Page 73 of Even If the Sky is Falling
I snatched a bag of peanut M&Ms off the top and tossed them to her. “Yeah. Figured if robbers can enjoy my place, I guess we all might as well turn to a life of crime.”
She caught the bag gracefully and tore it open. “These are my favorites.”
“I know.” I was looking down at the snack pile. “I mean, you shoveled them in your mouth like they were oxygen when we studied for the MCAT.”
“You remember that?”
She’d show up to the library for our study group with her hair wrapped in a silky scarf sometimes and I’d imagine what it felt like as I’d peek at the way the color offset her brown eyes. Her eyes would dance and that’s when I knew she’d figured something out or overcome a hurdle. I’d been worried someone else in the group would notice me noticing her so thoroughly, but no one ever did. “Seriously, you ate them all the time. It’s not that weird that I remember,” I said defensively.
She didn’t respond and when I finally braved a glance up, her expression was skeptical. “Forget the M&Ms,” Piper finally said, reaching into the pile of snacks. “Why did you grab these?”
I was a double board certified specialist in obstetrics, on the surgeon general’s national task force on maternal and birthing people health, former president of the homeowner’s association for the home I no longer owned, and I destroyed the cockiest teens you’ve ever met in rec league basketball every weekend. I was a mature, confident adult with my life together, and yet, one look from Piper Drake had me wanting to sink into the floor, the second I saw what she was holding.
Between her fingers was a small box of condoms and my brain short-circuited.
“It must have been in the vending machine...” I stammered. “You know, college kids. I just grabbed things without looking.” I tried to snatch them from between her fingers and she pulled back. “Give them to me,” I insisted, stepping toward her to take the condoms and...well I wasn’t sure what I’d do next, but get rid of them.
“Why? Do you need them this instant?”
I took one quick stride and was in front of her body leaning against the wall she’d backed against. “Just give them to me,” I said, making a grab for the package, but she hid it behind her back, blocking me. “Why are you acting like such a child?”
“I’m not the one who brought condoms and M&Ms for dinner.” She tried to duck away from me, but I pressed one palm to the wall by her head and reached behind her to try for the box again with my other. Instead of saying something else, she let out a sigh, a heavy breath near my ear that made me freeze and combust at the same time. Piper’s lips were parted and her chin tipped up. Our mouths were so close, I could see the tiny chip in her front tooth. I’d catch myself staring at the teeny, tiny imperfection across the lab table for years, during study groups, and now here she was. It was a perfect imperfection and one of the only few she ever willingly showed me.
“Just like old times,” she said on a soft exhale that felt like a moan.
I hadn’t meant to pin her like this, hadn’t planned that our thighs would touch. “One old time,” I said, mirroring her soft tone. “It only happened once.”
She met my eyes and then lowered her gaze to my mouth. “Just that one time.” It felt like an eternity that we stood there, bodies together, heat growing between us, but she shook her head finally and handed me the box of condoms, ducking under my forearm.
“I didn’t find food, but I brought something better,” she said, shaking off whatever just happened and walking toward the desk. “Remember Dr. Scroner?”
I’d called him Dr. Boner in my head until well into my thirties. “Sure. Worst professor I ever had. It’s like he was drunk.”
She pulled two bottles of Scotch from under the desk. “Probably was because his office was stocked and unlocked. I’m guessing his teaching hasn’t improved.”
“Drake, you’re my hero.” After feeling her against me, the cold wall at my front had been a sharp contrast and I didn’t know how long it would be until the world ended, but I was certain being a little drunk on Dr. Boner’s stash would make it go easier.
She handed me one of the bottles of Scotch, the scent of the liquor hitting my bloodstream before I even took a sip. “To the end of the world,” she said, holding her bottle out for me to clink mine.
“To the end of the world,” I said, taking a swig. The liquor burned going down in a deeply satisfying way. The only sound around us was the HVAC system rumbling, that and the years of things unsaid.
“Did you imagine the end being like this?” Piper stared into her bottle, now back in her hand.
I shook my head and thought about her question. “Honestly, I assumed I’d be at work, taking care of people. The hospital is where I’ve spent most of my adult life.” I took another swig. “Just before we divorced, I told my ex that. She wasn’t even surprised, just...resigned, I guess.” The alcohol was a good distraction from that memory. She’d been hurt that I didn’t expect to be with her, but I knew she wanted honesty. Still, I hated the disappointment on her face and expected to see that in Piper’s features when I looked up, but she only nodded.
“Me, too. I just always assumed I’d be at work, probably working late grading papers. Like you said, it’s where I spent so much of my life.” I watched her tip her bottle up, taking a sip and cringing at the taste of the cheap liquor. “It’s always been hard to find someone who understands that, or who makes me want to find better balance.”
“To unhealthy work-life balance,” I said, raising my bottle in her direction. “Dr. Boner’s hooch was kind of therapeutic, huh?”
“I guess, so. Though a little late.” Piper slid off the desk and went to the small coffee maker in the corner, returning with two mugs. “Can’t say there’s much need to unpack our workaholic tendencies now.”
“I don’t know...” I poured a few fingers of Scotch into a mug that read PHDelusional. “Maybe if nothing else, we’ll go out in the company of someone who fully understands our love for the work. That’s something, right?” I’d meant it as a joke, but as the words left my mouth, they felt true. It wasn’t the Scotch—well, it wasn’t all the Scotch. I felt my muscles relax and my anxiety calm and I desperately wanted her to know me again. I didn’t expect Piper to respond in kind, but she was again quiet for a moment before her voice filled the room.
“And if you want, we can pretend you didn’t want to kiss me a minute ago,” she said, before tipping the bottle to her own mug. “I’m sure that might have been embarrassing for you.”
The old me might have denied it. The kid would have. The academically confident but romantically inexperienced college junior who’d had a flash of a chance with Piper would have, too, but I had a lot of years between now and that kid and couldn’t give in to the urge to tell her all my secrets, but I could give in to a different kind of urge. “Don’t act like you didn’t want me to do a helluva lot more than kiss you. Now or junior year.”
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