The way FC looks at me right now is dangerous. Hot and sultry, but dangerous. I twist to grab my notebook from the table behind the couch.
“What’s that?” FC asks.
“It’s my list of FC names. I write down all the names I’ve asked, so I won’t ask them again, and if I think of a name, I’ll jot it down to ask you later.”
“Let me see that,” he says, and I hand him the notebook. He smiles as he flips through the pages, running his fingertips over my handwriting. “Do you want me to go through and put an X by these for you while I’m here?”
“No!” I snatch it back. “That’s not how this works.” Flipping back to my most recent page, I say, “I want to ask you at least one right now, so,” I look at him, “Felix Carlos?”
FC already wears a grin and it stays as he shakes his head.
“Darn it,” I whisper, reaching for the pen and putting an X by those names. I put the notebook back in its place. “You know, I can take you home in the morning. I have to be at work by seven, so we’ll have to get up early, but I don’t mind.”
“If you really want to do it, then I won’t stop you, but you don’t have to.”
Do I want to spend an extra hour with him? Absolutely. Even if it means getting up way early.
“Tell me a secret, Idaline,” FC commands.
Every so often, he requests this of me. I don’t mind telling him something. Mostly because I always get a secret in return. The secrets aren’t always serious or deep, but it’s always something he didn’t know about me before and something very few, if any, people know about me.
My instinct is to tell something light and funny, but that is not what spills from my lips as I lean my head against the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling. “I worry I won’t ever settle down.”
“Why? You’re a great catch, Idaline.”
I snort. “Yeah, something you catch and release. For the most part, I feel ready, but,” I shrug, “there’s no one to settle down with.”
“Your heart will let you know who he is; time is a fickle bitch, though. When life thinks you’re both ready, it’ll happen,” FC reassures me.
“What’s your secret?” I ask, not wanting to dwell on this for too long.
“I’m an alcoholic.” At this, I sit up straight, turning completely toward him as I crisscross my legs. “My mom worries I drink too much, but I’ve never actually admitted it out loud.”
So many things cross my mind. How long has he been an alcoholic? How bad is it? What does his girlfriend think about this? But I shove all of those aside and ask, “Well, do you want to get help and stop?”
FC sighs. “I can still get up and go to work the next day and…” His voice trails off as he shakes his head, now refusing to look at me. “I hate to say this, especially to you, but I don’t know, Idaline. The only thing it’s hurting right now is my liver.”
“Okay,” I whisper. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Thanks. I hate to further ruin this night, but I’m exhausted. Where is the bathroom and where will I sleep?”
“I only have one bedroom, so all I have is my couch. I’ll grab some sheets and a pillow and show you the bathroom.” We stand and FC follows me, disappearing into my bathroom while I walk into my room to find what I need to set him up on the couch. I have him a little bed made by the time he returns from the bathroom. “All set up. Make yourself at home if you wake up and need a drink or something.”
“Thanks.” He steps forward and hugs me again. “I’d be lost without you, Idaline,” he whispers. His hugs are killing me. They feel so good and solid and perfect. They’re exactly what I imagined a hug from FC would be like. Even when he’s obviously in a bad place, his hugs are still the most comforting thing I’ve ever experienced. I don’t ever want to let go. And then, he tells me something like that? The world fades away more and more with every second. “One day, we’ll have a first meeting re-do.”
I pull back the tiniest bit to look at him. “Let’s not wait twelve years to see one another again, okay?”
FC smiles. “I can definitely promise that.”
And then, our eyes don’t move away. Our souls reach out to one another, wrapping around one another and refusing to let go. Our heads inch closer and closer until his mouth touches mine. I may have just died and come back to life. No, that’s not right. His kiss brings me to life for the first time in my twenty-five years. It became the best kiss of my life the moment his lips met mine, and every second after that became the best time of my life.
It’s slow. It’s minty as if he somehow brushed his teeth. It’s infused with twelve years of want, need, and sexual frustration. It’s…
“Fuck, Idaline. I’m sorry.” FC takes five steps away from me, leaving my body cold, my mind confused, and my soul chasing desperately after his. He shakes his head. “You have a boyfriend, and this is not the kind of man I want to be around you. I’m so sorry.”
He’s…sorry? Numbness hits me hard. “It’s okay,” I lie. “I should go to bed.” I walk around him and to my room, hoping he’ll stop me and say something else, anything else, but he never does. I close my bedroom door, get ready for bed, take my pills, and crawl beneath my sheets.
How can he be sorry for something I was waiting for since I was thirteen? I don’t care what happens, I could never regret that kiss. It’s singlehandedly the best first kiss I’ve ever had, except for the apology that came afterward. My lips still tingle from the sensation of his mouth on mine. How can I forget that happened? Because I can promise I won’t.
In fact, I replay the kiss over and over in my head and it only takes a few minutes for me to fall asleep.
However, in the morning, when I wake up and walk to the bathroom to take my shower, I find a piece of paper on the counter next to the sink. My heart drops as I quickly read it.
I’m so sorry, Idaline. I feel like I’ve said that to you too much lately, but it’s something you deserve to hear from me. You should go back to bed because I’ve left. Please don’t be upset with me for being overly cautious and leaving so you won’t have to take me home. You admitted that your mental health hasn’t been too great lately and I don’t want to cause any anxiety by forcing you to be stuck in a car with me for an hour after that kiss last night.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t want to mess us up. You have no idea what your friendship means to me. Me leaving early is the only way I know how to look out for you. We’ll talk soon, I promise.
And if it makes you feel any better, I miss you already.
He left without saying goodbye? With the note in hand, I run to the front door, hoping with every fiber of my being that I can catch him somehow. Smoke hits me when I rip the door open. FC twists with a frown from where he sits on the one step of my front porch. Relief causes me to drop to my knees and hug him.
“Idaline, you’ll smell like cigarettes,” FC wheezes while I squeeze as tight as I can, so thankful he hasn’t left yet.
“I don’t care.” Even though it does seriously stink. “You’re not allowed to leave without saying goodbye, FC,” I whisper. “And I’m taking you home.” He’s still here, and I’m getting that extra time with him.
“Idaline,” he sighs.
“No.” I lean back, our arms falling to our sides, and that’s when it hits me that I’m only wearing a T-shirt. I tug it down over my knees. “I’m fine, FC. No anxiety. Please?”
He looks at me as if he’s waiting for something to hit me and give me anxiety. As if he’s waiting for me to realize something and I haven’t done it yet. “Okay. Go get ready then. I won’t go anywhere.”
I stand and hurry inside, feeling awkward about being so underdressed around him, especially after last night. After stopping in my room to put his note in my nightstand, I return to the bathroom and get ready for the long day ahead. I release a breath when I walk into my living room to find that FC is indeed still here.
“Ready?” I ask.
“As I’ll ever be.” He wears a smirk as he looks at me, but there’s nothing smirky going on.
“What’s with the smirk?” I finally ask once we’re outside, walking to my car.
“I’ve never actually seen you in scrubs.” He motions to my entire body. “I only get from here up.” He points to the middle of his torso. There’s that smirk again. “You pull them off, Idaline.”
I laugh. “Should I wear them on my next date?” I ask.
“Maybe.” FC gives me an address for my GPS and then we’re well on our way. “You aren’t mad at me, are you? For what I was going to do?”
“I was more upset that you were leaving without saying goodbye than why you were leaving. That hurt.”
“We’re oh and one as far as meetings go,” he says with a bit of a sigh.
“I disagree,” I reply immediately.
“How the fuck can you say that, Idaline? I showed up last-minute and I wasn’t exactly sober. I bawled my eyes out. The kiss. And I tried sneaking out on you this morning.”
I shrug as if none of that matters. And it doesn’t, especially since I’m counting the kiss as one of the good things that happened. “Because we finally met, spent time together, and got twelve years’ worth of hugs.” I glance over at FC and see him smiling.
“You’re too positive this early in the morning.”
“It’s one of those days. You got lucky.”
At that, he laughs.
We carry on easy conversation for the rest of the ride. FC not-so-subtly hints and reminds me he thinks I should break it off with Daniel as soon as possible whenever I mention I have the next few days off.
“Uh, FC, this is a store,” I say when I pull in where the GPS directs me to.
“I know. I need a pack of cigarettes. My apartment complex isn’t too far from here. I can walk the rest of the way. I’m not discussing that with you or changing my mind, so wipe that frown off your face and give me a hug.” He leans over the console to hug me. “Thanks for being there when I really needed you,” he whispers.
“You know you’ll always have me, especially when you need me.”
He releases me and reaches for the door handle. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay? And don’t worry if it takes me a couple of days. There’s a lot going on.”
“Okay.”
And just like that, he gets out of my car, waves goodbye, and walks into the store, leaving me to back out of the parking space to drive back to South Carolina. My heart is heavy with worry. Something is clearly going on with FC, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. Whatever it is, I just left him in the heart of it.
About five minutes after leaving FC, the anxiety he thought I would have this morning comes like a ton of bricks. All because of one humongous thought that finally crashes down on me.
Oh, god. You have a boyfriend. FC and I became cheaters last night. I don’t know what’s more upsetting. That I’ve become a cheater or that I have to accept FC is one. Yes, it was just a kiss, but that doesn’t change anything. We’re both in relationships and we crossed a line. A line I didn’t know I could cross. There’s no such thing as just a kiss, not when it comes to cheating and not when it comes to FC.
Probably against what should be my better judgment, I grab my phone and call FC.
“Idaline, everything okay? You just left.”
“I have a boyfriend, FC!” I shout, my anxiety clutching my ribs so tightly my chest doesn’t know whether to ache or feel as if piercing pain shoots through it.
“I know,” he replies quietly. “This reaction is what I was worried about. Are you having a panic attack?”
“About two seconds away from a full blown one, FC! I’m a cheater now. You’re a cheater! What am I supposed to do with that, FC? We’re not supposed to be cheaters, together or otherwise.”
“I know it doesn’t make it any better or make you feel better, but it was only a kiss.”
Yeah, a kiss that I had no intentions of stopping. That I would’ve let go further because my mind and body focused on more and didn’t give a damn about anything else. FC is the only one who has enough sense to put an end to it.
“It’s not going to happen again, Idaline,” he tells me in this strong, soft, reassuring voice.
The stupid, crazy part is that his words bring tears to my eyes. Apparently, I’d rather be a cheater than to think about never kissing FC again. God, what is wrong with me?
“Are you going to tell Lila?” I ask.
“God, no,” FC says. “It won’t do any good. It’s not worth it.”
That kills me a little more. Not that I want to cause problems with his relationship, but a kiss with me isn’t even worth mentioning to his girlfriend? If my boyfriend kissed someone else, I’d want to know.
“And you do not tell your jealous boyfriend,” FC orders. “We don’t need to find out how he will react to this. I know you feel bad, but this is more about safety than morals, Idaline. Better to be safe than sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “And you’re not a cheater. If anyone is a cheater, it’s me. You simply reacted to me catching you off guard. You didn’t initiate it. Hell, you probably didn’t want it. You didn’t do anything wrong, Idaline.”
I have to stop myself from telling him I did want that kiss. I’ve wanted that kiss for years, and now, it’s tainted. But if FC isn’t worried about it, then I guess I shouldn’t be either. Right? Maybe. “Thanks, FC. I don’t know if you’re right, but you made me feel better.” For the time being at least.
“That’s what I’m here for. Be safe on the drive back.”
“I will.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. No matter what FC said, I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that we crossed that line while we’re in relationships and how FC didn’t seem to care that he did such a thing while with Lila. It doesn’t make sense to me. At least I have something to worry and obsess over while I work and over the weekend.