Page 64 of The Other Guy

“Does it bother you?”

She scrunches her nose up. “Little.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling like a jerk. It’s not that I didn’t put a shirt on because I wanted her to stare at me, though it’s been an added benefit. I just hadn’t really thought about it. I get hot easily and with the fire going, I was sweating. I move to stand but she stops me.

“It only bothers me because I’m lying here feeling like crap and you look like… well, that.”

I shake my head. “You’re beautiful.”

She scoffs. “Right. Was I beautiful when you were wiping the vomit from my mouth, too?”

“No. That wasn’t your best look,” I tell her honestly and chuckle when she tosses a throw pillow at me.

“Jerk.”

As the snow continues to fall heavily, we binge watch Schitt’s Creek. I get her a little bowl of crackers and a glass of 7-Up to ease her stomach. She munches away for a few minutes before her stomach revolts once again and she runs to the bathroom.

I call her uncle Kyle to explain the situation and let him know that she won’t be home for another night. Not only is the snow preventing us from leaving, so is her stomach. When she returns to the living room this time, she doesn’t look fresh or feeling remotely better.

In fact, she looks a little gray.

I help her sit down on the couch and take a seat next to her, feeling her forehead even though I know a fever doesn’t usually accompany the stomach flu. “I think you need to get some more liquid in you. I’m afraid you’re going to dehydrate soon.”

She shakes her head gingerly and slumps over, resting her head on my shoulder. “No. I can’t. I can’t put anything else in me. It will just come right back up.”

“Sierra, come on. I’m a little worried.”

“I’ll be fine. Just need some sleep, I think. I’m so tired.”

“Okay.” I start standing up to go back to the chair but she stops me by placing a hand on my forearm. She doesn’t say out loud that she wants me to stay beside her. I lean back, putting an arm around her shoulders and tucking her in close. She relaxes instantly and I kick my feet up on the coffee table as she pulls hers up on the cushion.

“Thank you, Jack,” she whispers as she wraps an arm around my bare stomach. Her fingers sliding over my skin send goose bumps up my spine and I flex my ab muscles in response. She doesn’t seem to notice, however. Or maybe she just chooses not to comment.

“For what?” I croak then clear my throat.

“Not making me feel like I’m in the way or that you’re annoyed that I’m here sick.”

“You’re not in the way at all. In case you haven’t noticed, the weather isn’t exactly conducive to leaving the house anyway. And besides, I have no doubt that even if I had a million plans for me today, you’d just join me rather than being in the way.”

“True. But still… you also haven’t made me feel weird that I have extracted so many bodily fluids in front of you. So for that, thanks.”

I chuckle and lean down to kiss the top of her head. Then realize what we’re doing and the position we’re in is far more intimate than what two buddies would behave like.

But neither of us move.

If anything, we cuddle closer.

And even when she drifts off to sleep, I make no effort to move.

I turn off the TV and pick up the book I have sitting on the end table. I’m not a huge reader but every once in a while my dad will recommend something to me that I end up really enjoying.

For a few hours, the only sound is the light snoring from Sierra and the pages turning of my paperback. The fire has died down, but the snow is still falling. In all the years I’ve been on this earth, I’m not sure that I’ve ever been as comfortable and content than I am in this moment. Nowhere I need to be, nothing that has to be done, Sierra tucked in close as she sleeps and Toby on the chair snoozing away. Even with Sierra’s drool dripping onto my skin, I have no desire to move.

I lay my head on the back of the couch and close my eyes and feel. For the first time in ever, I let myself truly take it in. Could this be something more? Would I be her rebound? It’s not just a physical connection I feel to Sierra. She’s under my skin, in my thoughts even before she moved back here. There’s something deeper that I want to explore and can’t shake the sense that it would be worth it. I’ve always been so focused on building the gym or finishing culinary school that I’ve put my personal life on the back burner. Maybe the timing is perfect. Maybe it’s not. But I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t try.

Until my mother left my biological father, I saw marriage as something I never wanted to be a part of. Vince, the guy who I share blood with, was not a good person. Though, I didn’t really know that until I got a little older. I just knew that he’d leave my mom and I for long work trips and rarely call to check in and when he’d return home, he would control my mom as best he could. From what she would wear to what meals she would cook for the family. And he never complimented her. Or, when he would, they would be backhanded. Like: Your hair looks better than it did yesterday. Or: It’s nice to see you dressed up once in a while. It actually shows that you’re a woman who cares about herself.

I’ll never forget the way he’d yell at her if things weren’t done his way or the fact that he’d put her down for having a crappy job. She was a teacher. Apparently, molding young minds isn’t an important career. And it just got worse and worse until the day he came home and decided that words weren’t harsh enough. He wanted to prove his manhood by showing her how strong he was. After he threw her across the room, she and I left and never looked back.

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