A Rose by Any Other Name

Chapter 6

"Derrick." Mike groaned, as he sat across from me on the couch, "tell me what's going on?"

I was holding a pillow to my chest, my legs crossed on the couch trying to ward off Mike's pheromones or whatever vibes he was exuding that made me kiss him. Made me enjoy kissing him.

Mike laid down on the couch, his long legs extending over the edge. He turned to face me, "If you're having regrets," he said with a yawn, "Don't."

I looked at Mike, dark golden lashes framing his cheekbones. At first I thought he was tanned, but as the winter months approached I realized his skin was always that golden brown colour. Always sun-kissed. The way he was lying on the couch, I got the urge to draw him or maybe paint him. Relaxed and beautiful.

I choked, for a moment realizing I was in no uncertain terms attracted to Mike. Really, how I had been acting ever since Cheryl showed up. I thought about it...Maybe before then.

Mike's eyes were closed, "I can hear you thinking too hard Derrick. Don't get so caught up in the details." he opened his eyes, grey eyes piercing through mine, "Did you want some food? I can make you an omelette." he started to get up.

I checked my watch, "It's almost ten Mike, Don't you have work tomorrow?"

He laughed, "Yeah and so do you." he turned on the kitchen light and I followed him in there, drawn by some kind of hunger.

I looked Mike up and down, considering the way his shoulders always seemed so broad, and everything fit him so well, "Are you really an actuary?"

He smiled, deep lines framing his mouth, "Yes Derrick, I'm really an actuary."

"For an accounting firm?"I said doubtfully.

He nodded as he rinsed a pan, "Yep."he said, popping the p.

"I thought you were a lumberjack or something. What do you need all that muscle for? Is crunching numbers a physical task?"

He snorted instead of replying, seeming almost giddy. His movements were easy as he cracked eggs and used my spice rack with a better fluency than I ever did.

"You seem..." I searched fleetingly for a word to describe Mike.

He looked up at me, making a point to look at my mouth, then to my eyes and back. "How is it that I seem, Derrick?"

I pushed out a shaky breath, "never mind."

"We can talk about it, I don't mind." he said quickly.

"But I do."

"You can't-" he paused to slice up pieces of bacon and ham as he folded them into the mixture, sprinkling some cheese, "You can't push everything you don't want to think about into a corner, Derrick."

"Maybe I can. Sometimes I feel like-" I took off my jacket to put it over a dining chair, feeling flushed suddenly, "I feel like I can't think around you. Like everything and nothing make any sense. You get close and I smell you, I feel you and all my reason goes out the window."

Mike frowned, as he flipped the omelette. He looked at me, something like pain in his eyes, "The only time you can kiss me is when all your reason goes out the window? Wow." The corners of his mouth were turned downwards as he placed the omelette onto a plate.

I stuttered, "Yes?"

He shook his head, "I don't know what to say."

Mike pulled out my chair for me and gestured for me to sit before plating my omelette and going to the fridge and taking out leftovers from something else he had made earlier in the week. He was noisy as he opened and closed containers, popping a plate into the microwave. A few minutes later he sat down in front of me, a plate of brown rice, vegetables, chicken and a bowl of salad beside him. Mike rolled up his sleeves and I was greeted to the sight of corded veins cascading up and down his arms. Fuck, that was kind of hot.

"It was just a spur of the moment thing." I rationalized, staring at Mike's arms and hands. "It didn't-"

"Don't say it didn't mean anything, Derrick. Don't speak for me." His voice was barely a whisper as he pushed things around on his plate, before chewing. He got up abruptly, pouring two glasses of water and bringing them to the table.

"Derrick," he said "The way I feel- It isn't some spur of the moment thing, okay? You think I ask you out all the time because I only want to be your friend? You think the way I look at you, the way I feel about you, the way I fucking act around you...Doesn't mean anything?"

I looked away from his heated eyes, "Mike- This is just kind of a lot." I rubbed the back of my neck, "I don't know."

"You never answered my question earlier, why does it matter what Cheryl does? Why does it bother you then?" his voice was hard and I didn't see how I could avoid answering.

"She was all over you." I said, throwing my hands up, feeling my mouth crease in annoyance.

"And, what about it?" he waited impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground.

"I didn't- I don't want her all over you. I don't want anyone all over you." I said in a rush, words tumbling and hurtling out, "You aren't hers, you're-" I stopped myself.

"Whose am I then?" Mike asked softly, voice suddenly intimate. "What is this really about Derrick?" When I took too long to reply he scraped his fork against his plate while gathering rice.

I chewed on my omeltte, enjoying it more than I should have, ignoring the noises of Mike's fork.

He made an impatient noise, looking at me again,"Are you worried about your sexuality? Is that what this is? You weren't concerned about things like that before. You never cared who you slept with." he was grumbling by this point.

I coughed, "Wow. I did not need to know that." I slurped on my water realizing something, "Fuck," I said. "Did we-?"

Mike had the decency to blush, taking the time to chew before answering, looking down at his plate. "No. Derrick. We didn't."

I breathed, "Thank God, that's something i wouldn't want to forget. I mean-"

"So, I don't understand. Do you not-"he looked away, half his face cast in shadow. "It's okay if you don't feel the same."

I ignored that, picking up our empty plates and washing them in the sink. Mike wiped down the table, and cleaned the cooking pan in the sink beside me. Our shoulders and arms brushed and I couldn't help but note the sparks of electricity trickling between us.

Mike started to pack up his things and head to the entryway. I tried to stifle my displeasure. "You're leaving?"

He sighed, "We both have work tomorrow."

At the doorway, I looked up at him suddenly struck with the urge to feel his lips against mine. Again. I wanted to kiss him again.

Mike raised his hand, carding his fingers through my hair. My hair had grown out in the two months and I was pleased to discover I had loose, riotous curls. Mike's hand swept past my jaw as he tilted my chin up. I closed my eyes, parting my lips and waiting for him to kiss me.

I opened my eyes seconds later, not having felt anything. His face was close to mine, lashes lowered and his expression almost shy, "I'm not initiating anything, Derrick." I could feel my face blooming red. "If you want me, then you can have me but I'm not going to come after you anymore." He leaned down, thumping his forehead lightly against mine, "I'll see you when I see you."

He stepped back, opening the door and looking at me before going out. I felt cold suddenly, no longer close to Mike's substantial body heat. I went out into the hallway, my bare feet sinking into the carpet, as I watched him walk away.

My mouth opened and I almost said 'don't go.' I wondered if he would have come back if I did say something. It seemed so easy to just say something. To tell him how I felt. That I was afraid to admit my feelings, even to myself. That I was afraid of so many things. But instead I stood there, twisting my hands together, feeling alone and missing Mike more than anything.

He waved before he walked into the elevator, blond head dissapearing as he walked through the doors. My hands fell limply to my sides and I went back into my apartment alone.