“Quiet, you,” he said playfully and his eyes widened as he looked into his room. “Ooh. Nice.”
“Yep. And you can thank David for putting the bed up,” I said, and crossed the room to close the window. “Dad was trying to put the foot at the head and the same on the end.”
“David, huh?”
“Yes.” I pushed the curtains further apart to allow for more light, then turned around and opened the door adjacent to the window. “So, there’s a bathroom here.”
“Wow, my own bathroom. Nice.” Mike leaned his head around the bathroom door, then smiled back at me.
“And you have a TV.” I walked to the wardrobe—the door on the left of his bed—and rolled out one corner of the LCD. “We usually roll it away to make more space.”
“Great.” He grinned. “I’ve got a stack of our favourite movies on my hard drive.”
“Awesome.” I nodded, pressing my lips into a thin line.
Mike stared down at me with a half-lit smile, his hands on his hips like he was questioning a suspect, and a narrowed look in his eyes that made me clear my throat.
“Why do you keep staring at me like that, Mike?”
“I’m sorry. There’s just—” He went to walk away, but stopped and gave that same look again. “Did you dye your hair or something?”
“Why?” I toyed with the ends. “Does it look different?”
“Not sure.”
“Okay.” I laughed. “That makes perfect sense.”
“Sorry.” He shook his head and hooked his fingers under the handle of his suitcase. “I just haven’t seen you in so long. I think I forgot how you looked.”
“Oh. Well, didn’t you have a picture?”
He shrugged dismissively, placing his suitcase on the end of the bed. “Probably somewhere. Why?”
“You could’ve referred back to that.”
“I ‘spose I could. Guess I just didn’t think of it.”
“Oh.” I nodded solemnly.
“What?” he said, looking up from the padlock on his bag. “What’s with the long face?”
“Um...well, it’s just David,” I said, instead of blubbering that he clearly didn’t miss me like I missed him. “I told you—he has to go away for a few weeks before he leaves indefinitely, and—”
“You’ll miss him?”
“Mm-hm.” I nodded.
Mike softened then and grabbed my wrist, pulling me into his chest for another way-too-tight hug. “It’s all right, kid, you got me. I’ll keep ya company.”
“I know.” I pushed out from his arms. “But, I’ve relied on him so much to get me through. I just don’t know how I’ll—”
“Well, what was I, if not the one who helped you get through things, before you came here?” he said. “You’ll be fine, Ara. It’s not the end of the world. And he’ll be back to say goodbye, right?”
I nodded. It was all I could do for fear of crying hysterically.
“Okay.” He patted my arm. “So just…cheer up and enjoy this time with me. Okay?”
“Okay.” I huffed.
“And sit down. You’re making me feel edgy just standing there, hovering by the door.” He motioned to his bed.
I looked at it for a long moment. It didn’t seem right to sit on his bed now—now that I had a boyfriend.
Mike looked at the bed too, then smiled. “What? Did you booby-trap it—like last winter when you and your friends thought it’d be funny to—”
“No,” I said swiftly, then wandered over and slumped down in the centre, with my feet dangling off the side. “I just—I don’t know if I’m comfortable being in your room now, is all.”
“Right.” Mike nodded, letting his gaze slip past me to the window.
I rolled onto my side and propped my head up with the ball of my palm. “So, what’s the plan today?”
“Well, a change of shirt’s first on the list.” He unzipped his suitcase. “Then, I wanna hear all about this boyfriend of yours.”
I grinned at the sound of his accent, how, alone, in a quiet space, the Aussie in him became more prominent, more noticeable—not a strong accent, just enough to surprise me.
“What?” He frowned.
“Oh, um. It’s the accent,” I said. “It sounds so...foreign.”
“Have you heard yourself? You’re all American.” He put on a mock American accent, but it sounded more Canadian.
“Hey, don’t knock the accent.” I rolled onto my back and looked up at the ceiling. “Took me weeks to get it right.”
“Well, it sounds very authentic,” he said warmly.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He chatted away then, zipping and unzipping pockets in his suitcase, laying things in the drawers across from the bed then closing them gently, while I watched in a sort of dream-like state. He still didn’t seem real. I half wondered when I was going to wake up.
When the suitcase scuffed along the floor, I looked at Mike as he kicked it under the bed and laid a clean shirt on the blanket. “Hey, wanna see what I’ve been doing lately?”
“What?” I pushed up on my elbows.
He yanked his shirt from the back of the neck and pulled it over his head, and my mouth dropped. “You like?”
“Looks like you’ve been working hard to get into the Tactical Group.” I smiled at him one last time before a shiver ran down my spine, forcing me to look at the roof again. “There’s no way not to appreciate that kind of workmanship.”
“Well, they expect a certain level of fitness,” he said, ruffling about at the foot of the bed, “it’s my duty to exceed that.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t look like that the last time you took your shirt off, so...duty fulfilled,” I scoffed, and everything went dark with the strong scent of Mike. “Ew. Wash this thing. It stinks,” I joked, peeling his shirt off my face then tossing it back at him.
He caught it, held it to his nose, then shrugged and threw it behind him. “Come on—move over.”
“Make me.”
“Fine.” The giant jumped onto the queen-sized bed and sunk his elbows heavily into the softness beside me, making me roll slightly into him.
I shoved my palm against his arm and rolled onto my back. “God, you take up so much space.”