Addicted

I think I’m a little too into this whole ‘fake’ relationship with Patrik. It’s been four days since Patrik had basically seduced me into being his girlfriend, and I have gotten really protective of him. Which is why, when he texted me telling me he needed me to get to the apartment ASAP, I did just that.

“Patrik?” I call as I barge into the apartment that he and TJ apparently didn’t lock, “is everything –” the words fail to come out of my mouth the second I see Mrs. Berglund standing in the living room with a bunch of bananas and condoms in various boxes.

“Ah, Cameron,” she says, and beckons me further into the apartment. She has the same accent as Patrik, but Patrik’s just seems so much sexier. I’m hesitant to step into the threshold, and I seek out Patrik’s comfort. He sits in a chair, away from his mother, his eyes guarded and on me. I bite my lip in a silent plea, which he gets because he stands and lumbers his lean frame over to me.

As soon as he’s close enough, I grab him and pull him to me. I stand on my toes and pull his head towards mine at the same time he braces his hands on my hips. “I have a feeling you’re going to have to make this up to me,” I whisper in his ear.

He pulls away and I lower myself down onto my heels. He smiles his dimpled smile, and it makes my stomach tingle. “I will so owe you,” he replies, and kisses my cheek for show.

I nod my head and back away so I can take off my shoes. Let the games begin.
…
I think it’s about time that I eat my words. I thought, when I had first arrived, that it was just a coincidence that there were unpeeled bananas and unopened condoms on the same coffee table. Now, I know better.

TJ had walked in shortly after Mrs. Berglund had sat Patrik and I down – on opposite couches so we wouldn’t be tempted – and had decided that he wanted to be part of the talk. Mr. Berglund, on the other hand, was stretched out on the reclining chair and watching television. Apparently he was having no part in this demonstration. I didn’t really want to be a part of it either, but I didn’t have the balls to tell Mrs. Berglund that I had put on enough condoms to know how to do it properly.

“ – But if you do accidentally put the condom on the wrong way, make sure you get a new one. Don’t want any accidents happening, right Cameron?”

At the sound of my name, I look up from a particularly uninteresting spot on the rug and at Mrs. Berglund. “Correct,” I say, unsure if I’d really confirmed the right thing.

She smiles brightly at me, and I can see the similarities between her and her son – it’s touching. “How about you put one on? If you’re having sex with my son, I need to make sure you’re doing it correctly.”

TJ lets out a barking laugh at the same time I blush from my neck all the way up to my hairline. I can’t believe this is happening.

If Mrs. Berglund notices my discomfort, she gives no indication. Instead she hands me a banana and a textured condom. I decide to just grin and bare it, so I stick the banana between my knees as I tear open the condom package. It’s like elementary school all over again, except I didn’t have TJ Oshie making little comments here and there.

“Ah, memories,” he sighs, and I stop rolling the rubber down over the banana in order to glare at him.

He’s reclined his posture in the chair, his hands locked behind his head. He realizes what he’s said is inappropriate, as his gaze dances between Patrik, Mrs. B, and me, as I glare and mouth a nice fuck you to him.

“For you,” he continues slowly, looking at Patrik. “I bet this is reminiscent of the last –” I shut him up by throwing the banana at him.

“Sometimes it’s just better if you just don’t talk,” I tell him snidely.

TJ pouts at me, but I can tell he’s enjoying this way more than he should. “Cammy, baby. Be nice.”

My glare deepens, and TJ’s grin widens. “TJ,” I warn.

“Bergy, your girlfriend looks pretty pissed.”

I’m too busy trying to kill TJ with my eyes to notice that Patrik’s gotten up, until he gently grasps my right hand. “Come on älskling,” he mumbles, and tugs lightly on my hand.

I stand without argument, and slowly drag my gaze from TJ to my boyfriend, whom I grab by the chin and plant a hot kiss on his mouth. When I pull away, Patrik’s face is calm and blank as he looks at me, but I’m not worried about him being angry once we’re out of earshot. TJ, on the other hand, has a very noticeably dark look on his face when I turn to look at him.

Now he has nothing smart to say. In fact, he stands up, storms over to his room and slams the door shut. Patrik sighs from behind me, and I turn to him. I chew my lip indecisively, and Patrik’s smile puts me at ease. I nod knowingly at him. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him.

I slowly slip into TJ’s room, only to find him sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. His hat is discarded carelessly on the floor by his bed, and his fingers weave through his thick, curly hair.

Now that I see him sitting so vulnerably, my heart goes out to him. No matter how much he pisses me off, I will still kiss his metaphorical injuries away. “Teej?” I ask quietly.

He doesn’t move, even acknowledge my presence. “TJ,” I try again, still quiet, as I slowly inch my way inside his room.

“This stopped being about his parents two days ago,” he says finally.

I stop moving at his words, and coincidentally at his side. I’m not sure if I should reach out to him or not, and after the briefest of internal battles, I decide to stand quietly beside him.

But since he doesn’t say anything, I do. “What’s wrong, TJ?” I know this isn’t really about Patrik.

When TJ looks at me, his eyes are sadder than I think I’ve ever seen them, and it breaks my heart. “It may have stopped being about his parents for him, but for me, it was never about his parents.”

My breath catches in my throat. Is TJ Oshie jealous?
…
I don’t know if Patrik and I are getting too comfortable in our little façade or what, but him walking around the apartment without a shirt is dangerous. And by dangerous, I mean that my heart may give out.

“Älskling,” he says, and his voice draws a shiver that goes from my toes all the way to my brain. I bite my lip as I will myself to look at his face and not at any part of his naked torso. What the hell.

I clear my throat. “Yes?”

He gives me a half smile and looks away. He’s too polite in front of me to call me on it, but from the bashful twinkle in his blue eyes, I can tell he’s noticed my wandering eyes.

“Come here?” he asks. Now, being infinitely curious, I am immediately on my feet and moving towards the kitchen. When I get there, Patrik has a look on his face that immediately puts me on edge. I pause on the other side of the table and look at my boyfriend carefully.

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

He smiles like a bashful little boy with his hand in the cookie jar. “Älskling,” he says, holding his hand out.

I lower my eyebrows over my eyes in a wry look. “I don’t think I want to,” I tell him honestly.

He turns up the charm on his shy smile, and my heart thumps painfully in my chest before melting completely. I grab a hold of his outstretched hand and allow him to pull me to him. His skin is smooth and warm against my cheek as I stand nearly on top of him. He smells clean and intoxicating; a smell I wouldn’t mind being wrapped up in for a couple of hours. But a more pressing matter is why Patrik is basically clutching me like his life depends on it, and he’s looking at the floor.

“Patrik,” I ask slowly, “what’s going on?”

“I found a bug on the counter,” his accent slurs some of the words together, and his voice rises to a pitch that would normally indicate a question, but he isn’t asking a question. “But then I dropped it.”

I keep looking at him, biting back my laughter at how forlorn he sounds as he looks around for this mysterious bug. He looks like a big kid, huddled against me as he looks for a bug that may or may not exist.

“I will not ask you to kill it, Camer-on,” he tells me, and his voice rises to make it sound like a question again, “Because it is my job to save you from – oh there it is.” Before I can bat an eyelash, he lifts me by the waist and places me on the table. He’s distracted by something on the floor, so he doesn’t look at me as he speaks. “You’ll be safe up there.”

I smile fondly at him; I don’t have the heart to tell him that bugs can climb up table legs. He says something in Swedish, and by the tone of his voice, I can only assume he’s swearing. He disappears under the table in pursuit – I can only assume – of this ‘bug’.

He appears a second later in front of me. “I found it, Camer-on.”

I smile softly. “Good job, Bergy.”

He holds up his hand and shows me a millipede. The smile drops off my face in an instant, as he smiles proudly at me. “It’s for you!”

“What the fuck, no,” I tell him, swatting his hand away.

I somehow manage to knock the bug out of his hand, but instead of knocking it away from me, I knock it down my shirt. I cannot possibly begin to tell you how I feel right now. I feel sick because this thing is down my shirt, and disgusted because it’s touching me… “Get it out Patrik!”

He stands up. “But it’s down your shirt!”

“Patrik, I put a condom on a banana for you. Stick your hand down my shirt and get it out!”

Despite looking conflicted, he does what I ask and sticks his hand down my shirt.

And, wouldn’t you know it, someone walks in the front door.
…
If I had thought the sex talk with Mrs. Berglund was awkward, the I-just-walked-in-on-something awkward silence is much worse.

She clears her throat uncomfortably, and her gaze shifts to a spot just above Patrik’s head. Mr. Berglund must just be either completely senile, or a really good actor, because he’s completely nonplussed in the kitchen, searching through the fridge.

Actually, as I see Patrik with a blank look on his face, staring listlessly at something across the room, I see a resemblance between him and his father. But before I can comment on how cute he is, even sitting like a bump on a log, Mrs. Berglund starts speaking. “I should have knocked! You two are young and have urges!”

I feel my cheeks heating up – I hate it when older people refer to being horny as urges… it just reinforces their low levels of comfort, which in turn makes me uncomfortable.

“Mom,” Patrik sighs, simultaneously as he starts softly drawing patterns on my arm with his fingers to diffuse my embarrassment. “Sometimes Camer-on just can’t control herself – it isn’t her fault.”

I slowly narrow my eyes as I look over at him. “What?” I ask calmly.

He smiles at me. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Gee,” I drone, turning back to face Mrs. Berglund. “Where do I even begin?”

He kisses my temple, and because the action catches me off guard, I fight to keep the blush off my cheeks. I clear my throat and pat Patrik on the chest lightly. Since his mom and dad had come ‘home’ he’d put a shirt on, and I felt like cursing every known deity to man.

“Say, Mrs. Berglund,” I say, suddenly, “can you translate something for me?”

Patrik stiffens beside me, and I relish in the power I suddenly have over him; because he knows exactly what I’m about to ask.
…
People always say that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. And for me, this is certainly true.

This is the first time, since Patrik’s parents have come to town, that I’ve been in the same room as him and not had to somehow act like his girlfriend. I haven’t had to sneak myself under his arm, kiss him on the cheek – or let him kiss me for that matter – or just be in some kind of contact with him.

And I feel… kind of cold.

Add this cold feeling to the fact that TJ is acting like a brat, and I really don’t feel like myself right now. Patrik hasn’t made any effort to talk to me since he’d shown up at this party, and I’m pretty sure it’s actually breaking my heart a little bit.

I’d grown accustomed to having him near me. I’d grown accustomed to his light touch, his boyish dimpled smile, and that intoxicating smell of his. I missed the way his accent slurred certain words together, the way he sometimes had the wrong inflection in his voice so his statements sounded like questions, and that ever present cowlick on the right side of his head. I missed his –

“Cam, maybe you should just go talk to him. Your staring is weird.”

I blink back my tears and look at my roommate Savannah, whom I’d “dragged” to the party. Her expression isn’t necessarily condescending, but I can tell she isn’t exactly thrilled either.

I pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about, and open my mouth.

“Don’t even bother,” she says, and after downing her drink, leaves me for a refill.

I turn my gaze back to Patrik. He stands at the other end of the room, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, and the other hand gripping some kind of beer that I’d never heard of before. I chew my lip indecisively, but only briefly. I exhale loudly, down the last mouthful of my drink, and stand up.

It doesn’t take me long to cross the room to get to him, and when I do, I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him. His immediate reaction is to stiffen his body, and once he realizes it’s me, he awkward extracts his hand from his pocket and drag it back over my head. “Älskling,” he says softly, his dimpled smile nearly hidden by his facial hair.

I meet his eyes briefly, and then look away shyly. David Perron has stopped talking since I interrupted, and gives me a smile. “Hey Cam,” he says.

You have no idea how much more calm I feel holding onto Patrik, so when I smile at David, it’s genuine. I move so that I’m hugging Patrik’s front, and I’m able to tuck my head under his chin thanks to the heels I am wearing tonight. I exhale contently, and listen as David Perron starts talking again.

Is it weird that this is all it takes from him to make me feel better?

“Cam, can I talk to you please?”

I look over at the sound of the voice, away from David Perron as he physically illustrates what happened last summer when his girlfriend back home had decided to bet him over a game of basketball.

I notice out of the corner of my eye, David looking at TJ, but he tries not to miss a beat in his story as Patrik lets go of me. I insecurely chew the corner of my bottom lip as I look at TJ. Normally the guy is a burning ball of energy, the center of attention, the guy you want to have to start the party. But today, he averts his eyes and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. Something’s wrong.

“Sure,” I tell him quietly, releasing my lip and stepping towards him.

Despite being uneasy, TJ still holds his hand out for me, which I take. TJ keeps me close to his side as we weave through the people. I look over my shoulder at Patrik. His eyes are on me, but I can’t tell what’s going through his head. I hope my face conveys my confusion, but I don’t think it does because as quickly as he looks at me, his attention is back on David and some other guy that just walked up to the pair.

I turn back around just in time as TJ and I get to his room where, thankfully, no one was using it as a makeshift hotel room. As he flicks on the light, he shuts the door. I stand uneasily by the foot of his bed, not really knowing if I should do or say anything.

I watch as TJ removes his hat, runs his fingers through his hair, and then puts his hat back on. His eyes travel up to meet mine, and I see a sort of sadness in them. I pout. “Teej –”

His fingers close around my wrist; I hadn’t realized he was that close. I’m too confused to move, too attached to TJ to want to, and too curious to make myself. His other hand that isn’t holding me in place curls around the back of my neck, holding me in place so he can kiss me.

A month ago if TJ Oshie had kissed me, I would’ve died temporarily and then woken up one of the happiest girls on earth. But something changed in the last month; my crush has turned into this protective love for him. I move my mouth against his, but because it’s something I think I should do. TJ Oshie is TJ Oshie – I might not get this chance again.

When we break apart, we’re both gasping for breath. TJ leans his forehead against mine, and I struggle to not go cross-eyed as I look at him. “You can’t do this to Bergy.”

“TJ –”

“He really likes you, Cam. Do you know what älskling means?”

“No I don’t, TJ, but –”

“Sweetheart,” he tells me, taking a step back from me. His hazel eyes are open and expressive. He looks pained, if the creases in his forehead are any indication. But at the same time, TJ’s omission makes my toes tingle – I hadn’t known Patrik had been calling me sweetheart.

I sigh, though, because I need to tell TJ before I lose my nerve. “TJ –”

“Why do you think he called you pretty that night in his room?” TJ starts going off on a rant that would’ve made any girl swoon. But I was too busy growing irate at his behaviour.

“TJ what the hell is your problem?” I yell, putting my hands on his chest and pushing. “What the hell makes you think I don’t feel the same way?”

TJ’s mouth falls open, but words fail him. He looks confused, but not shocked, as his fingers wind around my wrists. “What?”

“Did you know I felt like shit when he didn’t talk to me?” Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, but I’m too angry with TJ to stop yelling. I’m tired of him thinking that he just automatically owns the universe; that he owns me. He’s one of my best friends, and friends set friends straight. “And then he looked at me, TJ, and it was all okay again.” My vision starts swimming, but something’s holding them back from falling. To be honest, I’m kind of losing my nerve.

“I don’t even know what it is, but I need it. And it breaks my heart that you’d make me sound like the kind of girl that would hurt him.” I feel myself getting defensive, and I cross my arms over my chest as I turn to the side. I don’t want to look at TJ right now.

“What about me?” TJ asks softly.

“What about you, TJ?” I yell desperately, turning to him and uncrossing my arms. “You had your chance long before I met Patrik.” The tears finally spill over my cheeks, and I don’t know what to do. “I can’t get him out of my head, Teej. He’s my heroine. From that stupid cowlick to the way he says the wrong word because there is no word for it in Swedish. I put a condom on a banana for him, and I sat through the most embarrassing talk with his mom about how him and I have urges.”

I look up at the ceiling, and then back down at TJ. I’ve basically forced him into silence, but it’s about damn time he listened. I straighten my posture but back away from him and look at a spot on the floor. “He told me the stupidest thing about himself to make me feel better. Did you know he thought tampons were sticks of dynamite? I do. Did you know he has a thing about ladybugs? I do. There’s something between him and I, TJ, and don’t you dare insinuate that I’m somehow out to hurt him, because I would never hurt him. Ever.” I punctuate my last statement with a ferocious glare at my former fuck buddy, and my voice has returned to normal.

I exhale stiffly and wipe my tears with the back of my hand. “I may not love him right now, but I could, Teej. I so could.”

TJ has since clamped his mouth shut. My little explosive admission has caused his eyes to constrict darkly. He’s now guarded and quiet, and I notice with a silent startle, that I’m heading down the path of his broken heart. But he couldn’t feel that strongly about me, could he?

Suddenly he roughly pushes past me. My eyes follow his back. “Have fun in your happily ever after,” he mutters angrily. At first I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about, but then I notice Patrik standing in the doorjamb. I hadn’t heard the door open.

I swallow thickly as new tears sting my eyes. I’m slowly starting to understand what I had just done to TJ Oshie. Both of us stand frozen in our respective spots, until I make the first move. “I’m such a horrible person!” I wail loudly, seeking comfort in Patrik as I scuttle right into his awaiting arms.

“Älskling,” he murmurs into my hair. The affectionate term curls my toes warmly, and I tighten my arms around his waist.

“He’s going to hate me,” I sniff. I feel slightly ill; on one hand I’m upset because of how things with TJ have turned out, and on the other hand I feel so high in Patrik’s arms.

“He isn’t going to hate you,” he says softly. “Timmy has liked you for a long time.”

I let out a sob. “That makes it even worse, Patrik! He likes me for I don’t know how long, and then you show up and it’s like –” I freeze; do I tell him I like him?

It’s like he somehow knows, because he starts talking the second I stop. His one hand strokes my hair softly, while the other wraps around my shoulders to keep me against him. Patrik’s solid and warm against me, so much so that I exhale softly and close my eyes to keep the tears at bay.

“One time when I set my cat on fire.”

I gasped in horror and pulled my head away to look up at Patrik. Our eyes meet, and he smiles softly. I, however, am completely abhorred at the situation. “Patrik, that’s cruel and not even close to the same thing! Why would you do that?”

“I’m joking?” he says. He looks like a bashful little kid when he ducks his head in humility.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Patrik Berglund!” I admonish.

He gives me a cheeky smile that’s reminiscent of TJ’s. My face morphs into one of sadness. Patrik catches this and exhales softly. His hands move to crawl up my jaw line and cradle my face.

My stomach twists itself into a giant knot as he leans in. I feel like a teenager again, waiting for her first kiss. But I’ve kissed Patrik Berglund before, and even though it technically won’t be anything new, this kiss is going to be under completely new circumstances.

All I see are his lips, surrounded by light scruffy dirty blonde facial hair. It’s going to be like kissing sandpaper, but I really don’t care. The second our lips meet, the knot in my stomach unravels into dozens of tiny little butterflies doing acrobatics for fun. A jolt runs down my spine, and I move closer to Patrik as I hook an arm around his neck.

I pull back first and look into his clear blue eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t say hi to you, Camer-on,” he tells me quietly, if not a bit shyly, “I thought you would’ve been tired of seeing me.”

He flushes a light pink, and I think he looks like the sweetest thing ever. I put my hands on his slightly scruffy face and make him look at me. I bite my lip and release it right after. “It must be the accent.” And I kiss him again.
…
It’s shortly after four p.m. It’s been about forty-five minutes since we’d returned to his and TJ’s apartment after taking his parents to the airport, and now we are squished together on the couch by the huge window in the living room.

“Did you actually set your cat on fire?” I ask curiously.

Patrik sighs and rolls over on the couch. I squeal as he pins me between his body and the couch. “It was only the tip of the tail, and he jumped up on the counter. Touched the candle.”

I bite my lip. “Were you setting the mood for someone, Patrik Berglund?”

He grins. “I got so lucky that night.”

I smack his chest, but I can’t bring myself to be angry with him. “So what about you?” he asks, “how many guys have been your heroine?”

I gasp, and feel my face turn hot (and probably red). “You misheard me,” I mumble, looking away.

He kisses my forehead. “I like being your heroine, Camer-on.”

Suddenly, the front door opens, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Patrik sits up, but neither one of us pretends we weren’t doing what we actually were. TJ lumbers in, silently, and doesn’t make eye contact. He goes straight to his room and slams the door shut. He may not have looked at us, but he is very aware of us.

I look nervously at Patrik, pulling my lower lip between my teeth. Patrik is, as usual, calm as can be. His fingers dance over my shoulder and lightly pinch the back of my neck. “Timmy will get over it,” he murmurs in my ear.

“I hope so,” I return, and collapse against his shoulder.

TJ exists his room carrying a cardboard box labeled HATS. I pause slowly, and then stand. “TJ –”

“I’m moving,” he grunts, pausing at the door. He doesn’t turn around, and I’m afraid if he does I’ll lose my nerve and start crying. “So you two can have the place to yourself.”

And without another word, he exists the apartment with a bang. I gulp; only half aware as Patrik stands behind me and tries to pull me to him. I may have gotten Patrik Berglund, but I ask for certain, how much did it really cost me to get my heroine?