“What time is it?” I asked, pulling the thin sheet around my body.

“I think it’s nearly three,” he responded with a mouthful of crackers. All of that lovemaking had worked up an appetite.

“Are we going to stay in here all day?” I asked hopefully.

“That’s fine with me,” he responded.

It felt nice not to be fighting for once. I lay on the bed and watched him move around the bedroom. His body was like the sculptures I’d seen during trips to various European art museums. When he moved, I could see each individual muscle through his smooth skin. When he laughed, each square building block of his abs popped.

When he squatted down to pick up our forgotten clothes off of the floor, I could see each quad muscle in his thigh. When he pulled me in close, his biceps bulged.

I’d spent so much time around football players, that the male body didn’t even faze me. The team had a penchant for walking around the athletic department in minimal clothing.

They wore cutoff t-shirts during practice that hardly covered anything. They waked through the trainer’s office in nothing but their spandex shorts. Thinking back, I couldn’t remember a time where I saw even remotely this much of Martin. I couldn’t stop looking at him.

In my experience, when guys have great bodies, they’re lacking in some other aspect of life.

I’d met bodybuilder types who were rude to people, jocks that weren’t smart enough to string two sentences together, and models who took themselves way too seriously. I wasn’t sure what Martin’s deficiency was. He was pretty smart, funny, and nice—once you got to know him.

He wasn’t the kind of guy my parents would want me to marry, that was for sure. I didn’t know much about his life, but I guessed he was fairly middle class. That was his deficiency, that he was perfectly normal.

“I think Reg and Sasha will be back with the food soon. Do you want to borrow some clothes?” he asked.

I nodded. I had been putting on and taking off the same outfit, and I didn’t want to put unwashed clothes back on. He gave me one of his t-shirts and practice shorts. They were baggy, but incredibly comfortable. They smelled clean, but also like Martin. It was like being in his embrace.

“Did you realize,” I started, “that Sasha and Reg have been out there, together for as long as we’ve been stuck here in this room?”

“I didn’t even think about that,” he said.

“I’ve been so preoccupied with other things that I haven’t even had the chance to talk to Sasha about him.”

I felt a little guilty. There was something big happening in my best friend’s life and I hadn’t even asked her about it. She knew about everything I was going through, and always listens to everything I have to say. In any other instance, I’d be texting her immediately if I had hooked up with a guy. Especially when the sex was that great.

“I think they’re good together,” Martin said.

“I agree. I’ve always liked him,” I said.

“He’s a good guy. We’ve lived together all four years. He’s had some tough breaks with girls recently, so I’m glad he’s found a good one.”

“Really?” I said incredulously. “He’s cute. I can’t believe he has a hard time getting girls.”

“He’s the type of guy that would rather have a serious girlfriend, rather than sleep with whoever he can. You’d be surprised how many girls aren’t looking for a relationship.”

“I can believe it,” I said. “Relationships can be a lot of work. Sometimes it’s easier to have fun instead.”

Martin smirked.

“So are you telling me that Sasha is the first girl he’s slept with?” I asked.

“How do you know they slept together?

I laughed. “I don’t, I just know Sasha.”

“No, he had a pretty serious girlfriend a few years ago. She cheated on him, though, and it broke his heart. He’s sworn off women since.”

I felt bad for him. He was a nice guy. I was glad that he had Sasha.

I felt a pang of loneliness in the pit of my stomach. They could go out in public and hold hands. They’d probably visit each other’s parents over the summer. I didn’t have that option with Martin.

Just then, the door opened a crack and a few takeout boxes of Chinese food appeared. I could hear soft voices, a giggle, and the slam of a bedroom door across the hall.

“Thank God!” Martin exclaimed. “I was afraid that I was going to have to eat you if they didn’t come back with food soon!”

I raised one eyebrow at him.

Reg and Sasha had done well. I opened containers filled with rice, lo mein, and General Tso’s chicken.

“Aw, man” Martin said, disappointed. “They forgot forks. I’ll call Reg.”

“No, don’t,” I said quickly. “I think they’re, uh, busy.”

I dug through the bag to double check for silverware.

“Here,” I said. “There’s chopsticks in there.”

“I don’t know how to use them,” Martin said, a little embarrassed.

“I’ll teach you,” I said.

I arranged the chopsticks in his hand and used my hands to manipulate his.

“Got it?”

“I think so,” he said.

I let go of his hand and the chopsticks crossed and slid out of position almost immediately. I tried not to laugh. I didn’t want to make fun of him, but his concentration was adorable.

“Try again,” I said, repositioning the chopsticks.

He managed to pick up a single piece of chicken and slowly brought it to his mouth. As he opened his mouth, it fell back onto the container, splattering sauce on his face.

I couldn’t hold back my giggles. I found a napkin and dabbed at the mess on his face.

“I’m going to starve,” he said dramatically. “Can I just eat with my fingers?

“No,” I answered. “You’ll make a huge mess. I’ll help you.”

I picked up a piece of chicken with ease and held it to his lips.

“Is it okay if I just feed you?” I asked.

“Normally, I would find this demeaning,” he said. “But no one is around, and I am starving, so it’s perfectly fine with me.”

We alternated bites; one for him, one for me. There was something oddly intimate about feeding Martin like this.

“Where did you learn how to use those?” he asked, pointing at the chopsticks.

“When I was younger, my dad traveled a lot for work,” I said. “He liked to take me with him. We spent a month in Asia, just me, my dad, and my nanny. I tried sushi in Japan when I was ten and absolutely loved it. Let me tell you, when your first sushi experience is in Japan, every other sushi restaurant in America will pale in comparison.”

“Isn’t that raw fish?” he crinkled his nose.

“You’ve never had sushi?” I asked, shocked.

“It never appealed to me,” he answered.

“I’m so taking you out for sushi sometime soon,” I said, forgetting that we agreed there would be no “going out” at all.

“So where else have you traveled,” he asked.

“Oh, lots of places,” I said nonchalantly. “I’ve been all over Asia with my dad and I went to Australia after I graduated from high school. My mom loves traveling around Europe, so we usually go to some fancy resort once a year. My mom once took me to Paris to buy a dress for the prom. What about you?”

As soon as I asked that question, I regretted it. He looked away.

“Well, I certainly haven’t traveled like you. That’s for sure. My family mostly stayed in Colorado. My mom and I went camping and hiking quite a bit. Every summer she would take a week off of work and we’d go up in the mountains and pitch a tent in a campground. We’d go fishing and mountain biking.”

I had never been camping in a tent. The thought of it seemed terrible, but I didn’t want to shatter his pleasant memories.

“And I went to Disney World when I was eight. That was pretty awesome,” he added.

I felt sorry for him. I bet he didn’t even have a passport. I had gone through a few passports at this point, because the pages always filled up so quickly.

I pretended that I was full so he could eat the rest of the food. He held the box of rice up to his mouth and used the chopsticks to scrape the sticky rice into his face. For as much as he ate, it was a wonder that he stayed so trim.

I found two fortune cookies in the bottom of the bag and handed one to Martin. I opened mine, crunching on one shard of the cookie.

“What does yours say?” he asked while he unwrapped his cookie.

“You will reveal a deep, dark secret.”

“Well… what’s your deep, dark secret?” he asked.

I thought for a moment. There were a few things that I should probably tell him about. I didn’t want to spoil such a good afternoon, though.

“I don’t think I have any,” I lied.

“Wow, you are a terrible liar,” he chuckled. “Spill it.”

“It’s nothing much. You promise you won’t be upset?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“Do you remember that party at the end of last season? You guys had lost the final game and everyone was trying to drink enough to forget all about it.”

“Yeah, I was in rare form that night.”

“I know, and you were pissing me off. What else do you remember about that night?”

“Not a lot, to be completely honest.”

“I’ll tell you what I remember: I was dancing with a guy on the track team. We were hitting it off pretty well. All of a sudden, just as this guy is about to kiss me, I see you in the corner of the room, alone. I watched you pull the fire alarm and sneak away. Some of the sprinklers went off, and the dirty, stagnant pipe water got all over my hair and dress. I had just dyed my hair the evening before, and the water caused the color to bleed all over my new white dress.”

Martin was silent.

“So anyway, I was a mess and I had to go home and clean up. I never heard from the guy again.”

“How is this your secret?” he asked. “That was my secret. Nobody saw me do it, and everyone blamed Donny. I didn’t think you knew.”

“Now, this is where my secret comes in,” I continued. “The next weekend, you were hosting a big party. I overheard you telling someone how excited you were. I was still furious from the weekend before. I wanted to crush you. Since you invited mostly football players and their friends, I sent a mass text telling them that the party was being moved to my place.”

“That was you? I spent so much money on drinks and snacks for everyone. I was pretty upset when no one showed up. I didn’t really talk to anyone on the team for a week.”

“I feel terrible about it now. I was just so upset that you ruined my time at that party that I wanted to ruin yours too. I’m really sorry.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry that I ruined your new dress and your night. It was a stupid decision.”

“Why did you pull that fire alarm anyway,” I questioned.

He smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t stand the sight of you being so close to someone who wasn’t me.”

I forgave him with a soft kiss on the cheek. I kissed him again, this time on his lips.

“No more mean pranks,” he said.

“Agreed.”

He got up to clear the empty food cartons and when he returned to the bed, he crawled toward me, cupping my face with his hands. We wordless agreed to take off our clothes and slide back underneath the covers.

The last time we made love, it was urgent and hasty. We had spent years fantasizing about what it would be like to sleep together, and when the moment finally came, we had to act before we burst from built up sexual tension.

This time, we took things slower. We took the time to explore each other’s bodies, to see what got us really going. I wanted to take my time, touching every inch of his taut body.

In the past, sex was always like a business transaction. I was just looking to receive pleasure. Now, I felt like I was making a deeper connection with him. With Martin, I had it all. We took great pleasure from the good sensations we gave to each other. I felt a closeness to him that I had never felt with another person in my whole life.

When we finished, we laid on our sides, facing each other. We kissed, leisurely for what seemed like an hour. I pulled back and he tucked a strand of my hair being my ear.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, dreamily.

“You never told me what your fortune cookie said.”

He reached over to his nightstand grabbed the little white strip of paper.

I read it.

The one you love is much closer than you think.