High Hopes

I lounged comfortably on Tom's leather couch, a blanket covering me though it was a typical hot Los Angeles day. He seemed to like his air conditioning. I scrolled lazily through my Twitter feed, completely at ease. Tom padded in carrying a glass of iced tea, while I was still sipping on a soda I'd gotten from a convenience store on the way back from our lunch. He narrowed his eyes at me when we made contact, and I smirked sheepishly knowing what would would come out of his mouth.

"Is that what you're supposed to be doing, Miss Kopecky?" He chided, setting his glass down on the coffee table and finding his way to the stereo system. He kneeled down, fiddling with it and giving me a chance to admire his fitted blue t-shirt and jeans. He looked so relaxed and I loved him this way.

"No," I answered him dryly. "What are you gonna do about it?"

He stood up straight, having set up the stereo to his liking. He turned around and shrugged at me. "I guess I could...steal your phone!" He said, using his archetypal evil voice and jumping next to me on the couch, grabbing hold of my phone but not without wrestling me for it.

"NO!" I whined in contest. "Anything but my phone!"

He cackled evilly. "I've discovered your weakness."

A layer of silence enveloped us as we stared into each other's eyes, and I heard it. The music I'd spent so much time and thought putting together. I'd been putting songs on a playlist since we stopped talking to each other because they could articulate how I was feeling better than I could. It was a release, and it kept me in touch with what I was really feeling instead of what I told myself I was feeling. To be able to give a piece of it to him was a scary and liberating experience, but hearing him play it was something else; a different level.

"This is my CD," I whispered.

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "I love it."

Without a word, I pulled out my script and pen from my bag and flipped through until I found where I wanted to work. I just wanted to sit and work like we said we were going to do. I'd expected for the feelings to come rushing back, but I didn't think they'd be so hard to suppress. I thought I'd be strong enough to be friends for at least a couple weeks, but here we were only a day and a half later and he was driving me in directions I didn't want to go.

As the minutes passed, I found myself lying on the couch holding my script up. The top of my head rested against Tom's thigh, and his hand had found its way to my hair. He played with it absentmindedly, but of course I could feel what he was doing. I felt my cheeks warm, eliciting a similar response from a lower part of my body. I put my script down on my chest, giving up and closing my eyes. If I couldn't work, I could at least listen to the music and maybe I'd fall asleep. That way I wouldn't have to deal with the very pressing matter at hand.

I seemed to have forgotten in my horny stupor that limiting one sense, or closing my eyes, would make his hands playing with my hair feel so much better than it did when I was trying to concentrate on work. Instead, I was hearing music that reminded me of how much I loved him while he played with my hair. For fuck's sake, it was like I wanted to be a hypocrite.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" I mumbled. I finally opened my eyes when his hand abruptly stopped. His face looked weird from my lying position, but his blue eyes were wide with a hopeful curiosity. I closed my eyes again, biting my lip and breathing deeply as if I could wake up from this very dangerous dream.

"I don't want to regret this," I whispered. I opened my eyes again, and immediately Tom got up off the couch. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up as my absolute favorite song from the CD came on. I thought that maybe this really was a dream. If this was real life, it wouldn't have been so serene. Yet it was, and it made me feel a sort of happiness I hadn't felt in a long time.

"Then don't," He replied, his face inches from mine. He closed the gap, taking my lips in his with a fit of passion. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me as close as possible to him. He paused to look at me, and I heard the lyrics. "I don't wanna be your friend/I wanna kiss your neck"

It was like Tom could read my mind.

"I love you, Tom. I really do. But I need more time," I said.

He rested his forehead against mine. "Darling, you can have all the time in the world. Just let me be near you."

He pulled me in and I rested my head against his chest, wrapping my arms tightly around him. We landed back on the couch, and I listened to both the music and his breathing. I never wanted to hear to anything else.

"I love you too," He whispered. I suppose I like hearing that every once in awhile, too.