November 4, nine years ago

 

I considered changing my clothes.  This was ridiculous.  I’d become a fucking girl.

Etta was due over in a few minutes.  Tonight she said she wanted me to help her with a project one of her professors assigned.  She said she needed my input, but I still wanted to look just right.  Shorts, sweat pants, or jeans?  I wanted to look nice for her, which is why I felt like a girl.  I mean I didn’t want to look like I was trying to impress her, and since it was a bit cool outside, I chose sweats and a long-sleeve t-shirt. 

I opted to dress for hanging out with my buddy.  Yep.  Just like any other night with a beautiful-eyed, kissable-lipped, lickable-bodied, doesn’t-know-she’s-sexy, smells-like-heavenly-Dreamsicles, can’t-stop-thinking-about-her buddy.  Because I had so many of those hanging around.

Etta and Beth moved one building over from us in August.  Chris, my roommate, and Beth were still dating.  In fact, they were pretty serious, kind of disgustingly so.  Etta decided to allow them to have the apartment to themselves periodically.  I knew the reason was because she didn’t want to watch them make out on the couch or hear them having sex.  They’d done it here enough for me to know how loud both of them could be.  So when Chris and Beth were together, Etta came over. 

Tonight was our eighth couch-time hang-out session.  Sometimes we’d study.  One time, we watched a football game.  My favorites were when we’d start out with a movie and end up talking.  A couple of those times she ended up falling asleep on my couch.  I’m not going to lie.  I’d watch her sleep.  She was so innocent and flawless when she slept.  The only bad thing was I couldn’t see her eyes.  But damn, she was beautiful.  I never touched her, even though I wanted to so badly.  I’d usually end up in my room, alone, dreaming of her.  Yes.  I had it bad.

David, as far as I knew, was still in the picture unfortunately, but he and Etta were just casually dating.  At least that’s all I think it was.  I didn’t ask for details.  And since I hadn’t spoken to him since my brother’s birthday, he wasn’t telling me anything. 

I wasn’t dating.  I was back to the occasional hook up, but I didn’t advertise those.  I had two rules:  I never, ever brought a girl home with me, and I never stayed the night.  It didn’t happen often, twice since that night with Kammie.  I tried not to think too much about the fact that those two times were right after Etta slept over. 

God, that made me sound like an asshole.  And I wasn’t one, I swear.  Both of those girls came on to me first, but I was more than willing to hook up with them to try to alleviate the ache caused by the woman who consumed my thoughts.  Yeah, that didn’t make me sound any better, did it?  And to top it off, it never worked.

When I came out of my bedroom, she was there on the couch, binder and lap top opened in front of her, pen in her hand, music playing, and a box from Buzzy’s on the coffee table.  Have I mentioned that this girl is perfect?

“What’s this?” I asked, walking around the coffee table and grabbing a slice out of the box.

“Dinner.  I figured since you are helping me with my project, I’d buy.”  She took a bite.  “It’s a preemptive thank you.”

“Thank you for your thank you.  You take the whole way to a man’s heart thing seriously, don’t you?”

“I’m not interested in your heart tonight, Nathaniel, just your brain,” she quipped. 

That kinda hurt.  I knew she was joking.  I just wish she knew that I would give my heart to her willingly, and for a lot less than pizza. 

She laughed when I stuck out my tongue, complete with half-chewed pizza on it.  Immature, I know, but she started it.  I finished my piece and grabbed another out of the box.

“So just what can my brain do for you, Miss Sullivan?”

“Okay, I’m supposed to ask you some questions then show you some images and clips, and you are to measure your responses to each.  I need you to take this seriously and give honest answers.”

“Alright.”  I crossed my eyes at her.  “I’m ready.”

“No, Nathaniel.  I’m serious.  I need you to pinky swear you will take this seriously.”  She held up her pinky.  I rolled my eyes.  “Come on, pinky swear.”

“Ugh, fine.”  I linked my pinky with hers.

“Now you have to kiss it to seal the deal,” she said with as much seriousness as I’ve ever seen her use.

“What are we, eight?” I joked. 

“Just kiss the pinkies, Dumbass.” 

Her beautiful eyes locked on mine as we both leaned in and kissed our joined little fingers.  The top of her upper lip barely grazed mine.  I moved away quickly before I could do something stupid.

“Okay.  Ask your first question.”  Please God let it distract me from kissing her.

She picked up a packet and began reading.  “Does it bother you when two people kiss passionately in public?”

What.  The.  Hell.

I stared at her mouth.  I couldn’t help it.  Her biting the end of her pen just made it worse.  Fuck.

“Nathaniel, this is the portion of the program when you answer the question.”

“Oh, sorry.  I was thinking of an answer.”  Good save.  “I would have to say yes, it does bother me in most instances to have two people making out in public.  There are certain things that should be done in private.  I’m not against all public kissing, but watching two people going at it, shoving their tongues down each other’s throats is gross.”  I smiled, impressed with myself that I could come up with such an involved answer when all I could think of was kissing her passionately.

She smiled.  “I was looking for a simple yes or no.  But thank you for elaborating.”  She looked down at the packet.  “Okay, now I’m supposed to show you two pictures and you tell me which one is more appealing.”  She opened her lap top and pulled up two pictures.  One was of a man and a woman kissing.  You could see that the tongues were engaged.  His hands were gripping her ass, pulling her close to him.  Hers were in his hair.  The second was the same couple, but the kiss was different.  No tongues.  His hands were in her hair, and her hands were on his shoulders pulling him closer. 

“You don’t have to study them so hard.  It’s supposed to be a quick choice.”

“The first one, I guess.”  I thought about it for a second.  “What class did you say this was for?”

“Human sexuality.  Now, second question…”

“Whoa, wait a minute.  Human sexuality?  What the hell, Eddie?  I’m not going to tell you sex secrets so you can write about them for this project.”  I went to the kitchen and got two beers out of the refrigerator.

She laughed.  “Relax, Nathaniel,” she yelled from the couch.  “It’s not like that.  First of all, I’m not supposed to use any names.  Secondly, the questions aren’t asking for secrets.  It’s just a survey on the differences between males’ and females’ perceptions of sensuality.  Beth participated earlier today.  There is nothing completely inappropriate.  Grow up.”

“Grow up?  What if I asked you these questions?  How comfortable would you be answering them?” I handed her a beer.

“Completely.  But I’ll make you a deal.  If anything makes you too uncomfortable, I’ll find someone else.”

“Why aren’t you asking David these questions?” I blurted, not hiding my contempt for him.

“Who, Thumper?”  She took a drink.  “He’s not a viable option anymore.  I dumped his ass.”

I almost did a spit take.  “Thumper?” 

“Yeah, forget I said that.  You don’t want to know the details.  Just know he and I are done.”

“Now I have to know.  We’re friends… Don’t friends confide in each other?” 

“Yes, but…”

“Then tell me what happened and why you call him Thumper.” 

She blushed.  “Okay, but you asked.”  She turned to face her computer.  “It’s just like it sounds.  He was fast, in every sense of the word.  He rushed through sex without any attention to detail.”  Why did I ask again?  “I thought it would get better, that maybe the first time was bad because he’d been drinking, but sadly, no.  I know guys think that sex is like pizza, even when it’s bad, it’s still good.  But for girls, that’s not true.”  She leveled her eyes at me.  “I’ve had bad pizza.”    She raised the bottle to her lips.  “And then he started talking about commitment.  Ugh.”  She took a drink.  “I hate it when guys get all clingy and needy.”

“I thought girls liked all that commitment shit.”  I took another drink.  “Are you sure you’re even a girl?”

She looked down her shirt.  “Yep, still a girl.”  She picked the packet back up.  “Now, can I ask you another question, or are you going to get all super-sensitive girly-man on me again?”

I was a little lost in three thoughts.  One, a touchdown celebration dance erupted in my head at the thought that David was out of the picture; I had to be careful not to spike my beer.  Two, she fucking had sex with that asshole, who I was currently working out a plan on how to kill him the next time I saw him.  And three, I was thinking about looking down her shirt, wondering what kind of bra she was wearing, if at all.  Luckily, the third thought distracted me from reacting to the both the first and the second. 

“Nathaniel…”  Her silky voice brought me back to reality.

“Yeah, sure.  Go for it.”

“Okay, which would you prefer:  your partner taking off her clothes for you, or would you want to take off her clothes yourself.”

I took a drink of beer.  “You mean like a strip tease?” 

“It doesn’t say.  I guess you could interpret it your own way.” 

This is friggin unbelievable.  “I really like both ideas.  It kinda depends on the situation.” 

“Shit, Nathaniel.  Just pick one.”  Irritated Etta is a cute Etta.

I smiled, loving my new idea.  I sat my beer on the table in front of me and lowered my voice to an almost whisper.  “I guess then I’d have to say that I would prefer to take off her clothes myself.  Slowly.  Like unwrapping the greatest gift in the world.  Touching and teasing her body with my fingertips.  Kissing and softly nibbling at her flesh.”  I licked my lips.  “Tasting her skin with my tongue.”  I watched her face relax slightly and her eyes darken and dilate.   I think she was holding her breath.  I leaned in a little.  “It’s much better to actively participate than it is to watch, don’t you think?”

She pulled her knees underneath her and turned to face me.  “Depends on what you’re watching,” she whispered, her breathing increasing slightly.  She closed her eyes and laid her head on the couch, exposing her neck.  It would take nothing to lean in a little, graze my lips against her smooth skin under her ear.  Fuck, she was sexy. 

She opened her eyes, focused on me and licked those sexy lips, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.  Mesmerizing.  I lifted my hand, planning to touch her face.

Her eyes dragged away from mine, and she shook her head and cleared her throat.  “That’s actually the next question.”  She refocused on the paper.  “You happen on two people having sex.  If you can do so undetected, do you watch or do you walk away?”

I looked away from her and grabbed my beer, trying to calm myself.  “Again, it depends.  If they are strangers, yes, definitely watch.  If they are people I know, no.”

She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow.  “Why not if you know them?”

“Because it would be hard for me to look at them again without that image in my head.  I really don’t like the thought of seeing my friends like that.  It’s weird.  Just like what you told me about David.”  I closed my eyes and shuddered because of the thought of her with him.  When I opened them, she stared at me curiously.  “What?  I’ll never be able to look at him the same again.  And I didn’t even have to see it.”

She narrowed her eyes and stared at me for a moment.  “I forgot to show you a couple of pictures.”  She pulled her computer onto her lap and found the pictures.  “Which one is better?”

The first was of a woman taking off her clothes.  She was pretty, smiling a sexy smirk, wearing black lace bra and unbuttoning her own pants.  The second was of a man behind the same woman.  She was dressed the same as in the first picture.  His arms were around her unbuttoning her pants.  His lips were at her ear, as if he was whispering something, and her eyes were closed and her head thrown back into his shoulder arching her back.  It was a pretty hot picture.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her watching me.  I turned to look back at her. 

“The second one.” 

She smiled, licked her lips and whispered, “I liked that one, too.”

Sensory overload.  I can’t take much more.

She broke our gaze and sat up straight.  “Now you have to listen to some audio clips, and you have to measure your responses to them on a scale of one to ten.”  She cued the clips on her computer.  “One being completely turned off,  five being normal,” she glanced at me with those beautiful eyes, “and ten being totally turned on.”

Shit, I was at about a seven right now.  I needed something to distract me. 

“I need another beer for this.”  I stood up with my back to her and walked around the couch, hiding proof of the seven.  I stopped and looked over my shoulder at her.  “You want one?”

She looked away from me quickly and readjusted her position on the couch.  “You’re really not supposed to do this under the influence alcohol.”

I smirked.  “So, tequila then?”

“Oh my God, yes,” she grunted.  “Definitely.” 

I took a few minutes in the kitchen to settle my cock down, which would have been a lot easier if she had not agreed to the tequila.  The idea of loosening her inhibitions fueled my sex-driven fantasy.  Operation get Etta drunk?  Probably not a good idea.  I’m not known having good ideas though.

“Sorry.  I had trouble finding two clean glasses,”  I lied as I poured two shots.  “And I don’t have a lime, so I didn’t bring salt.  Is that okay?”

She grabbed the glass and downed it.  “I think I’m good.”  Refocusing on the computer, she pointed to it.  “You ready?”

I downed my shot and poured two more.  “Yep.”

The first audio clip was of what sounded like people kissing, with a couple of contented moaning sighs.  Once it was through, Etta looked at me and asked, “Okay, one to ten, where are you right now?” 

I didn’t know how to answer.  Those eyes put me in a constant state of mildly turned on.  Plus, I could smell her, which made it not so mild.  Therefore, I had to recalibrate my turned-on meter just for sitting next to her.  Difficult to say the least. 

“It really didn’t do much for me.  I’d say about a five, five and a half.”

She wrote down my answer.  “Okay, the next one.”

The next clip was awful.  It sounded like a girl getting the shit smacked out of her and her whimpering cries. 

“Stop it.”  I reached over her push the stop button on the computer.  “That’s awful.  I’m at a one there.”  I downed my second shot.  “Who would be turned on by that?”

She smirked before she drank her second shot.  “Some people are into some kinky shit, Nathaniel.”

“Not me.  Abuse is never kinky.”  I poured us two more.  “Please, play the next one.  Get that out of my head.”

I noticed her hesitate before she pushed play.  In fact, she hovered over the play button with the mouse.

“What’s wrong?”  I asked, drinking my third shot.  I was starting to feel the tequila a little, so I told myself I should slow down. 

“Nothing.”  She seemed, I don’t know, nervous maybe.  She took her next shot before pushing play.  Then I understood why.  Full on, surround-sound stereo of moaning, heavy breathing, dirty talking, and obviously good sex.  Amazing sound quality aside, holy shit.  If I was honest, it was pretty hot, and based on the one to ten scale, I was at an eight.  The other clips didn’t last long, but this one?  It felt like ten minutes. 

I turned to watch her.  Big mistake.  She was still focused on her computer, but her breathing was erratic, increased, chest heaving.  Face flushed, she was pulling at the neckline of her shirt and biting her bottom lip.  That sent me to a nine.  I guess she felt me staring at her, because she turned to look at me.  Etta’s eyes any other time send me into orbit.  Her eyes when they are obviously turned on?  Full on supernova.  I was like Spinal Tap’s amp… I went to eleven.

I couldn’t help myself.  I reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, trailing my fingertips down her jawline.  She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch.  I had to kiss her, but I feared her reaction.  What do I do here?  If I kiss her and she shuts me down, I’ll die.  If I don’t try, I’ll regret it forever. 

Fuck it.  I was going for it. 

I pulled her chin gently toward me.  She offered no resistance, so I leaned in slowly and inhaled.  Heavenly.  Our lips were millimeters apart, and I felt her breath on my lips.  Just milliseconds from finally tasting her…

“Hey guys,” Beth’s excited voice came from the doorway as she and Chris burst in.  Etta jumped up, dumping her papers on the floor.  “Oh my God, are we interrupting something?”

“Just doing that project, Beth,” Etta said, a hint of frustration in her tone.  “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.”  She blushed.  “We can come back.”  Beth was so cute and tiny.  She had a personality to match, very bubbly girl next door. 

“No!” Etta growled.  “There’s no need.  We were done.”

“I guess you heard the sex noises, huh?” Beth asked me.  “I thought they were a little on the lame side.  No… creativity.”

After hearing Beth’s idea of sex noises, I understood why she found the clip lame.  Beth was definitely creative, but hearing her wasn’t a turn on to me.  How could someone so seemingly unassuming be so boisterous and a little kinky?  She’s proof that you can’t judge a book by its cover.  I fully understood why Etta felt the need to escape. 

“Not everyone likes the same thing,” Etta diplomatically answered. 

“No,” Beth looked back and forth between Etta and me.  Finally, she shrugged.  “I guess they don’t.”  She sat down on Chris’s lap, who was sitting on the chair next to the couch.  “Chris and I wanted to talk to you both.”  She folded her hands across her lap.  “We hate that we always have to kick you out of the apartment whenever we want to be alone together.  I know how important school is to you and your studying, and it’s not fair that we always ask you to leave.  Plus, the back and forth, sleeping at our place or sleeping here is getting old.”

Chris spoke up.  “So tonight, we’ve been talking about it, and we think we have a solution.”

“We think we should move in together.  But we know that it would leave both of you without roommates,” Beth interjected. 

Chris’s turn.  “Plus, all the apartments in this complex are taken.  And it would be hard to find two roommates this late in the semester, so…”

“We thought we would ask if you would be okay with Chris and Etta switching apartments,” Beth said hopefully.  “That way, neither one of you would be stuck with the full rent…”

“And you wouldn’t have to chance it with someone you don’t know,” Chris finished.

“And we wouldn’t have to feel so guilty asking you to leave all the time,” Beth added.   

They did that finishing-each-other’s-sentences thing all the time.  It was so friggin annoying. 

I looked at Etta to gauge her reaction.  Nothing.  Her face was completely blank. 

“Well?” Beth asked, just about bouncing up and down on Chris’s lap.

Etta focused her blank look on me.  “Can I talk to you a minute?” 

I nodded and stood.  Luckily, my turned-on level was back in the safety zone.  She led me to my room, and when she closed the door, the safety zone was threatened. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she began, not taking her hand off the doorknob.

“You don’t.”  It was a statement, not a question.

“No, Nathaniel.”  She started pacing.  “What just almost happened between us is the all-time, biggest, colossally bad of bad ideas.”

I crossed my arms across my chest and had a hard time hiding my rising anger in my tone.  “Care to tell me why?” 

“Because… we’re friends.  And I like that.  Your friendship means a lot to me.  I don’t want to do anything to screw that up.”

Fuck.  “Why do you think it would screw this up?”

She stopped pacing and threw her hands up.  “Things would change, Nathaniel.  Getting close, like that, it always changes things.”  She sat down on my bed.  “We work, like this.  Friends.  I like things the way they are, that’s why us living together is a bad idea.”

I ran my hands over my head several times.  I didn’t agree with her, but I also didn’t want to fight.  Missing the opportunity to be with her was nothing compared to the thought of losing her completely.  I sighed.  “Okay.  Let’s go tell them.”  I turned to leave the room.

“Wait, can we forget what happened?”

Never.  “Yes.  We’ll blame it on the alcohol.”

She smiled.  “We can’t blame that wussy little amount of alcohol, Nathaniel.  I mean, not to sound like a stereotype or anything, but my half-German, half-Irish ancestry contributes to my ability to hold my liquor.  No matter how much I’ve had, I have never been drunk in my life.”

“Huh.  That’s good to know.” I smiled despite my disappointment in this whole conversation. “Consider it forgotten.”  I waved my arm toward the door.  “Can we go now?”

She studied my face for a few moments.  “Damn,” she muttered under her breath as she breezed past me. 

I placed my hand on her arm to stop her.  “If you change your mind about the moving thing, I’m okay with it.  Friends is all you want to be, it’s all we will be.  Whatever you want…” I kissed her on her temple quickly, “…I’ll do.”  I opened the door and left the room. 

Etta came out and began talking in hushed tones to Beth.  I grabbed the pizza box, the glasses, and the tequila bottle off the table and took them to the kitchen.  Chris followed me.

“What did y’all decide?” he whispered. 

“She doesn’t want to move in with me.” 

“That sucks, Man.”  Chris was the only person on the planet, besides my mom, who knew the details of my relationship with Etta, at least from my side.  He and I had been best friends since the we went to the little league world series together.  It was fortunate that we both were at Rice on scholarship. 

Chris watched me move around the kitchen putting the pizza in the refrigerator and the tequila on the shelf.  When I washed the glasses out in the sink, he clapped me on the back.  “Trust me.  I have a plan.  I’ll see what I can do.”

“What does that mean?”

He smiled.   “Trust me.”

 

***

 

November 11, nine years ago

 

Chris had slowly starting moving his stuff to the other apartment and hadn’t spent but one night here in the past week.  I was alone.  Sitting on my couch, alone with the thoughts of her, the memory of what happened fresh on my mind.  And what could have happened.  However, the rejection weighed like a ton.  She wanted me last week, that I could tell.  She just didn’t want to want me.  Chris was right, it really sucked. 

I hadn’t seen her since last week.  I kept pretty busy with school, studying and working out.  I was avoiding her and trying to look like I wasn’t avoiding her.  I thought about going out and finding a random girl last weekend, but it actually felt like a betrayal, like I’d be cheating on her.  Friggin whipped. 

After today’s late workout, I decided a shower was in order.  I was either going to need to make it a cold shower, or I would need to use the image I couldn’t get out of my head, the one of her so fucking obviously turned on, especially her eyes, to take matters into my own hands.  Decision made.  I’d lost count how many showers I’d taken like this in the past week.  Pathetic. 

It didn’t take long.  I mean the memory of her eyes alone was enough to get me rock hard, so the actual act?  Yeah, like I was thirteen again.

I put only my sweats on.  Chris hadn’t officially moved out yet.  He and Beth could come over at any time, so sitting around in my underwear was not an option.  I looked at the couch, opting to lay on it to see if Etta’s scent lingered.  It did.  Or it could have been in my head.  Shit, this sucked.  I decided to watch some TV to see if it could take my mind off my possible mini-depression.  I flipped through and decided on SportsCenter.  After a couple of hours of flipping back and forth between a few channels, I nodded off to the updates on all the latest football injuries.  

Pounding.  Was it in my head?  Was it in my chest?  Nope.  It was at the door.

I swung my legs off the couch and looked at the clock.  It was almost two in the morning. I headed for the door, using the light of the TV, the only light in the apartment.  I grabbed my old bat, the one we kept close to the front door for protection, and opened the door a crack. 

Glassy greyish-greenish-blue eyes stared back.  I opened the door all the way.  She carried her pillow under one arm and a backpack over the other shoulder.  She looked like she was trying not to cry.

I opened my arms, and she damn near threw herself in them, snuggling against me.  I could feel her tears on my naked chest.  I pulled her in the apartment and closed the door. 

“Can I live with you?  Please?  I can’t take it.  They’re so loud, and I’m so tired.  I just need some sleep.  I have to be up in four hours.  I haven’t gotten a full night sleep in a week.  A week!  I can’t be in the training room like this.  Every night.  All night.  Them.  So loud.  Every damn night.  I can’t live like this.”  She was full-on sobbing now.  “I can’t deal with this every night.  They said they were moving in my apartment because they liked it better.  But I just can’t take it.  Please, Nathaniel, please let me live here.  Please.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for what I said.  We can be friends who live together.  Friends live together all the time, right?  Tell me it’s okay.  Please.  I don’t usually beg, but I’m begging you.  I’m almost totally crazy after one week; I’ll go completely psychotic serial killer if I have to live one more…”

“Okay, Eddie.”

She pulled back and looked me in the eye.  “Really?”

I smiled.  “Anything to get you to shut up.”

She resumed her position against my chest and sniffled as I kissed the top of her head and inhaled.  Perfect. 

She was where she should be. 

“Oh my God, thank you, Nathaniel.  The entire population of loud sex people thank you, too.  They can rest easy now that I don’t have to kill them all.”

And so began cohabitation with Etta Fontella Sullivan.

I know, right? Fontella?