Complicated by You (7 page)

Oh god. This is so uncomfortable.

Sobs filled the space. She cried loudly. I could hear movement behind one of our neighbors’ doors. My lust-driven high evaporated. I turned to Jay. His attention centered on her. Sadness lingered in his eyes. His fingers twitched at his sides as if he was deciding whether to reach out and hug her or not. He looked my way, right as she buried her face into both of her hands. I motioned to him to go ahead and console her.

He’d never been a monster or horrible guy. He always saw the best, when I and others couldn’t. He cared and loved, when others walked away. It was the reason why I craved him so. Because let’s face it, men with muscular bodies littered the earth, but men full of all-consuming love and unmarred souls were hard to find. If he hadn’t wanted to console her, I would’ve been turned off by him. If he’d been so desperate to sleep with me and therefore waved off her hysteria in order to fuck me, it would’ve ruined the moment. I dreamed about knights in armor so shiny it blinded me and triggered my heart with fear to smudge the surface with my dirty hands. Jay was my knight, and for now, Cynthia played the damsel in distress.

“I should let you both talk.” I rushed out of the hallway, tossing Jay a weak smile to let him know that we were okay.

“It’s going to be fine, Cynthia.” Jay walked over and held her.

“What am I supposed to do? I messed up with the phone. I know I did. But it’s not fair. Give me another chance. It’s not fair. I don’t have anyone else.” Each of her words choked on saliva and tears. “You won’t talk to me. Then there’s these football guys in and out of my room! I don’t even know why. You’re out here talking, but not to me. I don’t deserve this.”

“I’m sorry, Cynthia.”

“I don’t want to break up.”

“But, we should.”

“Why?”

“Things have changed.”

“How?” She sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, Cynthia, but I think we should move on. We can be friends.”

“No! Please, Jay. No.”

I glanced back at him right before I entered the room. His arms encased her in comfort. One of his hands patted her back. She buried her face into his huge chest, screeching and crying. He listened to her go on and on about how bad she felt, that she’d learned her lesson, and was so very sorry. As soon as I opened my bedroom door, he looked up and directed his gaze to me.

“I love you,” Cynthia rubbed her face on his shirt. “Please don’t break up with me.”

“Let’s just be friends.” The regret in his eyes transformed to lust as he planted his gaze on my behind.

“I won’t let you break up with me,” Cynthia said. “I just won’t.”

“We have to, Cyn. Things have changed.” He dragged his attention from the curve of my behind up to my face. Desire pooled in his eyes.
Oh my.
If he could fuck me with his gaze, I would’ve already been coming by now. He made no attempt to change his expression as he mouthed the word, “later.”
 

After an aggravating half hour of Cynthia begging Jay to stay and sleep in her bed, I fell into a comatose state, which was good. I didn’t think I could stomach seeing Jay over in her area cuddled up with her, after he’d told me how much he desired me. It would’ve ruined the night. A hero consoled the damsel in distress, but a hero did not fuck the damsel in distress while the heroine lay a few feet next to him.
What would I do if he did have sex with her? How would that feel now that things have possibly changed between us?
I vowed to deal with whatever I discovered in the morning with a clear and logical head.

Nina Simone’s deep voice singing the chorus of “Sinnerman” woke me up. It was my phone ringer designated to all of the most disruptive college students I tutored, which is why I ignored it, rolled over, and covered my head with my blanket. The phone rang again. I growled and jumped up. Fuzzy curls shielded my face from the light seeping through Cynthia’s blinds. Two humps lay on her bed. Jay was still there. I snatched up the phone as more lyrics flowed out. Chuck’s name glowed in purple on my phone’s screen. I’d tutored him last year. He made an appointment with me through email for a tutoring session this weekend. Knowing him, he was calling to cancel.

I held the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Evelyn? This is Chuck. Do you have any idea where Jason went after he left your room early this morning?”

I yawned. “He didn’t leave. He’s still sleeping here.”

“Wake his stupid ass up, please. He’s three hours late for Saturday morning practice. Coach has been brutal with us, making us run insane drills until one of us finds him.”

“I’ll do it.”

“You rock! By the way, I can’t make it to tomorrow’s tutoring session.”

“Whatever.” I already knew what was coming next.

“You think you could do my homework for me?”

“How long is it?”

“Five pages of math shit.”

“What topic, Calculus?”

“No way. I’m not that smart. Applied Math 1. I’ll give you twenty dollars.”

“Fine with me. Email me the stuff. I can do it without your book.” I hung up, forced myself to get out of my bed, and tiptoed over to Cynthia’s bed. She rested on his bare chest while he slept on his back with his mouth half open and his arms spread out.

Still sleeping with your mouth open, dickhead?

I remembered back in the day how I would put things in his mouth while he slept like gobs of toothpaste, mud, or our best friend Piper’s dirty underwear. He would wake up coughing and spitting the crap out and then chase me around the house until he caught me. Next came the assault of tickling and anything else he could think of. When Mom found out I was putting things in his mouth while he slept, she ruined the pranks by saying that he could have choked on that stuff and died. It was the only thing that saved him from my and Piper’s future torture.

“Jay.” I tapped his shoulder, trying not to wake up Cynthia. He didn’t move. I formed my fingers into a fist, drew it back, and punched him in the area under the ribs like he taught me long ago, after this bully had given me a black eye.

“What the fuck, Evie?” He held his sides and hadn’t even opened his eyes, but still he knew it was me. “Why do you always have to punch me?”

“You’re late for practice. Three hours late. Coach is killing the whole team over it.”

Grumbling, he lifted Cynthia up and carefully placed her on the other side of the bed. “Damn. Then it was okay to punch me. How did you find out?”

“Chuck called.”

He got up into a sitting position, rubbing his face and sliding his legs to the side of the bed. “Why does Chuck have your number?”

“Because we’re having hot sex on the side.” I turned around and got back into bed.

Hard footsteps banged behind me. Within seconds, he wrapped his hand around my arm.
How the hell did he get to my bed so quickly?
The mattress shifted down as he put his knees on my bed and pulled me up to him. Lines of sunlight adorned his face and made those green eyes sparkle. “You’re joking, right?”

“What?” I squinted and gestured to his hand. “Let go of me before I punch you in your balls next.”

“Answer the question. Are you having sex with Chuck?”

“Yes. I’m joking.” I checked Cynthia’s bed. She’d already rolled over and put her back to us.

“Why does he have your number?” He quirked his eyebrows.

“I tutor him. That’s why. You know that.”

“You said you stopped last semester.”

I yanked my arm away from him. “Go to practice before the whole team unites and plots your murder.”

“Help me sneak out please.”

“Okay.” Moaning, I got out of bed. “Just let me find some pants.”

I turned to watch his gaze follow me. Hunger replaced the exhaustion on his face. He stared at the back of my thighs, making me feel nervous.
Why does he have to look at me like that?
I turned away from him so he wouldn’t see me blush, pulled the drawer open, and found some shorts. He stayed right there, ogling me until I wrenched them up to my waist.

“Are you going to put on a shirt? It’s going to be hard enough sneaking you past our dorm mother. She puts out tea and cakes for brunch in the downstairs lobby. You without a shirt is going to cause a mob upstairs and get her attention. It’ll have women following us through the secret escape route.”

He formed his lips into a huge smile, headed to the front door, and grabbed his shirt hanging on the doorknob. “Which way are you sneaking me out this time? I almost want to see if I can get past your dorm mother. Those cakes sound good.”

“Don’t even think about it. If she sees you here, you’ll be banned from this building for the rest of the semester. I’m sneaking you out by the center fire escape stairs that we keep open for emergencies like this.” I opened my drawer, took out a Snickers bar, and slung it at him. “Here’s breakfast. You owe me another one.”

He caught it with no problem.

 “The alarm won’t go off?”

“Nope. Every time the college sends someone over to fix it, one of the girls on the fourth floor who is a computer whiz somehow hacks into the system and changes it.” I hurried to the door, but he blocked me from opening it.

“Are you going to move?”

He glanced at the bed where Cynthia was, turned back to me, and slipped his hand past my behind.

So we’re just going to sneak touches now?

One of the most interesting parts of our conversations last night was his touching confession. As I laid in bed thinking about all the different times his fingers had made contact with my flesh, I realized that it had been thousands of times. In fact, he touched me more than any man and all in slick little coincidental connections—helping me out of the car, bumping into me, offering to massage my shoulders or feet, the hugging while he slept in my bed for so many semesters.

The more I thought about it, the more I considered myself a moron. He was right. Race did play an issue in the situation for me. If he’d been a black guy, I would’ve known immediately that he liked me. For some reason, I just assumed Jay wouldn’t like me because of …
What? My color? Race? Features? Why did I think he wasn’t into me?
All the time Jay desired me, and I assumed he never would. I didn’t like what that said about me.
Did I think I was ugly because I was black? No way. It couldn’t be.
Yet, somewhere inside me embarrassment lingered. I felt so foolish for never approaching him about my attraction all these years.

But how would I have known anyway, if he didn’t just tell me?

Jay and I walked out.

“Are you okay?” Jay rested his hand at the center of my back like he’d done for so many years. I laughed at the gesture. “What?” He looked down at me.

 “Nothing.”

The door shut behind us. From the hallway, I could see four girls lounged in the lobby. They stopped talking when they saw him.

“Put on your shirt please. Before you make it on Instagram today.”

“Women are sick. People think guys are horny, picture-taking bastards, but it’s the women.” He put it on and trailed behind me as I rushed off in the opposite direction of the lobby. “What were you laughing at just now?”

“Nothing.” I pushed open the door, glanced in the stairwell, and strained to hear if anybody was there. No noises echoed through the space, so I figured we were fine. Once we headed down the flight of stairs, Jay captured my waist, twisted me around, and pressed me into the wall. This was definitely becoming his signature move.

“What?”

“Answer me. What were you laughing at?” His breath brushed against my forehead, tickling my skin. For someone who’d just woken up, it smelled just fine.

Even his breath is awesome.

“Now you’re giving me that knowing smile.” He studied me with an odd expression. “What do you remember about last night?”

There was my moment to save myself from embarrassment if he’d regretted what he’d said.
Did he?
When I woke up, he was cuddling with Cynthia. That didn’t seem like he was too excited to explore a sexual relationship with me. However, I’d liked him for all these years, more than anyone else I’d ever been with. I’d dreamed and fantasized about him and even worse, masturbated to his image so many times I couldn’t count them in this lifetime.

I’m not scared. I’m not scared.

“I remember everything.”

He licked his lips. I was taken aback. My body reacted. Heat spread over my skin.

“So what do we do?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Are you still with Cynthia?”

His face crumbled into an angry look. He turned away. “That’s complicated.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He rubbed his face with one hand as if he was exhausted. “She was crying and I was so tired. I just told her that I would give her another chance.”

Disappointment hit me in my chest. I’d figured as much when I spotted them in bed, but I didn’t let it get into my head. I’d wanted to hear him say it.

And he did.