Nobody's Listening

T H I R T Y - T W O

“So, how much did you spend on all this?” I asked warily as I watched James overturn three bags of clothing.

“Well, I had to buy a couple pairs of pants and some shirts and I actually found another jacket that looked exactly like my old one so I bought it too–“

“What I mean is how did you get the money to pay for this?” I interjected.

James stuck his tongue at me, not moving his eyes from sorting his new clothes. “Your mom gave me some money and I told her I would pay her back as soon as possible.” He held up a gray sweater to his chest. “What do you think?” He tossed his hair back and turned his shoulders in an extremely exaggerated form of modeling.

I fought a smile and tried to look upset. “I thought you were actually going to try them on for me.”

He grinned. “Of course. Now, would you like to watch me shed my clothing or would you give me some privacy?”

Shed your clothing, any day. “I guess I’ll stare at the wall, since it’s so much more interesting,” I replied sarcastically.

“Your sarcasm is coming along nicely, I see.” I could hear the rustle of fabric as James changed into his new clothes. “I almost couldn’t even tell you were being facetious.”

“Maybe I’m not being facetious.”

He snorted and I resisted the urge to look at him. “Okay, first outfit, what do you think?”

I turned around to face him and laughed. “Well, for one, that sweater looks nice on you, but it needs a t-shirt underneath to hide your cleavage. And I wouldn’t wear such light jeans with it, definitely requires a darker pair.” I shuffled through his new clothes and found a pair of black jeans. “Here, change into these.” I found a plain black t-shirt and tossed them at him too.

My breath caught in my throat. James had already slipped out of the sweater, showing off his bare chest and hips that would make a model envious, if not proud. He gave me a shy smile and started to slide the t-shirt over his head, so slowly that my heart started beating more erratically. Once his head popped out, his hair was rumpled and sticking up in some places. I smiled at how innocent he looked and made to turn around.

“Hey, wait,” James whispered, and I stopped in mid-turn. “Can… can you help me get this sweater on?”

I leisurely turned back to face him, licking my lips with anticipation. “S-sure,” I stammered, taking the sweater from him and hitching all of the soft material to the collar. What am I doing? I asked myself, but that didn’t stop me from stepping even closer to James’ bowed head. I slipped the sweater over his head and let my fingers run through the crown of his hair before gliding the collar of it over his ears and forehead. My fingers brushed his burning cheeks and an aching fire started in my stomach. He raised his head as the sweater came over his parted lips and I swallowed nervously.

Ignoring his roving eyes, I continued to tug gently on the sweater, making it go over his svelte shoulders, which were so different from Luke’s own broad shoulders that my sudden exhale jerked my chest down. James’ eyes followed the movement and my fingers tingled, turning my bones to jelly. He shook me off for a second to shove his arms through the sleeves, but left the hem to me.

The ache in my stomach raged on as I gripped the sweater again and drew the hem of it down. My fingers swept over his flat stomach and his jutting hipbones and a little puff of air hissed through my teeth and past my parted lips. Once the sweater was settled past the hem of the black shirt, I placed my hands on his chest. My fingers jerked as I felt his pounding heartbeat, unlike my own fluttering pulse.

“Dezza,” he whispered, his voice full of something soft and burning at the same time. I took a deep breath and ventured a look into his face. His parted lips were only centimeters from my own. His breath hit my nose and I was reminded of lemonade, sweet and tart and refreshing.

“James,” I breathed, our lips so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of them.

He let out a whimper, our lips barely brushing together but my heart raced and the ache hollowed out my entire body. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, our mouths still barely touching.

“Of?” I asked, not wanting to break contact. I pressed my trembling fingers to his chest, his heart pounding erratically under my touch.

“Everything,” he breathed out, a small sob escaping his lips and bouncing off mine. He dug his fingers into my fleshy hips and I let out my own little moan. His eyelashes fluttered on my cheek.

My body cried for more contact, my heart craved it, but my mind made me hold back. Kissing James – actually meeting his lips even for one, mind-blowing moment – would mean no going back. I slipped my fingers up to his shoulders, pressing the fingers of my right hand into his still-pounding pulse in his throat. I breathed in a shuddering breath that made my chest brush against his. His fingers gripped my hips harder. I wanted to cry from how much I wanted him, and the back of my eyes tingled with traitorous tears.

I licked my lips, the tip of my tongue skimming his bottom lip, earning a moan from him. “Any specifics?” I murmured, trying to buy more time of this, whatever it was.

He chuckled softly, one hand tracing the hem of my hoodie. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he whispered, making a heat blossom in my chest that made the hoodie, in fact, too unbearably hot. I groaned as his fingers brushed past my hoodie and tank top and skimmed along my burning flesh. “See? Burning up,” he sighed, pushing the hoodie and tank farther up until he could hold my bare hips again.

“You’re insane,” I whimpered.

“And you want me,” he said, the sudden loudness of his voice vibrating my lips against his.

I fell slack in his hands, my hand falling from his neck and back to his chest. There was no way I would tell him that I did. I pulled my head back by a decimeter, but he grabbed the back of my neck quickly.

“Admit it,” he whispered hoarsely. “Admit it, and I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Our lips brushed back into that burning state of touching and not touching.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, his own warm breath entering my mouth. I wanted to say it. My whole body told me it was true, but my voice had left me. My breath bubbled in the back of my throat, my lips tried to form the words.

“I–“

Suddenly, the phone on the bedside table started to ring. My eyes snapped up to James’ and he blinked his eyes, as if coming out of a daze. I wrenched myself away from him, almost thankful for the diversion, and dived for the phone.

“H-hello?” I stammered into the phone, fighting to catch my breath.

“Dezza!” Luke replied in his cheerful baritone voice. “Sorry I didn’t call last night, babe, my phone died and I ended up just passing out once we got to Paul’s house. Were you running or something? You sound out of breath.”

“Hey, Luke,” I forced out in what I hoped was a steady voice. I looked at James and found him staring at me blankly, running a hand over his mouth in bemusement. “It’s fine, babe. And yeah, I was in the shower when you called. Had to run to get the phone,” I lied.

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to call at such an inconvenient time.” I could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “So tell me, did you pick up the phone still dripping wet and naked, or did you get a towel around you first?”

I let out a shuddering laugh and sat down on the bed. “I actually hadn’t started to bathe yet.”

Luke let out a sigh on the other end. “That’s a shame. Really, it is. Hold on.” There was a pause where I could hear muffled yelling. “Sorry, Dezza, I gotta go, Paul wants to go to some circus or something, I don’t know. I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”

“Yeah,” I replied, distracted by the pained look on James’ face. “I’ll talk to you later then.”

“Okay, baby. I love you. Have a great day.”

“Yeah, you too…” I trailed off as I hung up the phone, still staring at James. I stood up and started towards him, a movement that made him back into the dresser behind him. “James…” I whispered, wanting to move forward but unable to move.

“I’m sorry,” he said a little too loudly. “That was out of hand for me to do. It’ll never happen again.”

My heart skipped a beat and what was left of the burning ache in my stomach turned into a leaden weight of sadness. “It’s not a big deal, Jame–“

“STOP SAYING MY NAME!” he yelled, walking forward only a few paces before coming to a stop in front of me.

My eyes brimmed with tears. “Fine,” I snapped back, taking a step forward so that we were chest to chest, like we had been before. I glared into his burning gray eyes, his face blurring as more tears spilled over.

He was the first to look away, the corners of his mouth pulled down in an angry frown. He made a noise of disgust and tore the sweater off along with the shirt, his pale chest bare and heaving, and his slender shoulders crumpling into himself. “Get out, please.” He brushed past me and threw his clothes on the clothes-strewn bed.

“Fine,” I choked out, backing out of the room while pulling my hoodie back down.

“Fine.”