“Just surprised that’s all. Why didn’t you just text me?”

“Because I figured you would probably tell me you were studying.” I start rummaging around, opening drawers, until I find a bottle opener. Popping the caps off the beer, I hand her one as she nods, agreeing with my last statement, and I shoot her a wink before taking a sip.

“So, how was the rest of your day?” I ask as I move around her kitchen, grabbing plates and a few napkins.

“Good. I got a lot done actually,” she says as she watches me.

“Great, let’s eat then. Do you mind grabbing the beer?”

“No problem.”

Walking into her living room, we set everything down on the coffee table and make ourselves comfortable on the couch.

She opens the pizza box to grab a slice, and then turns to me, asking, “How did you know I like pineapple on my pizza?”

“I didn’t. Like I said, I got this for me before deciding to come over.”

“Oh.”

Leaning forward I take a slice and sit back to eat as I watch her do the same. The thought of being out with Gavin right now just doesn’t even compare to this—sitting here, with this girl I’m getting know. I’m enjoying it. It satisfies me in a way I never would have expected.

“So, you know what I did with my day. What about you?” she asks.

She told me this morning that she was spending the day studying then going to the studio to rehearse. “After our run, I went to the gym to do some lifting. Then later, I went to the bar to work. Had to sign off on a bunch of paperwork and inventory orders. That’s pretty much it,” I tell her.

Nodding her head, we continue to eat our dinner when I suggest, “Wanna watch something on TV?”

She picks up the remote and hands it to me. Flipping through the channels, I already know she’s a fan of MTV, so I decide to go for one of my channels. When I land on TCM and they’re playing one of my favorite movies, I set the remote down, get comfortable, and wait for it. Knowing she’s gonna tease me, I find myself already enjoying her reaction when she says, “What the heck is this?”

“You don’t know this movie?” I ask, mocking a serious tone, playing right into her.

“Does anyone know this movie?”

Smiling, I say, “Candace, it’s a classic.” Seeing the blank look on her face, I continue, “It’s ‘Double Indemnity’ from the 1940’s. It’s a great movie.”

“You watch a lot of these movies?”

Shaking my head, I tell her, “Sit back and just watch. You’ll like it.”

When she sits back with me, I start to explain the movie. “See that girl? Her name is Phyllis and that guy is an insurance agent that she is trying to seduce.”

“Why?”

“Because she wants him to murder her husband so she can collect the money from his policy.”

“Oooh, I like her already,” she playfully says, and gets me laughing.

“Just watch.”

Kicking our feet up on the coffee table, we lean back and watch the movie. After a while I feel her head drop onto my shoulder. Looking down, her eyes are closed. I don’t move for a while, scared of how she’ll react. After what happened in my car yesterday, I make sure she’s sound asleep before I slip my hand under her head and lower her onto my lap.

She curls up into a ball, and I take this moment to really look at her. Her skin is light and flawless. I gently run the back of my hand down her cheek and along her jaw. She’s soft. I knew she would be. My heart begins to beat faster at the subtle contact.

I sink down into the couch, getting comfortable, and observe the stark contrast of her dark, thick lashes as they fan across the tops of her cheekbones. Leaning my head back, I relax with finally having her close to me. The warmth of her against me is something I’ve been craving. Even though she isn’t giving this to me—I’m taking it right now—it appeases me for the time being, hoping that one day she’ll want to give this to me. That simple thought alone is enough for me to know that I’m falling hard for this girl, and that worries me, because I know better than to allow myself to feel like this. But with her, all my logic seems to dissipate.

I let her sleep for a while, but when I begin to grow tired myself, I know I need to wake her. She’s out cold when I lean over and whisper, “Candace.”

When I run my hand down her arm, she starts to stir. “Candace . . . Candace, wake up.”

Her eyes slowly flutter open and when she looks up at me, she locks them to mine. I can tell she isn’t fully awake as she continues to stare. Out of nowhere, she startles me when she lurches off of the couch, finally coherent and free from her haze.

“Are you okay?” I ask when I stand up, and as soon as I step towards her, she shoots her hands out, wanting me to stay away. She’s scared of me, and I hate that. Whatever it is she’s dealing with, whatever is causing her to react this way, I just want to comfort her, but there’s no way she’d let me if I tried.

“I’m sorry,” I say as calmly as I can, not wanting to freak her out any more than she is. “I didn’t want to leave you without you locking the door behind me. You fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you, so I let you sleep for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out.

“For what?”

Lowering her hands, she looks a little mortified when she explains, “Startling easily. I didn’t know I fell asleep. I’m just . . . I was just disoriented.”

“Candace,” I quietly say, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable with me. I step toward her, and when she doesn’t move away, I take my hand and brush aside a lock of her hair that’s fallen across her forehead. I feel her stiffen, and I quickly pull back.

“I’ll lock the door behind you,” she says.

“Let me help you clean this up.”

She looks at the mess and tells me, “I’ll do it. It’s all trash anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She follows me as I walk to the door. Before I leave, I turn back and she’s right next to me. She has to tilt her head to look up at me, and when I see her from this angle, she looks so fragile. When her eyes shift up to meet mine, I softly tell her, in all seriousness, “I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

I notice her shallow breaths when she whispers, “I know.”

“Okay. So, we’ll talk later?”

When she softens her face and says, “Yeah,” I feel better about leaving.

When I pull into the parking lot of the gym, I spot Jase’s 4Runner already here. He got back in town a couple days ago, and the three of them have been busy with school as the quarter is coming to an end, so the two of us arranged to get together to do some lifting.

“Jase, hey,” I say as I walk in and see him mixing his Gatorade.

“Hey, man,” he says as he turns around. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

We head over to the free weights and pick up our dumbbells to start our bicep workout.

“So, how was Ohio?” I ask him, knowing it was the first time he met Mark’s family.

“Better than I anticipated. Never had to meet parents in the past, so I was uneasy going there.”

Jase told me that before Mark, he was a lot like me. Random hook-ups. But he seems to really love Mark, so I’m glad everything is working out for them.

“His family cool?”

“His sisters are a little wild,” he laughs. “But yeah, his parents are great. Much different than mine.”

“How so?” I question.

Taking his weights over to the bench, he sits down and says, “I’m pretty nonexistent to them. And when I told them I was gay . . . they were done.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Before Mark came along, all I really had was Candace. She’s been my family since I moved here.”

“You guys seem really tight,” I respond as I set down the dumbbells and start racking the weights on a barbell to do some bench presses.

“We’ve always been that way,” he tells me, walking over to spot.