what I should wear to the exhibition.
I didn’t know how people dressed at these things, and I didn’t want to look out of place.
He didn’t help much. He kept saying I’d look good in whatever I wore, and he added that I’d look even better if I wore nothing.
It was pointless trying to get a straight answer from him, so I grabbed my laptop and went looking for another movie while he wrapped an arm around me and tickled my ribs softly.
He asked if he could pick, and I said, “Sorry, my laptop.”
“Yeah, but it’s my bed and my room. And my apartment.” He smiled innocently, and I tried to resist, replying, “You told me I should feel at home here.”
“Maybe I lied,” he said, pulling my laptop out of my hands. I felt cold when he pulled his arm away and immediately started yearning for him to put it back.
I would never feel anything like that for Monty. I knew that just then. But I didn’t pursue the thought much further. There was a conclusion there I needed to draw, and I was scared of it. And scared of the consequences of doing so.
Ross read off a list of titles, telling me which ones he was interested in. In the meantime, I took out my contact lenses. I could barely see the screen now. I yawned. I knew I’d fall asleep any second.
“Horror?” Ross asked. “Nah, better not. You were traumatized after the first one. Not comedy, though. I’m not in the mood to cringe at someone else’s dumb jokes.
I don’t want to watch a war flick, either.
They’re depressing. I want to be happy, not sit here and cry about what happens to Private Ryan… ”
I leaned my head on his shoulders and said, “What about a rom-com?”
“Screw that, they all suck,” he said.
“That’s impossible. There’s no way every single romantic movie sucks.”
“OK, cool, tell me a good one, then.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I’ve never seen one.”
“I keep forgetting that you’ve come here from another galaxy.”
Despite his remarks, he did click on “Romantic.” I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. It felt so natural that it surprised me. So I curled up closer and rubbed my nose against his neck. That felt natural, too. He smelled good. He always did.
“If you keep that up, I’m afraid you’re going to have to miss your movie,” he warned me.
“I like it, though.”
“Me too. That’s the problem.”
I smiled and pointed at the screen. “What about this one?” I asked.
“ Pretty Woman ? I’ve seen it a million times. Everyone’s seen it a million times except you. It’s probably the most famous romantic comedy there is.”
“Come on, Ross.”
“No!”
“But I want to.…”
He shook his head and said, “I can tell arguing with you is pointless. Why should I think I can choose the entertainment in my own house?”
I kissed his cheek again as he clicked Play.
We settled into the bed and I curled up close to him.
As we watched, I tugged at his shirt collar.
He huffed and puffed through the first scenes, complaining about everything the characters did while I just smiled and tried to understand what they were saying.
Halfway through, I told him, “Ross, stop being a spoilsport. It could be so much worse.”
“I hate it. It’s unrealistic.”
“You’re just not romantic. Who are you to say there isn’t a Julia Roberts out there right now who’s just bumped into the millionaire who’s going to make her whole life better?”
“Julia Roberts shouldn’t need a millionaire to make her life better.”
Out of nowhere, a question struck me, and I felt comfortable enough to pause the movie and ask him, “How many girlfriends have you had?”
“Well, that came out of nowhere,” he responded. “Two. May I ask why you want to know?”
“Curiosity,” I said.
“Yeah, right.”
I tried to push him, and he caught my hand, and I leaned in to kiss him.
It felt good. And it felt better when he reached under my sweatshirt to caress my back and ran his other hand through my hair.
It wasn’t like the first time. It wasn’t like the kiss he’d given me the other morning in the kitchen.
It was…tender. No one had ever kissed me tenderly before.
And what do you know? It turned out I liked it.
Or at least I did when he did it.
I cupped his cheek, kissed his upper lip, kissed his lower lip, kissed the corner of his mouth, opened my own mouth and let him kiss me.
He was slow as he stroked my back with his fingers, wanting to give me pleasure.
He reached up and ran his thumb along my lip, and I began to bend down toward him again, but a knock came at the door and Lana leaned in, not bothering to wait.
I jumped back and pretended to look at my laptop, which we’d left sitting in the middle of the bed.
“Can I help you?” Ross asked angrily.
“I need a ride home,” she asked with that fake innocence that was starting to get on my nerves.
I tried not to grunt out loud as he stood. Of course, he couldn’t say no to anyone. He put on his shoes and looked over at me. It didn’t take a genius to know how pissed I was. I could tell he felt bad as he said, “I’ll be right back.”
“Whatever,” I said. “I’m going to sleep.”
Very briefly, I saw a look of horror on Lana’s face.
Just afterward, I knew why. Ross had turned around, was leaning over me, was touching my face, his lips pressed into mine, and the world stopped once again.
Pulling away slightly and looking at me close, he said, “Nah, I don’t think so.
I’m coming home, and I want you to be awake when I get here. ”
I was as shocked as Lana as he turned around and left the room.