I like helping people, but each time we talk, his is the only call I want to answer. That’s not why I’m doing this. This isn’t why I wanted to volunteer. But I want more with him within such a short amount of time. More movies, more watching his face on the TV, and more of his laughs. He always sounds like they’ve been repressed for too long, needing someone to come set them free.
“Raf?”
“Yeah?” I lick my lips, my eyes still on his pretty pink ones. I imagine the bottom one’s quivering, and I bet I’d be able to feel the vibration all the way to my toes. I have to put a stop to this. I should tell him I’m busy the rest of the day. Thinking of him while awake means thinking about him while sleeping too, and that won’t be good for either of us. There’s a reason I drankso many energy drinks after meeting him in that park. The last thing I needed was to go back there while I was sleeping and wake up the next morning on the same bench he’d been sitting on. Or worse.
I want to say I waited until he faded from my mind before allowing myself to sleep, but he’s been there all this time, hidden behind all the shit I did to busy myself. It’s hard to keep pushing him back when I’m the one he keeps coming to for help. It can’t be the same reason I’m always rushing to answer, stopping whatever I’m doing.
“You didn’t tell me what happened after? Did you run out of descriptive words? Did we reach the limit?”
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “Got lost in the magic of love. I have my hopeless romantic moments, and that’s usually why when I have seen these types of movies, I’ve been alone.”
“Wait . . . like every time? Did I pop your Christmas romcom cherry?”
I choke on my next words and swallow hard before trying again. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”
“Wow. I hate watching any movie alone but especially romantic ones. All it does is remind me of how lonely I am.” He pauses. “Dang. I didn’t mean to sound like such a loner out loud.”
“You didn’t,” I reassure him. “Nothing wrong with having preferences and saying what most people think daily.”
“Not someone like you, I bet.”
“Why not someone like me?” I cock my head, letting my knees fall apart as I rest an elbow on a pillow.
“I just . . . you don’t seem like someone who’d be alone a lot . . . You know what? Forget I said that. I don’t know what I’m talking about anymore. Feel free to stop me from rambling anytime you want. Travis always did.”
He said did. Past tense. Are he and Travis no more? My heart flutters at that thought before I shut it down. No. No one is safe around me. No one is safe getting too close. That’s been proven more than once.
“Why would I wanna do that? I feel people say what they really mean when they ramble, and it tells the other person more about who they are.”
“I . . . not everyone likes it when someone has a problem shutting up when they need to.”
“Again, I’m struggling to see why there’s any need for you to. I say keep going all you want. The right people will stay to listen and enjoy everything they hear.”
“Um . . .” He lifts the camera to his face, his cheeks pinkening. “I guess I never saw it that way before.”
“So . . . you want to rewind the movie again?”
His lips move from side to side as he considers my question. Shaking his head, he opens his mouth to speak again. “No. You can just do a rehash real quick.”
“Okay. Not much happened after that anyway. They had Christmas together with his family, wearing matching pjs and baking cookies. There were some kisses shared between them—not as good as the first one.”
“Good thing you added that last sentence. I was about to ask you to describe those too, but not if they aren’t going to be worth my time.”
“If you want, I can always redescribe the one from before?” I twist my lips, trying not to sound too hopeful.
A muscle in his throat moves, and after rubbing his lips together for what feels like forever, he says, “Okay.”
Seven
Henry
We never do go back to the ending after he tells me about the two main characters losing themselves in their overly consuming kiss. Although I’m not sure it’s as hot as he describes it. It’s like he’s reliving a really good moment he had himself and he was reminded of it by the movie. Why did that make me jealous?And why, even after turning the movie off and taking the phone into my kitchen, do I keep wondering who he was thinking about while he was going into such deep detail? Each one had me melting right into the damn suede cushions.
He was right about making me feel like I was in the movie, but in my head I was in it as me, while the other person was the man who I felt was sitting right next to me. I wish I could picture his face more, but nothing I visualize matches his voice. That smooth, sultry tone that I’ll gladly take over some stupid robot anytime. I bite my tongue, opening the cabinet before closing it after my hand comes in contact with a cup instead of a bowl.
“I thought I knew this place better. I’ve been here so many times that I should.”
“Hey. It’s okay. You’ve never visited it this way before. This experience won’t be like the rest, so it’s best not to treat it like it is. Besides, how long has it been since you were last here?”
