On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 57

“Me? Cheating?” I scoffed, looking at his amused face standing over by the doorway. “You’ve had every advantage. An athlete who knows his very own bedroom, distance and path.”

“Okay, I let you win. It’s a way of me saying thank you.”

“Wow,” I said with wondering eyes, looking directly at those glittering jade eyes. “You sure are a sore loser.”

He instantly jumps over the bed with me on it, putting his weight up on the free space. His elbow accidentally hit my elbow, knocking me out of breath. He realizes this and begins to apologize profusely.

“Oh my god, I’ve killed my girlfriend,” At that line, I couldn’t help but laugh along.

“You jerk!” I groaned, throwing a pillow at him. “That forking hurt!”

“I know. I’m sorry, babe,” Well, this boy knows how to apologize for sure.

I find him hugging my waist again, plopping his entire weight on the mattress for support, coaxing his head tightly on the curves of my belly, repeatedly saying sorry.

“I don’t forgive easily,” I told him.

He looks up at me and turns his jade eyes into pitiful puppy eyes once again. I hate how captivating he looks. It always puts me at a disadvantage.

“Won’t you forgive your loving boyfriend?” He pleaded.

I couldn’t resist. Those were some powerful charms he had.

I grabbed his arm higher until his body aligned with mine. I let my head rest on his shoulders, and his frame enclosed mine. He places his other hand over my mind, clasping them both over my chest.

We stayed in that position for I don’t know how long. But it was long enough for me to feel at peace. I didn’t even mention to him how stinky I must be from the lack of a shower. He didn’t seem to complain, anyway.

“This is nice,” he said after some time.

We were facing the window by the side of his room that overlooked the neighbor’s roof and a mountain from miles away. A bird had nested on the roof, and there lay a couple of eggs. The mother bird was plucking and placing stuff on her nest. The mountain was fully covered in snow, but it was the glistening kind, sort of melting the top surface, what with the morning sun shining on it.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed. “Mama bird is going to get cold this winter.”

“Yes, they are.”

Neither of us spoke for some time. I felt like dozing off but James’ breath behind my neck was tickling me, keeping me awake.

“How’s your dancing?” I asked, trying to revive the conversation.

The silence was peaceful, but it was also deafening. I also could not be left alone with my thoughts for so long. I had to talk it out or explode thinking.

“It’s going great. I have some practices coming up these few days. Some community events are hiring me for dance lessons. I actually have a Christmas dance lined up with Maybeck’s event coordinator. It’s an entire production and all. It’s gonna be performed on the eve of Christmas Eve, I guess. A Christmas special, so you shouldn’t expect much.”

“I’m not,” I giggle. Thinking about him in a full-on Santa Claus outfit complete with a beard and all was funny. So was the entire 360 of that, with him in a Christmas-themed outfit, red boxers, white mustache, and elf ears. What a sight, indeed.

“Stop picturing me in Christmas costumes, Lottie. We’re wearing Christmas colored outfits. Red shirts, black bottoms, and santa hats. That’s all there is to it. Stop looking at me with your perverted eyes,” he pushed my face away, trying to prevent me from looking at him, which only made me giggle even more.

“You’d look cute,” I commented, picturing their said outfits. He’d look good in anything. But dressed up in some themed outfits, he looks like the cutest, handsomest kid there ever was in Maybeck. “Is that for the town fair? The production, I mean?”

“Yes, and it’s tickets only. So, reserve yours now.”

“Well, can’t you get me some?”

“I can, but I won’t. Not with those judging eyes.”

“I’m not even looking at you,” I protested, getting up from bed to look at him directly.

“Get back here,” he instructed, but I stood my ground. “All right, I’ll get you tickets. I’m having them in VIP, by the way. You are sitting in front of the line to ogle at me all you want.”

This guy and his ego.

I laughed out loud heartily. He was so sure I’d want in on his little gigs. I hid back in the comfort of his embrace. Our laughs made our chests echo. The beat of his ringing chest was soothing.

“Are the others invited?”

“Sure, why not? I get 4% of the total sales as a part of the marketing team. If they buy it, I get money,” he quipped.

I chuckled at his response. He was always so business-minded. Even at a young age. It was part of what made me see him as an inspiring person. Both him and his mother. They were always very brave to take steps that no one else dared to take.

“I want 2% of your sales, mister,” I scoffed, resting peacefully in his arms.

“You get 2% of my kisses.”

“Ugh,” I scoffed, pretending to be disgusted by the very idea of his kisses. Yet I secretly craved them. “You will not bribe me with some invaluable thing,” I said in a high voice.

James' laughs caused an echoing in my own chest. His body was reverberating into mine.

“Does it feel weird for you?” He whispers, caressing the back of my head. “Us, like this?”

“Not really.”

Now that he mentioned it, it was a little bit weird. But a good kind of weird. It doesn’t feel rushed. I don’t feel pressured to take on his affection in a crowd of people. We were just still staying in a place that’s ours. Our own position in the universe.

Being here with him gave me a sense of belongingness. Like I finally found somewhere to rest my mind and heart.

“I wish we stayed like this forever,” he mumbles in my hair. “Or at least until winter break is over. Kind of like our own hibernation process, you know.”

“Yeah, tough luck, babe. I don’t want to become like a bear.”

Our teasing comes to an end when we receive a knock on the open door. A splash of adrenaline enters my body, thinking about his mother’s disappointed or disgusted look at us. I was overthinking it. Yes.

His mother smiled at us so warmly, changing eye contact from me to James for a while before finally speaking about what it was she came in there for.

“Hey, mom. We were just, um, chilling,” James nervously chuckles.

Doesn’t help our case, bud.

“I know, honey. That’s how your dad and I used to chill, too,” she chuckles, reaching for the charger on his desk. “I’m going to borrow this.”

Mrs. Tucker left immediately after. James returned to his cradling position on the bed. But I was far too embarrassed to even try to lie down again. I shook my head at James’ begging face, trying to get me to cuddle with him again.

“Nuh-uh, mister. That was embarrassing.”

I got up from bed, and began to roam his room.

It was spacious enough. There was a big desk space on one side of the room for his computer. Although he sold the unit a few years back. They had financial troubles when their dad passed away. Now, the desk is filled with different types of books. Most were academic books, Maths and Sciences. I doubt he has read any of these, though. There were novels and fictional books, too. I still doubt he read these.

Pride and Prejudice? Wuthering Heights? It doesn't scream James Dylan Tucker to me.

The cover of the first book was torn, though. The spine looked like it was frequently opened. It was an Arcturus version of the book. I flipped through its pages. Some were dog-eared, which annoyed me a great deal.

I seriously hope he’s not the one reading this or that this isn’t his.

“You read?” I impatiently asked. He nodded, smirking.

“You can’t believe it, can you?”

“No, you’re lying.”

That was my best argument, who knew?

“No, I am not, Lottie,” he jumps off the bed and instantly flies to my side.

“No.”

“Yes.”

I refused to believe it. I know I haven’t been in his room again for what I think has been years. But he never once mentioned any love or even interest in reading. Moreso, he was failing half of his classes because he refused to listen or read the material.

How could this be?

“Quit exaggerating my lack of interest for knowledgeable things, Charlotte,” he dismissed my shocked expression. I wasn’t even faking it.

But yes, I may be exaggerating a little bit.

“Uh, I’m not. I just, um,” I was still in shock from my new discovery to string together a coherent sentence. “Why haven’t you mentioned anything to me? Or to us?”

“I read. What’s the big deal? Do I really have to announce all my hobbies to you and the others?” His voice raised a pitch higher.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought I knew everything there is to know about you. You know, what with us being friends for three years and more,” I apologized, seeing his flushed cheeks and embarrassed face.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know anything about you, either.”

Well, that was pointless.

I don’t respond to his accusation or argument. I didn’t even see the point to it.

“You know, I have more of these classics, if you ever want to borrow my books,” I offered. He had turned his computer desktop into a mini library. I run my hand through the spines of each book, noticing the more intellectual choices.

“Dante, huh,” I observed, trying to reduce the surprise in my voice.

“Okay, that one I haven’t read. Most of those were my dad’s. I just thought they deserved a good home in my room,” I breathed a sigh of relief at this. So, he wasn’t secretly a genius who was plotting a timely revenge on my future children. “I’ve read most of them. I started with the fictional ones. I’m currently making my way up to those high-brow books. Dante looks like my last stop.”

“That is highly admirable of you,” I admitted, looking up at his diverting gaze.

“Yeah, whatever. He still has dozens of books in his office, but my shelves and desks are full right now.”

“I can’t believe my boyfriend is a reader,” I observed, quite shocked. “Now, you can accompany me to bookshops and booksales. Ugh, I’ve always wanted to bring someone when book shopping, someone to give me recos and to tell the wondrous stories I’ve read. God, this is great.”

I let out a faint cheer, realizing all the possibilities. Perhaps I could even convince him to travel with me on meets and greets with authors. I’ve always wanted to meet with Mr. Albom and Mr. Coelho.

My horizons expanded and I couldn’t help but grin at my boyfriend, who did not know what was heading his way.

“Get your sneaky looks off your pretty face. I will be too busy to head downtown with you and hole up in some bookstore for God knows how long. I have a life, Charlotte,” he chuckles, literally wiping off the smile on my face.

I returned my attention to the books on pretty covers, happily thinking of when the next book sale was happening near the town so I could entice my boyfriend to come with me.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I bet he’ll regret ever showing me his book collection or telling me he reads.