"Eat. Now," she says, looking down at my plate. I'm in no position to start arguing back as I keep shovelling food in my mouth. God bless food. I'm ignoring the shouting, since I've got more important shit to worry about, but it doesn't take long before Sera directs them to the balcony. All I can do is stare down at my almost-empty plate and wonder how I didn't really taste anything or enjoy a bit of it. That's what survival does to you – takes the joy out of everything.
"Would you eat, please? Hunter?"
I'm still staring down at my plate, wondering how this is all going to play out. She's always going to need to take care of me and that's not fucking fair. I'm twenty-eight years old. I've been dealing with this disease for ten years – alone – and with a kid who's got the very same thing as me. Life isn't easy and it isn't fun. It's a struggle every fucking day, and while I don't want Sera to be part of that, I need her there, to make my life seem better like a junkie needs his next fix.
How am I going to prove to her that I'm better than this?
"Eat first, and then you can cuss me out, if you want. Right now, I really need you to eat. Please," she begs, while I'm still staring down at my plate, not saying anything. If I'm thinking so much, means the juice is kicking in. Thanks, Big Guy. Add my IOU to the tab.
I stuff my face, ignoring manners and decorum and there's probably going to be stains on my shirt but I don't give a fuck. I don't even realize Josh has come back inside until the couch dips and Sera's sucked into my side and the fit is just right.
"I'm sorry, man," Josh says, looking at both me and Sera. My cheeks are chipmunk full but I keep chewing and give him a nod.
"Fucking Tommy's a dick on normal days, he saves the side of egocentric asshole for when we have company." The guy stares into his beer. It could be the lack of sugar, but he could be honest. Maybe. "Is there anything you guys need in here?"
"Nah. We're good, buddy, thanks. Actually, Josh? Do you mind giving us another fifteen minutes? I...I don't think I want to talk to anybody just yet."
I watch Josh nod at Sera and kiss her on the cheek. Why the fuck does everybody keep doing that? And why the fuck can't I?
"Feeling better?" she asks, once we're alone again.
I lean back into the couch, letting all the food hit my stomach and let out a heavy breath. Everything feels heavy, my limbs, my eyelids, even the hair on my arms. I'm nothing more than a weighted anchor drowning in a shallow sea.
Now you're getting poetic. Shut up, and answer her. Truthfully.
I look at her, still chewing on the meat, tearing at the piece I've got in my hands like I'm a lion and it's a zebra. She needs to know what just happened.
"I couldn't tell him to shut his fucking mouth. That's me as your friend, Sera. I can't even tell a guy who's saying inappropriate things to shut the fuck up or I'll beat his face in. Because I can't do that, not when my sugars are low, or high. I'm only okay seventy percent of the time." Here it comes. "Do you really want that as a friend?"
Sera's face is tight, like she's royally pissed with my ass. I'm handing her an out-clause and she's basically going to throw it back in my face. Hallelujah.
"You're pissing me off. One fraking second, you're all like, ‘yeah baby, give me that mouth' and now you don't even want to be my friend? Stop being an asshole, MacLaine! Decide what you fraking want, and stop playing goddamn games!"
Games? Games?! I'm the one playing games? She doesn't even want my mouth on her, practically running through a wall to get out of my apartment, but no, she loves the kid, and I'm not as important. That sounded stupid.
"I'm trying to take it slow – for you. I'm beating myself up every fucking day – for you, because you deserve better, because you deserve more than half a man. But I'm too damn selfish." Fucking shit, I am. "I want those nerdy shirts, to see you put them on every morning. I want you there every single night, reading Matty to sleep, waiting for you to crawl into bed with me. I want your voice in my apartment, I want your geeky posters on my wall, and your body in my bed. Is that real enough for you?"
Shit. Her face has gone white-on-white and her eyes are big behind the lenses of her glasses. She chews her bottom lip, making me stare at her mouth. I don't know if it's a calculated move or not. Sera's practically trembling, and her breath has shortened like she's run up the stairs.
"Super real," she croaks out, clearing her throat after the fact. "I'd be lying if I said those weren't words I wanted to hear."
She's going to make me smile when I want to be serious. Don't do it, you'll lose the battle. "I've wanted to say them for a while. You just need to know what you're getting into with me."
"I'm having a thought here, Barbossa."
What?
Sera rolls her eyes at the ceiling and sighs. When she looks back at me, she says, "Pirates of the Caribbean again. I really need you to watch that movie. I'm making jokes to the walls, over here" She smiles with only a hint of teeth, and lays a hand on my cheek, gentling me. My heart's beating hard and fast, and it has nothing to do with my sugar low.
Then she takes every crack in the walls I've built to keep myself strong so I can be there for Matty, and blows them to fucking pieces.
"I think you're amazing," she tells me, and I know she's lying.
"Really, I do. You're sweet and kind. You don't understand my nerdy jokes, but you care enough to look them up after. You're the only one who likes my nerdy shirts. You're strong, and brave. So, yeah, I think you're amazing. And no matter what you say or do – nothing will make me change my mind from that."
Man up, keep it locked, motherfucker. Keep it locked. I move my face so I can graze my lips on the tender flesh of her palm and have to steel myself to ask my next question. She can still shoot me down.
"So you still want to be my friend?"
"I..."
I'm going to pass out if she doesn't say something soon.
"I think I want to be more than your friend."
Just like that, I'm flying higher than Superman, and I'm pretty sure I can take Batman on, even with his fancy ass ninja suit.
Bring it on, Brucey.
She wants me. I want her. Can we leave now? Or does she need to settle a score with Tommy? Hell, I need to settle a score with him – no one talks to my girl like that.
I can't look away from her mouth, her face, her tits, her arms, her throat, back to her mouth then to her eyes. I want her.
Take it slow. Don't spook her. Slow. Tortoise slow – that guy wins the race.
I want to kiss her badly. I want her tongue in my mouth, I want to smell her skin because I'm so close, I need to feel her entire body against mine.
Her eyes are big and her mouth's open like she's waiting for me to plant one on her. I should just do it, take what she's offering. I back off when I see she's shaking, when I see her eyes moving too fast, and the rest of her body says she's unsure.
Maybe she's not unsure about me, but something else. I just had a sugar low and I'm too tired to sit here and try to figure it out. Oh, but I will. This is going to happen.
My dick has started throbbing at the prospect of getting her in my bed and I'm thankful the plate's still on my thighs.
Time for some covert rearranging. Mission is a go.
"Thank you for my plate," I say, loving that her hand is still on my face. Maybe she forgot it there, maybe she won't let me go. I can definitely show her where I need to be touched the most. Ease it up, dickweed. Calm it down.
"I'm going to need a few minutes alone, baby. Do you mind hanging with your friends for fifteen minutes?" I need a bathroom, and I mean yesterday.
"Sure. I can do that."
I kiss her palm and watch her reaction.
Her cheeks bloom with a gorgeous blush and she inhales fast, like I've shocked. "Call me if you need anything else."
There it is. Sera's just not a lay. She's the one you keep around for as long as you can before you go screwing shit up.
I watch her move slowly to the patio door and hit the terrace outside. She closes the door behind her without looking at me. If she did, I'd be in the bathroom with her right now getting my first real taste of her.
Fuck. Dead puppies! Maggots, motherfucker, maggots!
I toss my plastic plate into the garbage along with my cutlery. My dick's being strangled by my jeans and the ache is only going to get worse. Maybe having a one-on-one talk with Little Me is going to make it listen. How the fuck do I get the blood back up to my head?
Now I'm thinking of Sera's mouth wrapped around the head. Shit.
In the bathroom, I look at my reflection.
"You have to stop. Cut it out." If dicks could whine, mine could win an award. "Maggots. Dead rat carcasses infested with maggots. Maggots in my food, maggots in my house, maggots on-"