Knickers

So Many Hickeys

Maya sends me off to the theater with a big hug and kiss on the cheek and one hell of a pep talk.
This particular AMC, the one on Sunset, serves alcohol, so they ID me at the front and direct me to the bar afterward. I sit alone with a glass of whiskey, poking at the ice with a straw and desperately trying to calm myself.
When Dom comes in my heart rate spikes and I'm half a step away from hyperventilating. The smile he offers me is tight and forced, and it hurts to receive it.
He sits beside me at the bar, saying nothing for a long time. He still wears the bruise beneath his eye, faded with time.
The anticipation just about swallows me whole. I have to break the silence.
"What movie should we see?" I ask him.
"I never wanted to watch a movie," he says softly. "I wanted to talk."
I force back the raging anxiety with a few sips of alcohol. "Well, you said you wanted to see a movie."
"I can't sit still now, Marley. I'm anxious. I'm worried. I'm hurt." He fiddles with the strings on his hoodie, tying them over and over into knots. "You looked really upset the other day."
His tone makes me want to burst into tears and fall into his lap and beg forgiveness and an explanation.
"I'm sorry I barged in," I tell him, tension lacing my voice. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"You didn't," he says. "I should have locked the door, at least."
I drink down the rest of the booze, struggling for confidence. "No, it was my fault."
"Why'd you leave?" he asks. "You've been quiet since it happened. Have I done something wrong?"
"Of course not," I say. "I've just been dealing with some stuff."
"Talk to me. Please."
"I can't."
"Cause I've been thinking," he says, pulling harder on the strings. "I didn't know her, y'know."
"I figured."
"When I kissed you the night before, it wasn't because I expected it to be a public bathroom hookup. You're not a stranger, Marley."
"So why'd you do it?" I ask, contemplating another drink. "Kiss me, I mean."
I'm not sure if I'm ready for the answer.
He draws a deep breath. "I don't know, but I'm glad you stopped me." He takes my hand, squeezing my knuckles one by one between the pads of his fingers. "You do mean a lot to me. A ton. Tell me you believe me."
I force a smile. "I believe you."
And now, I have my closure. Of course sleeping together would have been a mistake. Of course he's glad I stopped him.
Why risk it? Why not stay strictly platonic?
My stomach twists at the loud, indigent thrashing in my chest.
You're in love with him, you idiot, that's why.
In my mind I have thrown myself into his arms, I have kissed him long and hard and told him in perfect eloquence how much I love him, how many dreams of mine he has occupied, the thoughts of him that consume my focus.
I've fallen down the rabbit hole again, into his green eyes, into his voice and his accent and his smell.
I can't imagine going along like normal after he's proved how easily he can break me, without even trying. How did he steal away my balance without my knowledge?
"I'm sorry," I tell him, rising, slapping a bill down on the bar to pay for my drink. "I'm sorry, Dom, I can't."
His eyes widen in alarm. "What d'you mean?"
"I just can't," I say, starting for the door, shaking his hand loose from mine. "I can't be friends. I can't explain. I'm sorry."
"What?" he asks, trailing close behind me, following me out the door and down the stairs to the parking lot.
"Please go," I tell him, feeling more tears glaze my eyes, glossing my vision and dripping onto my cheeks. "Please don't call. Don't text. I'm so sorry."
I turn my back to him, pausing to call an Uber, but before I can confirm it he steals my phone and pockets it.
"What did I do?" he asks. "Please, just tell me. What did I do to upset you?"
"Nothing," I say, turning away again, but he catches both my shoulders and holds me in place.
"Tell me what hurts," he says. "Let me apologize, try to fix it. Don't ask me to leave now."
"I can't be what you want," I tell him. "I can't see you without my mind running loose. It's too hard, pretending this is just like any other friendship I've had. It's too close."
His hands drop off my shoulders immediately. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'll stop with all the touching. We don't have to be like that if you don't want to be. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," I demand, smearing tears away. "It's not you. You're perfect. It's my problem."
"What's your problem?"
"You did nothing. You were wonderful from the beginning. I took it too far, I misunderstood your affections, took them as more than they were. That's my problem."
His voice softens even further. "Marley—"
"Don't say my name like that."
"Help me understand."
"I can't. I'm not your responsibility. I have to go. Phone. Please."
Reluctantly, he slides my phone from his pocket and hands it to me, gripping it for a moment longer.
"Please stay," he says.
"I can't," I say, making my way farther from the movie theater, speed walking into the parking lot and struggling to see my screen through the tears.
He continues to follow me, staying close as we pass his car. "What do you mean, you misunderstood my affections? Please tell me."
"I can't."
"Marley, please."
"I just can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I fucking can't, Dom."
He hurries to overtake me, stopping before me and halting me in my tracks. "Why the hell not?"
"Maybe because it's not fucking fair to you," I snap at him, failing to keep my voice low. "Maybe if I told you how hard I've fallen for you, it would become your biggest burden. I wanted to spare you that."
The tension in his face melts away. "Sorry?"
"Nothing," I say, going around him and continuing toward the street. "Forget I opened my stupid mouth."
He doesn't follow me this time. The parking lot is silenced from his stillness, and in the quiet I can hear his voice from behind.
"Please come back."
The request comes out so silky and vulnerable that my stride breaks completely. I turn to look at him over my shoulder, framed by his car behind him, his arms outstretched, beckoning me back.
The sight of it infuriates me.
"I don't want your goddamn pity," I snap, stomping partway back toward him. "I knew I shouldn't have fucking said anything. I knew you'd react this way."
"Marley."
"You've made it clear that you're glad we were never anything beyond friendly. I fucking knew that, and I still opened my mouth."
He takes both my hands, pulling me closer amidst my rant. "Marley."
"Fucking what, Dom?"
"Do you want to kiss me?"
"Every second of every goddamn day," I retort, "but the thought of you returning it out of pity, to placate me, is revolting."
He quirks a small smile. "Alright. Understood."
Then he cups my cheeks and leans in to kiss me.
I grimace and pull away after the initial moment of bliss passes. "I said I don't want your pity."
"Marley, you idiot," he whispers, nuzzling our noses together. "I'm so in love with you."
And he kisses me again, holding me tenderly by the jaw, pressing his warm body to mine.
I allow myself to be claimed by the moment, the blurry confusion, the wandering hands. He sighs a hot breath that sweeps over my cheeks and neck. His tongue grazes my lips and teeth. His hands slide up the back of my shirt, pressing against my bare skin.
"Is this a dream?" I ask him, breaking away.
He shakes his head breathlessly, tucking away my hair that the wind blows out of place. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Fear. Insecurity. Stupidity." I tug his hood down so I can run my hands properly along his scalp. "Pick one."
He kisses me again, lifting me and twirling me as he does. We creep backwards, remaining intertwined, until we bump against the door of his car, pausing to unlock it and crawl inside.
"I've been a disaster," I admit, tracing his eyebrows with my fingernail. "Trying to figure out how to deal with myself."
"Yeah. Me, too," he says, pulling me into his lap.
"Well, you found your distraction in a handicap stall," I remind him.
"Right," he says, with a huff of resolve.
"Why?"
"Cause of the night prior. I thought you'd told me off. Saying how much I meant to you— I assumed that was you trying to spare my feelings."
"I tried to tell you then," I confess. "I couldn't find the words."
"I resolved to be friends cause I thought it was what you wanted." He pauses to bite his lip. "Meanwhile I wanted you so badly I could barely breathe."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I tried," he says, giving both my hips a gentle squeeze. "I thought maybe you'd see through me somehow, but you didn't."
"Yeah, we're both stupid," I agree quietly, leaning to kiss him again.
He reacts instantly, clasping both hands around the small of my back and pressing us together. I adjust to straddle him, gripping the bottom of his sweater and tugging it partway up. He lifts his arms and helps me remove it, and I discover him shirtless beneath.
"Wow," I breathe, coasting my hands down his chest and abdomen.
"I'm blushing," he returns, cupping a hand around the back of my neck and pulling us together once more.
He shuffles beneath me, keeping us close as he twists and lays back against the seats, pinned down between my knees.
He invites me down with him, beckoning to me with a swipe of his tongue over his lips. I have to restrain the urge to dive at him, to rip the rest of his clothes off and beg for relief.
My wandering hand makes him shudder beneath me, gripping impatiently at my hips and thighs with firm fingers.
His kiss grows hotter, his breathing more ragged, and I wonder how soon my self-control will falter.
I hook my fingers into the front of his pants, grabbing his waistline, and catch his lower lip between my teeth. His eyes are on fire, his fingertips pressing so hard into my skin that it almost aches.
Then, a tense exhale, followed by a timid smile.
"I can't help but think that this should be done right," he says, laying his hand over mine. "Y'know?"
My grip loosens on his pants. "Like how?"
"Like somewhere private, and on a bed or summat."
"Wow," I say, dipping down to nip at the side of his neck. "Spoken like a true modern gentleman."
He tilts his chin up to grant me better access to his throat. "What can I say? I believe in chivalry."
God, I want to give him so many hickeys.
I start on one, making a small pink mark and darkening it gradually, but he stifles his noises and pulls me away by my cheeks.
"Knock it off, I'm already tempted," he says, laying a soft kiss on my lips. "Can I take you out or summat?"
"If you let me buy you a milkshake," I say. "I probably owe you a hundred for all the drama I've caused."
"Nah," he says. "It's my turn. It'll be like a proper date."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow sounds good."