Bliss
My gloved fingers tap softly against my lips, and I can't help but smile to myself. He kissed me, again, and it was, gosh, it was nice. I shouldn't compare, but kissing Cuba made Dex look like a beginner. Each nip and sweep of his tongue is embedded in my memory from last night.
I thought about it on the hour and a half drive to my mom's house in Palm Springs. When I say, I thought about it, I really mean I obsessed over every touch, every breath, trying to dissect and figure him out. My wanting to know him is growing, and now that he is willing to slowly open up to me, I can't think of anything else, including my task at hand.
Sprinkles of dirt hit my face, shaking me from my thoughts. I glare at my mom who is kneeling next to me with her hand shovel. “You’re supposed to be helping me, not daydreaming,” she teases with a smile.
I smile back and continue filling dirt around the flowers I'm working on. “Sorry,” I mumble embarrassed. I rarely get caught daydreaming and lately it's been becoming a habit. I blame it on the hazel eyed, tattooed basketball player.
She hums and continues to plant the rest of the flowers next to her, and I relax just being near her. I lived with my mom the whole time growing up and would see my dad on weekends, even now that I live in LA, I can't go long without seeing my mom on Saturdays, and my Sunday nights are usually spent, having dinner with dad. Sometimes, I used to wish they would get back together, every kid wishes for that, but now that I'm older, I see they are happy. They never say one bad thing about one another and sometimes we even have a meal together. Neither of them has remarried, they date here and there but it's never anything serious. I wonder if they ever feel lonely. I wouldn't want to grow old alone and never finding love again.
I wipe sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. We have been out in the sun all afternoon, planting the new flowers mom bought this morning before I arrived. We do this sometimes, and I'm glad I wore jeans and a tee.
“So, who's the boy?” Her question startles me. “That has you daydreaming, is it that boy?”
My lips twitch, my parents hated Dex and it was no surprise when I told them we broke up they asked if I wanted to celebrate.
“No, I'm not thinking of Dex,” I assure her. “It’s nothing, Mom.”
“Do I look stupid?” She sets down her tools and leans back on her knees.
“Serious, just a guy I'm tutoring.” A guy that kisses my breath away. A guy I need to put the brakes on Monday, because that can't happen again.
Mom hums again dusting off her shorts. “What's his name?”
“Cuba.”
“What year is he?”
That's a great question, I have no idea. So, I shrug. “Not sure, I think he's a senior this year.” Wow, I really don't know much about him, yet I let him devour my mouth last night. Great.
Her eyebrows lift. “But you're attracted to him.” It's not a question and I hate how she knows these things.
“It's complicated.” That's an understatement because I don't even know what's happening myself.
“Want to explain over lunch?” she asks. “I fried up some bacon this morning, we can have BLTs.”
My stomach growls at the mention of bacon. “Not much to explain but lunch sounds great, I'm dying in this sun.”
We get up and dust ourselves off, leaving our gardening tools on the ground for later. I follow mom through the house and into the kitchen where she starts to get lunch ready, and I grab plates and cups from the shelf. I always loved this house, even when I was a little girl and my grandpa lived here before my parents divorced. It's simple and cozy with its smaller rooms and warm colors, it didn't fit the glamorous neighborhood with the all fancy trees and plants, but it has a simple garden in the back that I love. I used to visit all the time and grandpa would tell me about ancient Rome, he's the reason I study history, his love for it transferred over to me. We spent many nights cuddled on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn watching the newest documentaries or T.V. specials on anything related to ancient civilization, sometimes even about the medieval British royals. I had a crush on King Henry the eighth, I found him fascinating for a mad man. I miss him, my grandpa, Alzheimer’s is a bitch. Watching the man with the most beautiful mind lose everything, nearly killed me. It's been two years, and every now and then, I just wish he was here, to see that I'm following my dreams.
Shaking away my thoughts, I meet my mom at the table where she has placed the sandwiches and iced tea. Setting down the plates and cups, I slide in the chair across from her.
“So, tell me about this Cuba guy.” She wastes no time, huh? The only serious boyfriend I've had was Dex. I dated briefly in high school, barely long enough to have a date for prom.
A stupid smile curves my lips as I tell her about the sexiest guy I have ever tutored between bites. The more I talk about him, the more questions I have, like how old is he? Is he graduating this year? All I know is he played basketball, and he is clearly popular, everyone knows him. I also know he is haunted, and I have a feeling it has to do with this Jackson guy.
“Sounds like he doesn't know if he likes you or not.” Mom wipes her mouth with a napkin, “He sounds complicated, and you don't have time for that, baby girl. Let that one go.”
Frowning I push my plate away. “Yeah, but-”
She cuts me off taking my plate away. “And he's a jock. Didn't you just get cheated on by one?”
She's right, Dex did cheat on me. Of course, I know I can't judge every athlete based on my last relationship but part of me does. I have no idea what is going on between Cuba and me, so before I go making something into nothing, I shut down the idea, because what I saw last night is that girls want him, girls that are gorgeous. I wouldn't be thinking realistically if I think he's a one-woman man.
I force a fake smile that I'm sure she can see through. “Like I said mom, there's nothing going on. He's cute, that's it.”
She arches a dark eyebrow. “Yeah, okay. I just don't want you to get screwed over by some jock again.”
I want to argue that Cuba is not like Dex, but how do I know that for sure? I don't, I need to keep him at arm's length because I can't go through that again, and with Cuba, it might actually hurt.
So, I agree by nodding my head, no point in getting into my feelings with my mom when I can tell she is not impressed with Cuba. We go on to talk about dad and how busy he has been lately working on some case, he even had to cancel our Sunday dinner plans with promises of dinner on Monday. It doesn't bother me, because he usually is never like this, dad always makes time for me. What does bother me are my feelings for Cuba, and my confusion makes it worse.
Pushing Cuba far from my mind, I spend the rest of the day gardening with mom and sweating in the blazing sun. Although I needed this, I was ready to go home and avoid India as much as possible. She’s going to want to talk about last night, to ask if anything happened between Cuba and me. How can I answer that if I don’t even know what’s going on with us?
I managed to avoid India for at least two hours this morning since she wasn't home when I got there last night. Actually, Indi is barely ever home, my roommate and best friend is odd. Sometimes, I wonder where she really came from, because there are times when her light country accent slips, but I never say anything because when she's ready she'll tell me what planet she is really from.
That’s what I’m thinking as she snuggles next me in my bed as we pass the vape back and forth. It’s never too early to get high on a Sunday, especially with my mind running back to thoughts of Cuba at any chance. I inhale deeply in frustration because I have never had this problem. Sure, I liked my ex, he was tolerable, but I never thought about him this much, I don’t even remember our kisses. With Cuba I remember everything, the way his eyes narrow when he’s confused or trying to pick the right words to say, the way he winces when he knows he said something wrong, and the way he switches from hot to cold, because probably just like me, he doesn’t know how he’s feeling. I have tutored many students in the last two and half years, many of them good-looking athletes that are charming, and I never felt that instant connection until he was sitting there when I stepped through the door.
“So how was the trip to Cuba?” Indi takes the vape from my hand. “Is it as gorgeous as everyone says it is?”
I frown at the thought of him with other girls and I take the vape back and inhale. “I wouldn’t know, I’m still on the boat.” Thick smoke escapes from my open mouth.
“Like a speed boat?”
“No, I’m on a paddle boat, and I can still see the Miami shore.”
Indi starts coughing up smoke, laughing. “Oh my God,” she coughs out and tries to catch her breath. “Seriously though, do you want to visit Cuba?”
I turn to face her. “Hell yes, but it’s so complicated and I don’t need complicated.”
She nods, her eyebrows furring together. “I get it after Dex, that asshole is nowhere on the same level as Cuba.”
I nod quickly. “Like Dex is definitely a lowly commoner and Cuba is like royalty.”
Indi laughs. “You are such a nerd, but I love your face.”
I laugh too. “Same. We are so high.”
“Think it’s too early to order pizza?”
I inhale the vape deeply, the smoke burning the back of my throat. “No.”
India rolls off my bed. “Bring the vape to the living room, I’m going to order food.”
Rolling on my back, I grab my phone off the night-stand. I would have thought he would have at least text me once, but nothing. Why would he text me? He just likes to kiss me and throw mixed signals that I think about way too much.
Groaning, I roll out of bed only wearing a black tee shirt that has shrunk, showing my stomach, and a pair of my favorite boy shorts that have pink bows on them. I do my morning routine, and once I'm seated on our couch and pulling the fluffy white blanket over my legs, I scroll through Instagram then through Facebook. It's amazing to see what everyone has been doing with their life since high school, not that I talk to most of them anymore, but I like to silently to judge all the popular girls that were once my friends, before they went to Vegas instead of supporting me at my grandpa's funeral, but that's neither here nor there.
Indi comes from the hallway, she's now wearing leggings and a tank, her brown hair in a knot on top of her head. “The pizza is ordered and will be here in thirty. What should we binge watch today?” She flops next to me and turns the T.V. on.
Tossing my phone down, I watch as she puts on Netflix. “The Tudors.”
“No, we watched that last weekend. You are not slick.” She shoves me, “Nothing that has to do with history.”
“Everything has to do with history, that’s why it’s called history.” I roll my eyes. “Duh.”
“Well, you know what I mean.” Indi starts going through the new releases. “Narcos, it is. We haven’t seen season three.”
I fight a smile, I’m not going to remind her that Narcos is history too.
There’s a knock at the door and I look to Indi who is tapping away on her phone. “No way it’s been thirty minutes already.” I can’t be that high.
She takes a hit off the vape and shrugs. “It’s probably Patrick, he said he might come by.”
The knock comes again, and India doesn’t move. Fine. I throw my blanket off and stalk to the door throwing it open without looking through the peep hole, my eyes are way too heavy for that.
It’s not Patrick’s green eyes looking back at me, they’re hazel and those eyes are locked on my legs. Of course, I would open the door in my underwear. I mentally shoot myself.
“What are you doing here?” I snap causing his eyes to fly to mine. “You know it’s rude to stop by unannounced.” I hate that I sound like a bitch but I’m freaking out. Not only am I standing here in my panties, I’m high and I’m trying hard not laugh at this.
Cuba cocks an eyebrow and flashes a smile, unaffected by my attitude. “I like the bows.”
Heat rises through my face, and I’m sure I’m red. “I didn’t wear them for you.”
His smiles falters, “The fact that they are even on tells me whoever you did wear them for didn’t make it that far.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m taken care of,” I lie. “So why are you here?”
Cuba shifts on his feet and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, and I’m finally able to focus enough to take him in. He must have just come from working out, he has on running shoes, black joggers, and his university basketball hoodie, a black hat covers his head. He looks sexy even in my high state.
I don’t even notice I’m staring until he clears his throat and my eyes snap to his. “Arrow.” He smirks. “Are you high?”
I try to act appalled but fail and choke back a laugh. “Um, no. Why would you even think that?”
He smiles, rocks back on his heels and licks his lips, lips that I remember feeling against mine.
“Your eyes are squinty, and you have this goofy smile on your face, and let’s be honest, I didn’t put it there.”
I roll my eyes. “Last time I checked weed was legal in the state of California.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t say anything was wrong with it. You just always surprise me.”
Yeah, you surprise me as well.
“So, what are you doing here?” I ask again, when I see his eyes wander down my body, and I remember I’m standing there in nothing but my panties and too small shirt.
He looks back to me. “Um.”
“Um isn’t an answer,” I say placing a hand on my hip.
“Okay, Judge Judy,” he mocks and pulls something out of his hoodie pocket. “You left this in my car.” He dangles one of my gold bangles in front of me.
Grabbing my bangle, I slip my wrist through it. “Thanks, but you could have brought it tomorrow.”
Cuba shrugs and looks around before looking back to me. “Yeah, well I was around the area and shit.”
I hold back a smile and raise an eyebrow. “Sure, you were. Are you sure you didn’t just want to see me?”
He has the nerve to look sheepish and it’s kind of cute.
“I didn’t want to forget.” He gives another shrug and fidgets with his hat. “You need to go back in the house, you shouldn’t be out here where anyone can see you.”
Typical Cuba. He’s getting uncomfortable with me again and he’s running.
I take a deep breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow, thanks for bringing it to me.”
He takes a step forward and I hold my breath. His eyes are on my lips, and I already know where his mind is, right in the same place as mine. Swear, his mouth could take me out my panties right now.
“Um, I have a delivery.”
We both snap our heads to the voice, the delivery guy is standing there, pizza bag in hand. His beady eyes locked on my bottom as if he’s never seen a girl in her underwear before, and by the looks of him, I can see why.
Cuba snaps his fingers. “Eyes up here, bro.” He steps in front of me and grabs his wallet from his pants. “How much?” he snaps.
I start to protest but he shakes his head as if he knows. “I got it.”
“Fifteen Oh Three,” the delivery guy stammers. “You’re Cuba Knight.”
Shifting slightly, I look around Cuba’s body at the guy, he couldn’t be any older than us. Huh, so he’s like famous?
Cuba grabs a couple twenties from his wallet. “Yeah,” He hands him the cash, and waits for the pizza box. “You can go now,” he grits out.
Delivery guy wastes no time getting the hell out of dodge.
“Jeeze, you didn’t have to scare the kid.”
He spins toward me, he isn’t smiling. “Get your ass in the house, Bliss.” He holds out the box and I snatch it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Cuba.” I roll my eyes, turning around.
This hot and cold thing is getting old. If he won't do something about it then I will, starting tomorrow. Operation Cuba is back in motion.
I kick the door closed without looking back.