Page 59 of The One Where They Fall in Love

“Aw, really? I was looking forward to seeing them.” Lucy pouts.

“Yeah, I think it is for the best,” I say. Thor jumps off the couch and scratches his paw against the door. He turns and looks at me with his big black eyes. “I’ve got to take Thor out. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, be careful,” Lucy says, and I hang up.

I throw on a sweatshirt, relishing in the fact that I can finally put my heavy coats away for the season, and put on Thor’s leash before we head out. I shake my head at the fact when I first met Oliver and Thor, it was March, and I had Thor dressed in sweaters to go outside, much to Oliver’s dismay. Now we get to linger a bit longer on our walks, go a bit farther, soak up New York City in early May, when there’s this short transitionary period between it being so cold your tears turn to ice and it being so hot thatthe entire city smells like a combination of B.O. and urine. It’s a special time.

Thor and I head to the dog run, where I let him off the leash and take a seat at one of the benches around a tree. The park is fairly empty, with just a few other dogs for Thor to play with. I pick up one of the random tennis balls on the ground and throw it. Oliver would cringe if I did that. He only likes Thor to play with his own toys, not ones that people have left on the dirty mulch of the dog park. My lips quirk up into a smile thinking of Oliver and all his eccentricities. I notice every one of them, but I’m not sure he knows that I do. There’s the fact that he would always rather get takeout than go to a restaurant—I think it’s a combination of anxiety about being in a crowd and drinking out of a cup that isn’t his. He hasn’t verbalized this, but the more time we spend together, the better I get at reading him.

Then, there’s his nighttime routine: brushing his teeth, placing his phone on the charger, checking that his alarm is set three times before finally placing the phone on the front right corner of the nightstand. His pillows: one behind his head and one on each side of him. The one behind his head is the light gray pillowcase and the two on the side are darker gray. I’ve seen him change his sheets and place them in that fashion every time. The light gray goes in the middle, always.

When we first met, he was the firmest, tightest closed book I’d ever met, but over time, I’ve been able to flip through his pages, appreciating every word they have to offer.

It’s in that moment that I realize I’ve learned more about Oliver in a few months than anyone I’ve ever dated in the past. And the best part? It didn’t feel like a job interview.I didn’t have to answer a dating survey to find someone compatible with my personality type. I simply found a friend. I got to know him—slowly and patiently. We had fun together. We laughed. We played. And now, I feel like everything truly led us here. Or rather, to where we ended up the other night. Didn’t I always say I wanted to just be in a relationship without having to go through all the trouble? That’s what happened with Oliver. We fell into it.

I’m just not sure that Oliver sees it the same way.

The sun has just set, so it’s not completely dark out, but the sky is clear with the last sliver of light just peeking over the horizon. I look up at the sky, wishing I could see the stars. Most days, I’m happy with life in the city. Lucy hated it, but I love the convenience it offers. I love the walkability and the variety of cultures around every corner. But I miss the stars.

When we were kids, Nicky and I used to take Meatball out at night together. Nick was terribly afraid of the dark when he was little, and taking the dog out was one way I got him to face that fear. Meatball would roam around the yard—he wasn’t very athletic, as his name suggested, so he wouldn’t enjoy the intense game of fetch that I am currently playing with Thor—and Nick and I would name the constellations. His favorite was Orion, primarily because it was the only one he could ever find.

“There he is, Well!”he would say in his mumbled voice, his chubby finger pointing at the sky. He couldn’t say Elle when he was little, so he’s always called meWellie. I’d look up and immediately find Orion’s belt, and trace the line up to his arrow with Nick, so he could see the full picture.

I love the sky as it is now, at twilight. I think it is the time where it is most obvious that we live in a small world,on a small planet, in a system of many, in a universe of infinity. I think back to those nights standing on the lawn with my brother, feeling so insignificant with the endless sky above me.

Thor trots over to me and sits at my legs, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. I reach down and pet him, scratching behind his ears, an unsettling feeling in my stomach when he looks up at me. I’ve grown so attached to Thor. I love him, really. And yet, there’s something in my gut that worries that he is temporary. He is Oliver’s dog, and Oliver, as he has said himself, is not forever.

“I don’t think that will be for me. Not anytime soon anyway.”

It’s those words that echo in my head long after I’ve gone to sleep that night, the same sense of worry staying with me the next day, thinking that this little life I’ve fallen into over the past few months is just a few words away from being taken from me.

Twenty-Six

Oliver

I donotwant to go to this party.

Could I have told Elle that? Sure, I suppose I could have, but then I would have to provide a reason why I didn’t want to go. And at the moment, I don’t have an intelligible one.

Every time I’ve stood at Elle’s door for the past week, I’ve knocked with the intention of talking to her. Telling her that I’m overwhelmed and I can’t take on so much right now. I have sentence starters prepared in my head. But then she opens the door, and the memory of her beneath me comes rushing back, and I can barely remember my own name, let alone the conversation topics I had prepared. I then proceed to spend the next several minutes kissing the hell out of her instead of having the hard discussion I intended to. Not the most mature move on my part.

I couldn’t exactly have the conversation now, before we’re about to leave for Lucy’s book party something or other, so I’m at a bit of a stalemate.

“Careful, you’re drooling,” I say confidently as Elle admires me in my outfit. I wasn’t sure what one wears to a book party, so I opted for black dress slacks and a steel-colored shirt. I’m standing in her doorway, trying to suppress my stunned reaction at her appearance. She’s wearing a satin dress that hugs every inch of her, with long puffy sleeves and a slit up her leg. Her hair is big and curly, with a clip on one side so it is not falling in her face. She’sglowing. Or at least, she looks like it to me.

Her gaze runs up and down my body like she coulddevourme. The feeling is mutual. When her eyes meet mine, she bites her lip and I nearly jump her. She knows it drives me crazy when she does that. I raise my brows at her.

“How much time do we have before we have to leave?” I ask, taking a step into the apartment and wrapping a hand around her hip and squeezing, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Not enough to do what you’re thinking of right now,” she says with a small smirk.

I purse my lips. I kick the door closed behind me and press her up against it. “Enough for you to put new lipstick on?”

“What—?” I stop her words with my mouth. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the excitement of kissing Elle. It’s intoxicating.She’sintoxicating. Especially when she moans at something I do—like when I push her against the door and put my knee in between her legs.

She runs her hands up my torso and around the back of my head, her grip tight. She pushes her tongue in my mouth and I grip her hips harder, desperate for more. I start to pull the bottom of her dress up, and she stops me, pushing me away.

“No seriously, we have to go,” she says, breathless. If I thought she was irresistible before, she’s even more so now—her lips swollen, her hair slightly messy, her dress creased.