Chapter Eleven
Justin
“idfc” - Blackbear
“Holy shit!” I stand, staring at her bookshelf. At every copy of James Patterson and Stephen King. “You even have... ” I grab a copy ofThinnerby Richard Bachman—not Stephen King writing as John Bachman, no... thefirstedition copy. I turn toward the kitchen where Marisa’s cooking breakfast. “Are you shitting me?” I run my finger along the spines. “You have every single copy. First Edition?”
“So it seems.”
I step into the kitchen. Marisa’s in front of the small stove in that damn Nirvana t-shirt that hits her mid-thigh, her perfect little nipples visible through the thin white material. A small plume of smoke billows from the skillet, the smell of bacon filling the air as the meat sizzles in the grease. “Woman,” I say, walking up behind her and wrapping my arms around her delicate waist. “You impress me more every time I’m around you.” I kiss the crook of her neck. “This could get dangerous, you know?”
“And why is that?” She breaks away from me, grabs two plates, and fills each with bacon and eggs and toast.
“You’re gorgeous. You write. You cook. You have first edition copies of Stephen King and James Patterson.”
“And that’s dangerous why?”
“Love is a dangerous thing, lady.” Her eyes flicker when I utter that word. “A very dangerous form of insanity, you know? And, I think, if I let myself, I could love you.” I take my plate from the counter, and take a seat at the table. “Two people like us…”
A smirk plays over her lips as she takes her plate and joins me at the table. “Two people like us what, Justin?”
I cram a forkful of eggs inside my mouth and chew, swallowing before taking a sip of the coffee she already had waiting on the table. “People like us, you know, can you imagine if we were to get into a relationship?” She raises her coffee mug to her lips, slowly taking a sip as she stares over the rim at me, one eyebrow sharply raised. “Two people obsessed with the idea of love.” I grab her hand, holding it gently. “It’d be like a fucking fire—burning everything in its path.”
“Oh, would it?”
“It absolutely would.” I lift her hand and kiss it. “I always did like playing with fire, though.”
“So, you’re a pyromaniac then?” She smiles.
“There’s just something about you, Marisa. Something deep and just…” and here I go with the line, “undeniablydifferent.” She stares at me and an unsettling feeling creeps through my stomach.
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” She glances down at her plate, moving her eggs around with her fork.
“No matter what you’ve heard, I’m not an asshole. I don’t fuck around with people I work with.”
Oh, you little liar...“Please, just don’t make me hate you,” I say.
“I’d never want you to hate me.” My phone dings with a text.I miss you, too.I shovel more eggs inside my mouth, staring at the message.
“You okay, babe?” Marisa asks.
“Huh,” I glance up from my phone and meet Marisa’s stare. “Oh, uh, yeah. Fine, It’s fine.” I take a sip of coffee.
“It looks nice out.” She glances across to the window. “Want to go to Central Park and write together?”
“I don’t know. I think I just need to wind down, you know, maybe just lounge around the house, listen to some music, and write…”
Her smile fades and she stands up, grabbing both plates from the table and dumping them in the sink with a clatter. I sit and watch her pace back and forth in front of the sink. “Did you see the Ansel Adam in the living room?” she asks.
Slowly, I glance to the living room, noting the same picture I have hung above my bed. “Yeah, crazy, you know, I have that one over my bed.”
Her pacing ceases and she smiles. “God, we’re so much alike, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” I drag my hand down my face. “We are.” I walk over to her, grab her hips, and pull her to me. “Pick you up this evening to drive up to Connecticut?” My phone dings again. “I’m gonna go pack.” I step away from her. “Pack something sexy. Boy shorts,” I point at her as I reach for the door, “pack some boy shorts. That shit’s hot.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and pops her hip to the side before I close the door behind me. I drag my hand over the wall as I walk toward the elevator. I’m sure as soon as I end up between her legs, that entire dark and mysterious bullshit that drags me to her will vanish into thin air. Positive.
