“Do you need to take one of me?” I ask, looking determinedly at the river.
“Already did.”
I snap my head up. “What? When?”
“You don’t pay attention to anything.” Eris snorts. “When you were trying the coconut.”
I tsk, sounding just like my mother. “I didn’t like that flavor.”
“I know. Your face was funny. That’s why I took a picture.”
I groan. “You’re such a considerate fake partner, Bud.”
“Aww, I like you too, Bambi,” ze teases. “Anyway, we should take a couple selfies, too. Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
Ze looks at me like I’m being intentionally obtuse. “Because the light is better from my angle? I know you haven’t dated in a while, but this is rudimentary stuff. You never took selfies with Matt?”
“Allie always did that. Or Matt would because he was the tallest.” I shrug, tasting my ice cream, the mint flavor sharp and sweet with a nutty undertone.
“Here, turn towards me,” ze pats my thighs. The unexpected touch makes me jump.
“You’re very bossy.” I shift so my body twists towards zim, draping my free arm over the back of the bench. It’s nice, letting the rude thoughts out without worrying about what anyonemight think. I never realized how much of the real me I was swallowing, without Allie and Matt around to let it out.
“And you’re a pushover.” Passing me zis ice cream cone (my traitorous hand simply takes it), Eris pulls zis polo off, shorting out my brain into static. The light brown skin of zis broad shoulders is covered in lines of ink. Zis muscular arms flex as Eris lets down zis long hair, shaking out the waves. Left in a red satin cami, Eris settles back against my chest before I can grasp what’s happening.
My ice cream is frozen midair, halfway to my open mouth.
While my brain fights to process the solid body against mine, Eris snuggles into me. Zis brown hair smells like weed and citrus as it tickles my face. A strong hand grips my forearm to pull it around a warm, hairy, muscular chest covered in satin.
“Bro, you are so stiff right now,” Eris teases, zis grip tight on my wrist to lick the rocky road cone still in my hand. “Like, maybe I shoulda warned you. But if you want to convince anyone that you actually like me, maybe get used to physical contact.”
“Sorry.” The apology escapes my mouth before I can stop it, but I don’t know what I’m sorry for. I twist to lick up a drip of mint chip that threatens to run down the side, careful not to let any get in zis hair.
“Don’t be. I was lowkey hoping you’d react like this.” Eris chuckles.
I swat zis chest before I can think about that, too. But Eris still grips my wrist, so it’s not very effective. Especially since I’m still holding zis ice cream.
Ze just laughs, tilting zis chin back against my shoulder to grin at me, far too close to my face. “Perfect. I got a shot of your annoyed scrunchy nose, instead of just the deer in the headlights look.”
It’s then I remember Eris is taking pictures. I try to scowl, but zis big brown eyes are close enough to count every eyelash.Under such close inspection, the tiny freckles sprinkled across zis nose and cheekbones are revealed to be a colorful spray of tiny star tattoos. The pale divots under Eris’s full lips curve as ze smiles.
A boat honks on the river, and I jump. Tearing myself away from the face too close to mine, I watch a tour boat pull up to a dock.
“Relax, Bambi,” ze murmurs, low and resonant against my chest. “Just act natural.”
I have to fight to keep from squirming, my skin burning. “I’d probably have you in a chokehold, naturally.”
“Hot.” Eris snorts and settles zis head back against my shoulder, snuggling against my body more firmly. Relaxing against zim in return, I try to mask any reactions, but it’s been a very long time since I’ve cuddled with anyone. Eris’s body is solid and warm, and this is…nice. A tiny sigh escapes me. If Eris notices, ze pretends not to. For the sake of pictures to convince Matt and Allie that this is real, I rest my cheek against the smooth brown hair that smells like home and orange peels, and watch the tourists line up to board the boat.
Five
Hard Launch
Numbedbyanicepack, my knee is propped up on a stack of textbooks and a pillow. When I got home a couple of hours ago, I managed to change into my sweatpants, pop some acetaminophen, and get through one round of PT exercises before my knee protested that it was done for today. The Pink Line station outside my apartment is bright enough that I didn’t bother getting up to turn on my lights when the sun went down.
Just as the dull ache finally starts to alleviate, my phone buzzes.
