Aimee stands in the doorframe looking back and forth between the Caddyshack DVD in my hands and my face.
I try pretending like I don’t notice the redness around her eyes or the fact that she’s in just a pair of very short shorts and a sports bra and that her hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail and I can see her face like I’ve never seen it before, but it’s no use. I notice all of it and before either of us can stop me, I’ve got her folded up in my arms and I’m talking low into her hair.
Aimee’s arms curl in and her head presses against my chest. I can feel her heartbeat thundering under her bare skin and I wonder if I’m going to be able to keep all of the pieces of her inside.
Aimee
Regret. When it happens, and I mean really happens to you, it’s like discovering a new sound.
I tried to explain this to my therapist when I first moved to Portland last year. Aimee, what if, she asked, you decided to let go?
And I wondered if she’d been listening to me at all.
Because all I do is let go.
CHAPTER NINE
Cole
Maybe I’m officially crazy. That’s what Adam tells me, and some days I think he’s right. Maybe crazy is exactly what it takes to cut off your balls and hand them over to a girl.
Difficult. Damaged. Closed-off. If I were making a list of qualities to avoid in a girl, Aimee would probably match up with every single one of them. But I’m still here, working my ass off for every single smile. And I want to be here. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my whole life.
She tells me everything and nothing all at once and I take what I can get because somewhere along the way that became okay. Look but don’t touch. That’s the deal with us and it doesn’t matter if I want more because I’m not going to touch her until she makes it clear that it’s what she wants. And that’s not a game. It’s a promise. No more strategy. No more pushing. No more bullshit.
Just her and me. Me and her.
Her. One word. A simple pronoun that seems like an entire vocabulary.
Aimee
“So, I’ve been thinking about tattoos.”
I look up from my laptop as Jodi falls into the chair on the opposite side of the study carrel. A huge grin has swallowed up her face.
“I’m almost afraid to ask but… what, exactly, are you thinking about tattoos?”
Impossibly, her smile gets wider. “Do you remember that girl Alexis?” Jodi asks. “I think you met her last week. Big boobs,” she mimes this with her hands, “and short blonde hair.”
I try to think back. For someone who doesn’t seem to have many friends, Jodi certainly knows a lot of people. Last Tuesday I think she introduced me to two Kevins and at least four girls that she told me with a sideways glance, were total skanks.
“I—um…” I’m pulling a blank.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s a total skank.” Jodi says and one side of my mouth turns up in response. “What matters,” she goes on, “is that last night I was grabbing a Frappuccino and I ran into Alexis and the guy that she’s currently fucking. We got to talking and he informed me that his cousin works at that tattoo place downtown and that they were going there to take him a coffee. One thing led to another, and somehow I wound up tagging along.”
“Somehow?”
Jodi ignores me and continues her story. “So there I was, browsing through the artwork, and I get this feeling. Like I just knew that something was about to happen.”
“The sight?”
“Right. So I looked up and there was this drop-your-panties-right-this-minute, gorgeous guy looking at me. I could barely breathe because my mind was trying to wrap itself around his insane body and he walked right up to me in all of his tattooed, raven-haired, sex-on-a-stick glory and asked me out. No pretenses—just told me that he was into me and wanted to take me out sometime. Aimee, I swear that he got my ovaries quaking before I even found out that his name is Kyle.”
I feel my forehead crinkle. Two days ago she told me that the ex-boyfriend, Jason, gave her the most earth-shattering orgasm of her life. “Um. What about Jason?”
Her right eyebrow quirks up. “Jason who?”
“You’re terrible.” I shake my head, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. “For a second when you said that you were thinking about tattoos, I thought you were going to tell me that you wanted to get one.”
Jodi’s head tilts to one side. A chunk of blue hair falls into her eyes. “Oh, I do. Ever since last night…” She says it like it’s been twelve years, not twelve hours. “I’ve been seeing myself with a really cool design from here to here.” She indicates almost her entire upper back from shoulder blade to shoulder blade.