Kira is looking from me to the tube in her hand and back as if she's expecting a covert attack from one or both of us. Well, she's right to be wary... who knows what that tube might get up to?
It's muscle gel, and these bulges covering my chest and stomach are sore muscles. What doesn't she get? Is she suddenly shy now? Her cheeks are definitely growing in colour, and she seems to have some difficulty looking at me. Is it making her nervous that I'm not wearing a shirt? Is that a good sign or a bad one?
"I got thrown around quite a bit this morning," I give her some context so that she can understand that I'm not just giving her a strip show or pretending to be modelling for a swimsuit advertisement. I really need some serious TLC. I'm in pain... well... a little. "Some of these bruised areas are starting to hurt, and my muscles are cramping a bit."
Kira is chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes running over me, and a concerned frown appears between her eyes as she sees all my scrapes and bruises. When they come to rest on the huge bruise at my ribs where Marshall rammed his shoulder into me, her eyes grow large with shock, and reaching out, she tentatively runs the tips of her fingers over the area, causing goose bumps to break out in their wake. Now, it's more than just my abs that are cramping up.
"Maybe you should go to the clinic for a check-up," she suggests, and I'm touched by how worried she looks. "You might have cracked ribs or internal bleeding."
"Nah," I say, pulling a face. "I've had worse."
Shifting uncomfortably, she lowers her head and gingerly applies the gel to all the areas I point out to her. I might be pointing out more areas than strictly necessary, but I rather like being touched by Kira. I cannot tell whether she is enjoying it, though; she refuses to meet my eyes; she just bites her lip and goes to work as if it were an assignment.
Why is it that every other girl I know is always trying to take off my shirt or touch me, while Kira is always trying to get me to put on a shirt... or two... and definitely only sees touching me as a chore?
I eventually run out of ungelled skin and cannot point the same sections out more than three times before it starts getting weird. Can I? So I regretfully roll onto my stomach so that she can get to my back where there is plenty more of me she can run her fingers over. I'm probably not supposed to enjoy this as much as I do, but... well... it is what it is.
This is heaven!
Kira has applied muscle gel to my skin more times than I can count, and we've rubbed suntan lotion on each other a gazillion times. I was really disappointed the day she said she no longer wanted me to put suntan lotion on her back; only Delia is allowed to now. Golly! You use the lotion to draw a cartoon on her back and cause a weird tan ONE TIME, and suddenly, you're declared incompetent!
I really shot myself in the foot big time with that one...
Lying here on the soft duvet, smelling the comforting, familiar fragrance of the detergent Kira uses for their washing (the smell of home), and seeing the blue and green leafy design of the fabric, a contented smile starts to spread on my face. I remember the cute puppies and kittens of a previous cover she had eight years ago, and the memory calls to other memories, and soon, my brain is flooded with so many cherished moments I've spent with Kira through the years.
The most vivid of these memories is of Kira looking like an angel, wearing a white veil and me staring at her, feeling as though my heart was going to explode. That day, I didn't really understand what a wedding and marriage meant. I just knew that it had something to do with two people promising to love each other forever, and I liked the idea of Kicks and me being together forever a lot. I meant every word I said during the play ceremony, even if they were only a couple of yesses and an 'I do'.
I really meant it!
"Do you remember in fourth grade when we got married in our class's stupid segment of the school variety show?" I ask, thinking of what my mother said yesterday about knowing that it wasn't just a play for me. My mom gets it. She knew how I felt about Kira long before I figured it out, and she's been encouraging me ever since, saying that Kira will be blessed to have someone like me and that she'll soon see my worth.
Yeah, she's my mom, she's biased. She has to be; it's in the Mother Contract.
"Vaguely..." Kira mutters, and I hope she's friggin' lying! I know she wanted that crybaby, Robert Kingsley, to be her groom. That really pissed me off, and to this day, the guy runs when he sees me coming, and I haven't even punched him yet. Not even once... I've wanted to, though... I still do. I swear I have no idea why he runs...
No! I'm not going to let that guy spoil my happy memories now, not when Kira's hands are rubbing gel into my back, the skin of her palms comforting and soft against my aches and pains. I loved the day we got married; it will always be one of the best days in so many ways. Robert doesn't matter, Kicks is my girlfriend now, and I'm going to make sure she stays my girlfriend.
"Deli did some research for us on brides and grooms and told us that we're supposed to have a wedding night and a honeymoon," I refresh her memory and the details that came out of the information Delia so helpfully provided us with make me chuckle happily.
"Oh! Don't remind me!" Kira giggles, the sound cascading blissfully into my ears, stirring loose even more fond memories of that day. She'd been so nervous, standing next to me, clutching her flowers, her hands trembling, making them shake alarmingly. I took her hand and refused to let it go the entire ceremony, even though we were supposed to do the stupid hand movements the rest of the class was doing to the song we all sang.
Strangely, Kira didn't freak out and hit me with her flowers; instead, she clung to my hand as though she were drowning, and it was her life preserve. The shaking gradually subsided, and she was able to play her part as the happy bride perfectly.
She also didn't refuse when Delia told us that we should have a wedding night and a honeymoon; by then, Kicks was fully on board with the whole marriage thing... at least for that day. Her role as my devoted wife ended the minute she gave the wedding dress back to our teacher.
"Why not?' I laugh, teasing her now. "It's one of my best memories!"
"You should get out more..." she tells me, and then she laughs, her hands growing still, resting against my shoulder blades. "It was so sweet and sticky!"
She remembers!
Under Delia's directions, we'd bought some raw honeycomb that afternoon before the show. We were going to eat it together under a full moon, but there was no moon that night, not even a friggin' slither, so I suggested that we cut the chunk of honey into two half-moon shapes and feed it to each other in Kira's bed, since Deli said we were supposed to sleep together for our wedding night, so... Long story short, it was messy! No, that's not weird!
Hey, I was nine!
"When your dad came into your room and saw us-"
"Stop!" she shrieks, leaning over my back, trying to put a hand over my mouth and I reflexively, just like when I saw the cut on her heel, grab her wrist and kiss the palm of her hand. Yeah, I know, I'm playing with my parents' medical insurance, but this is Kicks, the girl I love; how am I supposed NOT to do these things?!
"You simply explained to him in that Little Miss Logical way of yours that we're newlyweds having our wedding night and honeymoon," I continue the story when she pulls her hand from mine and starts massaging my back again. If she noticed that I'd kissed her palm, she's not showing it by torturing me; her hands are as gentle as they'd been before.
"First, your dad turned kinda green, and then he just pushed his glasses up his nose in that calm way he has and said that he knew of a much better way for us to spend our wedding night and honeymoon," I laugh, enjoying the memory. Uncle Joe seriously is the best. I'm so glad he is my father-in-law! I mean... uhm... whatever... "If it were my dad, he would probably have taken his flip-flop to me, but yours is just so friggin' relaxed."
When I was a kid, my dad thought that taking off one of his shoes and giving me a wallop on my backside would discourage me from doing weird and wonderful things that drove him up the walls. He soon realised that it didn't work and started punishing me in way crueller and more torturous ways, such as getting me to help him weed the garden.
That wasn't really effective either.
This last year or two, we don't weed together anymore; we just have shouting matches. I swear, I'd rather just weed the garden again... or get walloped with a shoe... it didn't even hurt.
"I don't think Daddy was feeling relaxed, Ethy," Kira giggles. "He is just an eerily calm person, which makes him great to have around in a crisis. Besides, for some reason, he adores you. Always has."
Uncle Joe is like a second dad to me. He is that favourite uncle you can talk to and hang out with when your relationship with your dad is falling apart.
"He gave us ice cream, drizzled some of our honey over it, and binge-watched the first three Star Wars movies with us... again," I smile; all my favourite things together in one memory. Ice cream, Star Wars and the Crofts. "He said that's the way married couples under 21 usually have their wedding night and honeymoon, and we needn't worry about how the ones over 21 do it until we're 29."
Back then, I didn't understand what he meant, but every time I remember it now, it cracks me up. I'm hoping he will bring that 29 down a few years now.
"Oh, my word! Why are you talking about this now? It is so embarrassing!" Kira exclaims, and suddenly, the gentle massages stop, and her fingers turn into torture devices, digging into my sides, and making me squirm.
"Why?" I gasp, rolling onto my back to face her. "We were really innocent then. Wish we could get it back," I sigh, feeling wistful as I look up into Kira's wide, bright eyes, my heart slamming almost painfully into my ribcage. I know I don't deserve someone like her. I've made so many mistakes, I shouldn't even think about wanting someone pure like her as my girlfriend, but I selfishly cannot help myself. I love this girl. "Well, I guess you still have it; it's just me who lost my innocence."
"Golly! I'm 17 years old now, not seven! I know some things now..." she snaps, and then, hearing her own words, her cheeks flare up in bright red, testifying to that innocence she is denying. Kicks has this awesome way of always setting herself up for me to tease her, and I can never resist.
"Yeah?" I grin. "Care to demonstrate? I would like to know some things too."
"No, I think you know more than enough," she groans, trying to get up and not wanting the moment of closeness to end; I grab her wrist and pluck her off balance. I only meant to keep her in place, but I miscalculated, and she fell, landing on top of me. "Ethan!"
Oops!
Well, I'm not complaining and, laughing, I do the one thing I know she does not want me to do, but if I don't do this, I might end up kissing or cuddling her, and she will hate that even more. That's right; I tickle her!
"Come on, show me, Kicks," I order her, poking my fingers between her ribs. "Teach me all those things you know!"
She is shrieking at me to stop, giggling and wrestling me, trying to escape, and I finally listen, but I'm not sure that stopping was such a good idea. I somehow managed to end up with Kicks semi-trapped beneath me, and she looks completely freaked out. Running my eyes over the contours of her face, I smile at her, trying to put her at ease, but being at ease might not be the wisest condition for her to be in, not when we're lying tangled together on her bed.
She is so friggin' beautiful, I can barely breathe!
Her blushing lips are slightly parted as she pants from the exertion of our tussle, and suddenly I can't think of anything other than her lips and how soft they must be. Will she be angry if I kissed her now? She is my girlfriend, after all, but still, I should probably ask first. I kissed her this morning at the rugby match, but it was swift and barely qualified as kissing. Will I lose all the ground I've won and destroy everything I've built with her if I give in to this overwhelming desire to close the gap between us?
"Now, go away," she says breathlessly, pushing against my chest, mercifully snapping me out of the abyss I'm about to fall into. I hurry to let her go, and when she sits up, I do so too and help her replace all the spilt plasters, bandages, ointments and bottles in the first aid kit after our wrestling match scattered them all over the bed. "I want to get out of this swimsuit before I lose my fingers and toes due to gangrene."
"Oh? I thought that suit is so comfy," I grin, nodding at her, surprised at how husky my voice sounds. A guy who smokes three packs of strong cigarettes per day will be jealous of this dry voice I have right now. All I need is a nasty cough to go along with it, and the image will be completed. I might as well carry a friggin' sign board telling the world about the state I find myself in right now. Actually, carrying a board will be a good way to hide that state from Kira.
"Yes!" she chuckles, and I cannot remember what the question was. "Losing the blood flow to one's limbs is very comfy, but too much of a good thing could lead to amputations."
Oh, right! The medieval swimsuit!
"You're such a weirdo, Kicks," I laugh, get to my feet and pull my T-shirt on over my head, confused by the strange looks she is giving me now. She probably thinks that the word 'baka' on my shirt refers to my status as an idiot, and to be honest, I'm not all that sure that it doesn't.
"I want coffee," I grunt. "Do you want some?"
I suck at frying meat, baking cakes, boiling vegetables, making pasta... well... most kinds of cooking, but when it comes to making coffee, I am the reigning king in our family. I can also make a pretty potent toasted cheese. My offer of coffee is causing Kira to grin eagerly; she is well aware of my skills.
"Yes, please! I'll join you in a minute, then we can make our lists," she states, and I think there are a few things I definitely want to put on that list. "What? No mocking? No complaints?" she asks, looking surprised and baffled by the fact that I'm not giving her either of those things.
"And risk losing a limb?" I laugh, giving her a teasing look. I want this relationship to work, and if that means spending some time making Kira a list of goals and rules or whatever it is she needs to make her comfortable with this, then I'm in... even if it will involve some torture. Hell, I'll be spending time with Kira. She can torture me all she wants. "Nobody can ever stand between you and your need for a good list, Kicks."
Besides, I think I might really need a list too...
♂♀