Animate Me / Chapter Six / Yoga Pants

“It’s very hard to be brave when you’re only a very small animal.” ~Winnie the Pooh

“Soooo…” she says, grinning ear to ear. “How’d it go?”

I hand over her coffee and today’s cup illustration is one that only the two of us would understand. It’s two ends of a USB cord meeting for the first time. They have little cartoon faces on them with mustaches and outie plug heads. They’re both looking at each other with concerned looks and question marks floating over their heads.

Male to male connection, indeed.

“How did what go?” I ask.

“Your date with Dani. Did you kiss?”

I’m embarrassed, but I try to keep my cool. “Oh, we didn’t have a date. We just talked. There was definitely no kiss.”

“Oh.” She looks surprised. I can’t tell if I’m reading her wrong but she looks kind of pleased that she’s the only one I’ve really kissed.

I hold up the cup in front of her so she can see the drawing. Her resulting laugh lightens up the room. “You should at least do these drawings on the cup sleeve, you know. Then at least I could flatten them out and keep them.”

“Oh, you want to keep my cup art,” I tease, hardly able to contain my thrill.

She walks over to one of her built-in cabinets and pulls open the door, then does a Vanna White wave of her arm. Each of my Starbucks cups since day one are lined up like paper soldiers. “As you can see, I’m running out of room. I rinse them out and everything.” She snaps the door closed and walks back to her desk.

“You’re making me feel special.”

“Well, your custom Starbucks cups make me feel special,” she teases back, but I know she means it.

I tip my head down embarrassed, despite the fact that her words make me really happy.

I suddenly feel the energy change in the room, and I turn to see Arnauld in the doorway, leaning against the door jam with his arms folded. He speaks to Brooke like I’m not even there.

“Ready to go over the presentation?”

“Sure, but first, say hi to my friend, Nathan. He’s the animator I told you about on Joel’s team.”

“One of the beavers.” Arnauld snickers. “Hey man, thanks for fixing Brooke’s computer.” He nods at me in that manly, confident way that reeks of masculinity. He’s one of those guys who knows how good-looking he is, and expects everyone to appreciate it. What a schmuck.

“Sure, it was no big deal,” I reply quietly. This is painfully uncomfortable. “I’ll see you later, Brooke.”

“Okay, thanks Nathan.”

When I pass Arnauld, he nods his head again, but all the while he is watching Brooke with a look in his eye. It feels territorial, and I hold my breath until I’ve stepped out of her office.

Morgan gives me that damn knowing look, like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Well, don’t worry Morgan, I sure didn’t get any cookies today.

• • •

The next day Dani and I slip into a conference room for a private moment. Now that she’s had some time to mull over my request, I’m nervous she’s going to turn me down.

“Do I have to kiss you?”

Leave it to Dani to be thorough. My mind starts imagining different scenarios, and I’m not sure how to answer her.

“I don’t think so, but maybe.”

“Do I have to sleep with you?”

“God, no. The worst it would be is some type of PDA, you know public display of affection.”

“How long are we talking here? It can’t be some ambiguous time frame. We need a firm start date and end date for these shenanigans.”

“Does this mean you’re going to do it?” I ask, hopeful.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for the underdog. Besides I get a really good feeling about that Brooke, and Arnauld is an asshole. He doesn’t deserve her. You, on the other hand, are one of the good guys. You’re definitely worthy of her.”

“Oh, Dani,” I give her one of my stiff hugs. “Thanks so much.”

She looks at her watch. “Today is the twenty-fourth. You have eight weeks. On the twenty-fourth, month after next, I turn into a pumpkin, so you better be done by then. Agreed?”

I nod nervously. The clock’s running, and its quiet ticking is pounding in my ears.

At lunch time, we head over to Outer Limits, our local comic shop that’s walking distance from the studio. I’ve been so distracted by Brooke that I’m actually behind with my reading. Spiderman could have had a love tryst with the Green Lantern, and I wouldn’t have even known it.

Billie looks happy when we burst through the door because the Sketch Republic crowd means money in the cash register.

“So, you finally show up. What’s the matter Nathan, don’t you love me anymore?” Billie drapes herself over the trading card case and pouts her lips. She knows how to fluster me.

“Of course I do,” I mumble, trying to be cute, but from me it sounds awkward and insincere. It doesn’t help that Andy pushes me towards her, and the guys are chuckling. All of them have a thing for beautiful Billie, but for some reason I’m her favorite.

“You didn’t visit me last week and I missed you so.”

“Missed me, or my wallet?” I surprise myself by challenging her.

“Well… your wallet. But only just a little bit more. It’s true that your open wallet is one of the reasons I put up with you.”

Yeah, that’s Billie.

“Hey Billie, is that a new tattoo?” Joel asks stepping closer. I can’t imagine how he would notice it from several feet away considering that both her arms are entirely covered with tattoos. I didn’t think she had any space left. But she lifts and twists her arm and shows off Wonder Woman deflecting bullets with her silver cuffs.

“Wonder Woman kicks ass,” moans Andy. “That’s so hot.”

“Glad you like it,” she purrs, admiring it herself. She looks at me and winks. “Hey guys did you see that Nathan’s new issue of B-Girl in Wildsville is in?”

“Is that the one with B-Girl painting a ladder to climb out of the maze of doom?” Joel asks. “I remember Nathan working on that one.”

“That’s it,” she confirms. “Now go young warriors, and seek many treasures.”

They take off in different directions throughout the store while I linger behind. “Thanks Billie. It’s no surprise that your store sells so many copies of my books.”

“Don’t get too full of yourself, dude, I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t love it. B-Girl is the bomb. You keep it up and she’ll be my next tatt.”

“Well, I’d be very honored. I’m sure I’ll be extra inspired when I work on tonight’s pages.”

Dani brings the latest Sailor Moon manga graphic novel up to the register.

“Hey Billie,” she says, pulling out her wallet.

“Dani! Where’ve you been girl?”

“Working too much. All work and no play is making Dani a very dull girl, but did Nathan tell you? He’s taking me on a date this weekend.”

I flush like a smacked bottom.

“Really?” Billie says in an exaggerated voice that is way too loud. “I would never have pegged him as your type.”

“Me neither,” she giggles.

I’m horrified. I step close enough to whisper in her ear. “What’re you doing?” I ask nervously.

“What does it look like?” she whispers back. I can see Nick off to the side watching us.

“So where are you two going?” Billie asks playfully like this is a game. If she only knew.

“I bet somewhere romantic,” Dani teases. Just then her phone rings, and she scrunches her nose after looking at the screen. “Sorry guys, love to talk about our date but I’ve got to take this…gotta step outside.” And she moves quickly out the door.

“What the fuck is that all about?” Billie asks me, her eyes squinting suspiciously.

“Billie, please,” I half whisper. “Not now, I’ll tell you about it later.”

“You better,” she warns. “Or else.”

Billie scares me enough that I believe her. She’d make a great dominatrix.

I nervously move over to the New Release section, hoping if I buy some more stuff it will distract Billie from torturing me. I follow our group out of the store fifteen minutes later with two shopping bags, one hundred-fifty bucks less in my wallet, but my dignity still intact.

Late that night, as I put the final touches on the fifth page of the latest B-Girl story I think about the complicated mess I’ve made with Dani and Brooke, and now Billie is going to stir things up and regularly give me shit about it. I get exhausted just thinking about all the ways things could go wrong. Before I know it, I’m pulling on my hair and my pencil is frozen over the drawing. I make a few more attempts to focus before surrendering and turning off the lights. I hope that tomorrow things will look better.

• • •

The next evening Brooke and I sit at her dining room table with a sketchbook and two beers. It occurs to me that it’s amazing how comfortable I’ve become with her. “Can I ask you something?” I say.

“Of course.” She smiles softly as she watches my pencil move from one side of the paper to the other.

“I know we talked about this once before, but people are still gossiping and it bothers me. Have more people been telling you I’m buttering you up for a pitch?”

“Is this where the title goes? Or do you think it should be in the center?” Her perfect finger points to the vague shapes I have sketched out.

“Brooke? Are you avoiding my question?” I ask, the insecurity seeping into the tenor of my voice.

“Oh, buttering me up? Yeah, maybe…particularly Arnauld. But I don’t mind. It doesn’t mean you don’t genuinely like me. That’s just how business is done.”

“But this…” I wave my hand between us. “This isn’t business to me. It’s a lot more than that to me.” I immediately feel the burning across my cheeks. I sound like such a pussy. On top of that, now I want to kill Arnauld for wanting Brooke to think that about me.

“How do you know I’m not just being nice to you so that I can keep getting those fabulous soy caramel macchiatos every day?”

“Actually I thought you wanted me for my cup art.” I inwardly smile, pleased with my pussy-free rebound.

“That’s what I’m talking about; you can see right through me. Do you know today Arnauld asked me why I didn’t bring him coffee? Something about the snarky, entitled way he said it, made me want to kick his teeth in. But you…well, you overheard my ridiculous drink mentioned in an elevator, and you wanted me to have it. Now look at us. We’re besties.”

“So it is the Starbucks then.” I smile at her, but inside I ache knowing being besties is a one-way ticket to endless frustration for me. “You may have had an agenda, but you still really think about me, Brooke—not just the development chick.”

I push the pad aside and grip the edge of the table. “It’s just important to me for you to understand that I’m not going to pitch you.”

“What, now I’m not good enough for your show ideas?” she teases.

“It just wouldn’t be right. So you can beg and plead, spoil me with more of these amazing dinners…”

“It was just take-out Thai.”

“Don’t interrupt me. You can beg all you want but I’m not pitching you. Understood?”

“I guess so—if it means that much to you. But if you have some great idea, and take it to another studio and they make it, and it’s it big hit; I will hate you forever. But if you’re willing to take that risk, I guess I’ll be willing too.”

I groan and let my head fall into my hands, my floppy hair falling across my face.

“Hey you,” she says, shaking my shoulder. “Snap out of it, we have a website to design.”

We work too long but I’m not ready to leave yet, I’m on my third beer again. I guess I’m headed toward alcoholism or at the very least a beer gut, but if it means more time with Brooke, it’s worth it.

On our final work break of the evening, we are sitting on the balcony looking out at the view. Brooke seems lost in thought.

“What’re you thinking about?” I ask softly, nervous to be too nosey.

“For some strange reason I was thinking about my parents. Do you know that if they’d stayed married they would’ve been married thirty years by now?”

“They got married after you were born?”

“Yeah, my mom didn’t even want to but the families kept pushing. A lot of good it did; they always fought, and finally divorced when I was thirteen.”

I feel sad for her. As weird as my parents are, they love each other deeply. I can’t imagine what my home life would have been like if they didn’t.

“I think that’s why I’m with Arnauld. I purposely picked someone who is as adverse to commitment as I am. He doesn’t ever want to get married or tied down to just one person.”

“And you feel the same?” I boldly ask. “You couldn’t be happy with just one person if you loved them?” I hold my breath waiting for her answer.

She examines the beer bottle intently before taking a swig and looking back out at the view. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt that strongly about anyone. It’s hard for me to imagine, but I guess that with the right guy it could be possible.”

I turn and look at the view mulling over what she’s revealed. Again, the lottery odds and my willingness to gamble on her drift into my mind. She only left the lowest odds with her answer, but that doesn’t mean I won’t bet all my chips on her anyway. What choice do I have? She’s all I want.

We finally carry our beer bottles into the kitchen and I gather up my things.

“Oh,” she moans, rubbing her tummy. “All that beer and I’m stuffed, my jeans feel tight.”

“Next time we do this just wear your yoga pants, they’re stretchy,” I suggest in my most innocent voice…the sex fiend inside of me howling with delight.

“Oh, you just want to ogle my ass,” she teases.

What does she expect? Her yoga pants have become a visual cue to my sexuality. “So what if I do? Anything wrong with that? I’m a guy, you know.”

After all…now that I’ve seen Brooke in yoga pants…I have seen the light.

She steps behind me, puts her hands on my shoulders and starts massaging as she pushes me to the front door. “Speaking of which, when is your date with lucky Miss Dani?”

“Saturday,” I lie. I haven’t even set the faux date up yet.

“Where are you taking her?” Brooke’s hands work harder digging into the knots under my shoulder blades.

“I don’t know yet, do you have any suggestions?”

“Let me think about it when I’m not beer buzzed.”

“Okay, I’ll ask again tomorrow when I bring you your coffee.”

As much as I hate to end the massage, I turn around to hug her goodbye. “Thanks. I had fun tonight.”

“Working on my website was fun?”

“Well, yeah, you’re always fun.”

She pushes my hair out of my eyes in a gentle way and smiles warmly.

As much as I know I shouldn’t say anything, being this close to her does something to me.

“Hey, would you mind if I practiced with you one more time? You know, to get ready for my date with Dani.”

“You want me to kiss you?” she asks, not sounding against the idea.

“I thought maybe this time I could try to kiss you. You know, learn to be more assertive.”

“Are you going all alpha-male on me?”

“Well, I thought I would try. But if you don’t want me to…”

“No, I’m committed to the cause here. We are sacrificing for the greater good. Go ahead and pretend I’m Dani. Pull me in your arms and kiss me, you fool.”

“Okay,” I bite my lip and try to figure out which angle I should work from. “Are you ready?”

“Don’t ask that. It’s not sexy to ask a woman if she’s ready. Just give her the look and if she gives the look back, go for it.”

I repeat that advice twice in my head so I won’t forget it. “Okay, the look.” I narrow my eyes at her.

She giggles. “You look pissed. Why don’t you take your glasses off?”

I pull my glasses off and carefully fold them, slipping them in my pocket.

“Wow, your eyes are amazing!” she exclaims. “We’re going to take you contact lens shopping soon.”

She loves my eyes. I’ll put up with sticking painful plastic discs in my eyes just to hear her swoon like that again.

This time I just look at her without trying to be cool or suave and I can feel the difference. I’m looking at her with my heart not just my eyes, and I think she sees it too.

Her eyes say yes back. She settles against the wall right next to the door and waits.

I lean down and move forward, leading with my lips as if they’re a missile slowly heading towards a target. When they land I remember how soft and warm she felt last time we kissed, and I relax into her and let my instincts take over.

She’s tentative, seemingly not wanting to take over, but lets me give my best effort. If I were being graded, I probably would’ve gotten a C plus, not stellar, but a far cry from my previous total failure.

When we part she looks up at me and smiles encouragingly. “Once, more,” she instructs, “but this time we’ll get your hands involved.”

She takes one of my hands and perches it on her shoulder, the other on her hip. “Okay, that’s good,” she affirms.

Wow. What a difference; I’m stunned. Maybe it’s just because the kiss warmed me up, but it feels like there are sparks firing from her body right into mine. It’s a super-hero force field. Surely if we harness this, we could save the world.

Deep breath, I look in her eyes…they are sparkling and saying, oh yes, kiss me. I note the green light, and go.

This times when our lips touch the melting begins immediately. I don’t even think about it, the hand on her shoulder slides to her back and pulls her into my arms. The other hand winds across her hip to her lower back, just above her bottom. I press her even closer as our lips move together. When I feel her hand twist in my hair my tongue gets involved…very involved, and so does hers.

I’m kissing Brooke, and it’s so hot. This has to be at least a B plus. Hot damn.

I only pull apart when I worry that if I don’t pull my hips away I won’t be able to hide my growing secret. He’s that happy, the guy in my pants, and I’m not ready for Brooke to meet him yet.

I open my eyes to see that Brooke’s are still closed, and her lips flushed and swollen.

“Wow,” I whisper and she smiles lazily.

“Yeah, wow. You’re a fast learner.”

“Well, I have a great teacher.” I grin, trying to keep her attention focused above, so she doesn’t see what’s happening to my body below.

“Keep kissing like that, and no girl will be able to resist you.”

“Okay.” I nod my head. I desperately want to forget that in her mind this was intended for Dani, and she was just trying to help me.

She pulls the door open. “Thanks again for your help with the website. Can we do this again next week?”

“Sure,” I say as I step outside. “So, see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“See you,” she says softly, smiling.

I’m almost to the gate when she calls out to me.

“Hey Nathan, when you go to Starbucks, do you buy Dani a drink too?”

I should probably lie, but I just can’t. Not about this. It’s Brooke and my special thing…just ours.

I shake my head and push my hands in my pockets.

Her smile is big and bright. If I didn’t know better I would think that she was really happy about that.

“Just wondering,” she calls out, before buzzing the gate and waving her final goodbye.

Later, about a mile from my house, I drive by my local Starbucks and smile. It’s closed, but its sign’s still lit, glowing against the dark sky. That green and white circle is the bright light in my murky afternoons, my very own Brooke-beacon of hope. In my quest for Brooke, I have come to believe in its power as we move forward, one caramel macchiato at a time.