For Now

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I’m making eggs and toast. I can do it, I promise. Just sit and drink your coffee and wake up.” I grab a spatula and brandish it at him so he won’t jump up and start helping me. I can cook some eggs and make some toast. I mean, I can now that Javi taught me how.

  He’s pressing his lips together like he really wants to comment on my egg-making abilities, but I just glare at him.

  “Not one word. I can do this.” He nods and keeps his mouth shut the whole time I scramble the eggs with just a little bit of milk and pour them in the pan with the butter and then add salt and pepper and work them around so they cook, but not so much they get stiff.

  “See?” I say when the eggs are done. He gets up and pulls some plates down and I spoon out some of the eggs and two pieces of toast on his plate. Javi always eats his eggs with hot sauce, so it’s already on the table and waiting for him.

  I have my eggs with ketchup and plenty of salt. Javi takes a bite and nods in appreciation.

  “Good.”

  “Told you I could do it.” I take a bite myself and they are good. Not as good as when Javi makes them, though. He’s just got the magic touch when it comes to food. I could make the exact same thing with the exact same ingredients and it still wouldn’t taste the same as when he makes it.

  “I have full faith in your cooking abilities,” he says, but it looks like it almost physically hurts him to admit that.

  “You’re such a liar. But it’s okay. I like you anyway.” We smile at each other over our steaming plates of eggs and there’s a moment. One of those moments where time slows down and you feel so happy that it expands in your chest and you’re afraid you might explode or die from it.

  I break the moment by looking down at my plate. Sometimes being with Javi is too much.

  “So, what are you up to today?” It’s a stupid question and I hate the way it comes out of my mouth.

  “Well, homework and then I thought maybe we could go do something fun. I mean, something that doesn’t require a condom.” I nearly choke on my eggs.

  “You mean like a date?” I ask.

  He does the one shoulder shrug.

  “Sure, if you want to call it that. But since we aren’t technically dating, it wouldn’t be a date. Just two people going to the same place together at the same time.” It sounds so much less romantic like that.

  “Oh. Well, what did you have in mind?”

  “Not sure. I was hoping to get your input. I’m not really used to taking girls out during the day.” I roll my eyes, but it’s true. Javi isn’t the date guy. He isn’t the one who would take you to the fair and hold your hand and buy you cotton candy. He’s the guy you bring home from the bar, have sex with and never call again. Not me, obviously, but he might have been if I hadn’t gotten to know him first.

  “Um, I’m not sure,” I say. I too have not been on an actual day date in forever. What do people even do on day dates? I don’t want to go bowling or do anything athletic. And I sure as hell don’t want to participate in any sort of collegiate activities like a game or something.

  “Think about it and let me know.”

  “Will do.” We finish our eggs and do the dishes together and then hit the books.

  “How much do you have?” he asks. I glance at the clock on the DVD player.

  “Enough to work through lunch.” I have a research paper due next week that is going to require a lot of sources that I still need to find, both online and from books.

  “Good, me too.”

  And that’s the end of the talking for the next several hours. Both of us are engrossed with our work. It’s a lot easier now to work with Javi than it was the first time. He’s much less distracting now that I know I can have sex with him after all my work is done. Reward system, you know?

  When I finally get all my sources and finish my reading for my other classes, I close my books and stretch.

  “You done?” Javi asks. Clearly, he’s still got stuff to do.

  “Yeah, but if you still need to work, that’s fine. I can go in my room or something.” He shakes his head.

  “No, it’s fine. Do whatever you want. I can focus through a hurricane.” I smile slowly.

  “That sounds like a challenge.” He looks up from his books.

  “Hazel.”

  “What?” I say innocently. “You were the one who brought it up.”

  He narrows his eyes.

  “Fine, fine. But you’re cool if I watch TV?” He nods once and goes back to his reading. I turn on the TV and start flipping through the channels, looking for something that isn’t crap. It’s not easy.

  I like reality TV as much as the next person, but this new trend of reality shows where people are doing stupid things while naked has got to stop. Besides, they blur everything out, so what’s the point?

  I finally settle on a marathon of Gilmore Girls. You can’t go wrong with that show, even though they talk so fast and there’s no way someone would be that witty and have comebacks all the time. I’ve had a crush on Luke, the guy who owns the diner since I was a teenager.

  I chuckle at some of my favorite bits, but Javi doesn’t look up. Not even when two of the characters have a screaming fight as they are wont to do when things get tense.

  He really does have intense concentration.

  It’s totally mean, but I decide to test him. I yawn and stretch my arms up high, letting my shirt ride up and show my stomach. Nothing. No reaction.

  So then I stand up and start twisting from side to side, like I’m working a kink out of my back. Nada. It’s time for drastic measures.

  I thrust my chest out and stretch back until my spine pops. I glance down at Javi and he’s still reading his books.

  Then I just take my shirt off. I’m not wearing a bra, so I’m completely topless.

  His eyes are still scanning across the page just as fast as before.

  I take my pants off so I’m just in my panties and stand right in front of him.

  “You’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?” he says, his head tilted down as he turns the page of his book.

  “I am practically naked here and you won’t even look up. Okay, you win. I was just about to start getting myself off to see if you’d get distracted by that.”

  “What?” he says, looking up.

  “Ha!” I clap my hands once in triumph. “Made you look.”

  “Oh, you are naked,” he says, looking me up and down. “I could tell you were doing something, but I was doing my best to ignore it. Now I can’t.” He puts his books aside and gets up.

  “You have an incredible body, Haze.” His hands skim my sides. Every time he touches me, it turns me on. It doesn’t matter if it’s a quick touch, just to pass me a cup of coffee or hand me something. Everything he does makes me want him.

  “You wanna go back to studying?” I say, stepping closer as his hands become more adventurous.

  “I really should. But I suppose it can wait for a little while.”

  “A little while? You planning on being a two pump chump?” He bursts out laughing.

  “Gorgeous, I’m never a two pump chump. Let me show you.” He leads me to the bedroom and shows me that yes, he can go the distance. Twice.

  Later, we go back out to the living room and lie on the couch together. He’s just wearing his boxers and I have his shirt on. I can tell he likes it when I wear his shirt and nothing else. I like it too.

  “So, this woman is her mother? She doesn’t look old enough to have a teen daughter,” Javi says, commenting on the Gilmore Girls marathon. I’m surprised he’s actually watching it.

  “She had Rory when she was sixteen.”

  “Oh, got it. What’s with the guy and the baseball cap?” He points at the screen.

  “That’s Luke. He owns the diner and he’s in love with Lorelai but he doesn’t know it yet.”

  “Ah! Spoiler alert. Now you’ve totally ruined the show for me. Thanks a lot.” He pretends to be mad, but I just poke him in the
stomach.

  “You’ll get over it. Besides, their first kiss doesn’t happen for two more seasons. They drew it out, the bastards.”

  “Those bastards,” Javi says, shaking his fist at the screen.

  “Don’t make fun of me, I love this show.”

  He kisses my forehead.

  “I’m not making fun. Not at all.”

  I sit up, realizing something.

  “Hey, weren’t we supposed to go out on a date, or something?” I completely forgot about it. Sex can make you forget about just about everything.

  “Right. Do you still want to go?” He starts to get up, but I put my hand on his chest to stop him.

  “Honestly? No. I’m cool with just this and then ordering something and getting it delivered. Then only one of us has to get dressed.”

  Javi hugs me tight.

  “I love the way your mind works, Hazel. Gilmore Girls and takeout it is.”

  I hesitate that night before I go to work. Javi says he’s going to finish the homework I interrupted today, and I’m totally okay with that. But part of me wants to ask him to come to work with me.

  A larger part screams that asking him to come is ridiculous and needy and unnecessary. So I don’t ask him.

  Tonight is much better than last night, thank God. The customers seem to be more polite and they’re much better tippers. I even have a nice conversation with a guy who’s just passing through and needs a beer before he’s on his way. I love talking to strangers (nice, interesting strangers), which is probably one of the reasons I enjoy working at the bar. At least on most nights.

  I’m in a much better mood when I come back to the apartment and I don’t freak when I find Javi waiting for me in the living room, with only the glow of the TV as a light.

  “What are you watching?” I ask as I pull off my shoes and drop my bag on the floor. I see the screen and hear the voices and stare at Javi in shock.

  “You’re still watching Gilmore Girls? How many hours has it been?” I sit next to him on the couch and he gives me a kiss hello.

  “This is all your fault. When they say marathon, they mean it. It’s all Gilmores all the time for two weeks.” It’s sad how I don’t even need to see the title of the episode to know what’s going to happen.

  “So you like it? I mean, most people don’t spend hours watching a show that they hate.”

  “I don’t know what happened. I was watching it with you and the next thing I know I’m screaming at the screen for Luke and Lorelai to kiss.” He looks a little bewildered. And tired.

  “You’ve been Gilmored. It’s okay, it happens to the best of us. How about you join me in the shower and we can talk about Luke and Lorelai and why Dean was a terrible boyfriend for Rory.” He just nods and I lead him into the bathroom. He’s still mumbling about Gilmore Girls when I shove him into bed.

  I just laugh and turn out the light.

  Despite not being a couple, Javi and I settle into a sort of routine. He stays nights with me, but we drive separately to classes during the day. He understands my need to be independent.

  Sometimes I get back from class and he’s still at his place, but he always shows up for dinner which we share with Shannon and Jett most nights and then there’s sex and sleeping.

  The sex is more than awesome and the new bed gets quite a workout, but it’s the other things I really like. I adore knowing that someone will be there during dinner to talk to about my day, other than Shannon. I adore waking up in the middle of the night and hearing someone else sleeping in the same room.

  I had no idea how lonely I was before Javi started coming over. Sure, I told myself I didn’t need the strings and complications of a relationship and I didn’t want anyone in my personal space all the time.

  But now that I’m doing this thing with Javi, it’s all I want. I want him here, all the time, with me.

  I want to go to sleep with him and wake up and eat breakfast with him. I want him to wait for me in his truck and pick me up after classes. I want him to hold my hand and shop for groceries and all that domestic crap. I want the things with him I told myself I never, ever, wanted and now they’re all I can think about.

  I want to share my life with him. All of it. Every moment. I mean, I still don’t know how I feel about marriage, but I could imagine being married to Javi.

  It wouldn’t be a typical marriage, that’s for damn sure.

  “Taste,” Javi says one night when he’s making some sort of complicated sauce that I’m pretty sure he stole from the Julia Child cookbook. I caught him reading it the other day and I’ve been joking about him starting a blog and testing all the recipes. He thought it was funny the first three times I mentioned it. Now, not so much.

  He blows on the sauce in the spoon and then lifts it to my mouth. I sip a little and I nearly fall over.

  “I have no idea what that is, but I want you to make enough so I can fill the bathtub and go swimming in it.”

  “I’ll take that as a ringing endorsement,” he says, licking the rest of the sauce off the spoon and then washing it in the sink. For someone who’s pretty messy, Javi is a neat freak when he cooks. It doesn’t make any sense.

  I’ve noticed he’s much less of a slob at my place than he is at his. Feeling guilty that he always has to come over here, I’ve agreed to go over to his place for a few hours at a time. It’s much better now that Shannon has been staying there. The weird smell that I suspect was mold is gone, and they finally got rid of the nasty, nasty couch and got something better.

  “What’s cookin’?” Jett says as he walks in the door.

  “Coq au vin,” Javi says and I snort with laughter.

  “What? You said cock. I can’t help it if that word always makes me laugh.” Javi glares at me. He always gets super serious when he cooks and doesn’t appreciate my jokes as much. Kind of kills the fun.

  “No, I said coq. As in the French word for chicken. Chicken with a wine sauce. That’s what we’re having. With mushrooms and potatoes and Shannon’s going to make a salad and then we’ve got ice cream for dessert. I wanted to make Boeuf Bourguignon, but it takes more than an hour to cook, so I went with something that’s quicker.” I gotta say, hearing Javi pronounce the French words definitely turns me on. He has an excellent accent.

  “Have you ever studied French?” I ask, putting my hand on his shoulder and leaning into him.

  “A little. And some Spanish and Italian and Greek.”

  “In your spare time?” Javi is so much smarter than I ever knew. I have no idea why he hides it. Or, that’s not really it. I guess he’s just not as open about it as I would expect him to be. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I like him so much. He doesn’t throw his intelligence in other people’s faces.

  “I had a lot more time before you came along,” he says.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “What did you do with your time?” he asks. Studied more. Worked more hours at the bar. Definitely watched more television. Nothing super important. Javi hasn’t taken up any time I wasn’t willing to give him.

  “Not much. I’d rather hang out with you.”

  Jett goes to the fridge and pulls out a soda and starts asking Javi about something.

  Shannon comes in.

  “Sorry! Sorry. I got tied up at work.” Jett gives her a kiss and she heads to her bedroom to get her work clothes off. Even though she works in the Operations department of the bank, she still has to dress nicely. And she likes it anyway. One of the reasons she wants to work in a big shiny office building is so she can wear sexy pumps and suits and pencil skirts every day. I can’t say anything, because I’m going to be wearing similar outfits as a lawyer.

  I still don’t know what Javi wants to be. He and I don’t talk about that kind of thing. We don’t talk about the future further than the next week. There’s something freeing in that, but it’s stressful, too. Now that I’m in this, I want to know how long it’s going to last. Is Javi going to get tired of me? We haven’t even had
a huge fight yet, so I don’t know if the first one is going to trigger the end of being together-ish.

  I’m one giant ball of confusion.

  Javi has another one of his sullen days the next week. It’s like he just shuts down and won’t respond to anything I say or do. I might as well be talking to a wall.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I finally say as we’re lying in bed. I’ve been trying to seduce him, but it isn’t working.

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit, Javier. You’re being weird and sullen and if you’re going to be weird and sullen with me, I’d like to know why and then you can go back to being weird and sullen and I’ll just read a book.” I turn on my side and glare at him. He’s on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

  “You’re not my girlfriend. You don’t have to listen to me bitch about my feelings.” True, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.

  “Cut it out. You’re in my house and you’re being a jerk. If you don’t want to be here, then go home. Or tell me what it is. Get it off your chest so it will stop annoying both of us.” My voice is getting louder and I’m getting more frustrated and I’m really glad Jett and Shannon are staying at his place so I can yell as loud as I want. The downstairs neighbors are drug dealers so they wouldn’t call the cops on us even if the apartment was on fire.

  “Fine, I’ll leave.” He starts to get out of bed, but I grab his arm and dig my nails in.

  “You don’t just get to run away. You don’t get to do that. We might not be dating, but this is some sort of relationship.” He jerks his arm out of my grasp.

  “It’s not your problem, Hazel. You don’t have to fucking fix me. I’m not broken and I’m not your boyfriend and this is none of your business.” This time when he tries to leave, I let him.

  He doesn’t want me tonight, and it’s probably best to let him go. I’m not going to do battle with him.

  “Fine. Leave.” He looks back at me as he puts his clothes on and packs up his bag. There’s a flash of something like pain across his face and then his features go blank as he walks out the door and slams it.