Convenience and Compatibility (16 page)

Dean nods, but is still looking at me,
deadpan.

I’m scared to ask, given Dean’s reaction to
his encounter with Harry, but I have to know. “What did Harry tell
you?”

“He alluded that the two of you were great
friends.”

“Well Harry is an asshole. How do you know
him?”

“We went to college together, had the same
friends. My girlfriend cheated on me with him.”

“Really?!” I’m shocked; Dean is so different
than Harry. I can’t imagine choosing the latter over the
former.

“Why are you surprised?” Dean has a hint of a
smile.

“Like I said, Harry is an asshole.”

John has remained silent for this
conversation. Now he guffaws, trying to keep a straight face.
“Forget about him Dean, let’s enjoy our evening.” John touches
Dean’s arm, trying to get him out of his funk.

“Why don’t you work on your beer and let’s go
have some dinner soon.” I suggest.

“Are you hungry?” Dean asks.

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Dean puts his arm around me and relaxes. I
guess I am forgiven for whatever indiscretion I didn’t do with
Harry. I did pretend that I was a prostitute to him; maybe he told
Dean that I’m working the streets. I try to push this from my mind
and focus on my present company.

The boys finish their pitcher in record time
and we walk next door to a Thai restaurant. I’m really feeling the
two drinks I’ve had, plus the one I had back at Dean’s place. Dean
and John are louder than usual and I’m sure they are feeling the
effects of the shots and the pitcher of beer they had back at the
bar. We order appetizers and the boys order more beer. I’ve never
seen Dean drink like this before and wonder if it has anything to
do with seeing Harry. The boys ramble on again and my mind wanders;
I’m not really listening to them talk until I hear John ask how
dinner went. I know instantly what they’re talking about and they
now have my full attention.

“It was horrible John. My parents were rude
to both of us, I don’t see how I can take Mallory back there.” Dean
runs his hands through his hair, a gesture I’ve come to recognize
as frustration.

“They were always very protective of you.
Man, it used to drive me crazy! They almost fired me for scraping
your knee that one time.” John laughs. “They’ll come around man,
don’t worry.” John pats Dean on the shoulder and beams at him.

I love John’s optimism, the way laughter
comes easy for him. I barely know him, but I’m sad to see him go
tomorrow. Dean needs someone like him for a friend. He’s too dark
and introspective; he needs a friend that is light and carefree to
balance him.

The mood has gotten somber and I decide to
change the subject. “Where in France do you live John?”

“My family lives in a little village outside
of Paris. They have a farm there. Nothing too big; mushrooms, pigs,
chickens, fruit trees. Just for the family’s use. I will be living
in Paris for my residency, but go home when I’m not working.”

I nod, fascinated with anything French.

“Have you ever been to Paris Mallory?” John
asks.

I shake my head no. “I’ve been busy with
school and work, but I’d love to go.” I turn to Dean, “Have you
been?”

He nods yes. “I’ve been to Europe many times
with my family.”

Of course he has.

Dean doesn’t elaborate further and I can tell
that there is something off about him. He has been brooding since
the bar; I can only think it must be because of Harry. Dean leaves
for the bathroom and I want to ask John about him. I open my mouth
to do just that, then close it again, changing my mind. John
notices, “Just be patient with him Mallory, he’s been through a
lot.” I nod and Dean returns, sitting a little further from me than
before. I look at the space between us and want to cry, are we
breaking up over this? I try to remind myself that I don’t know him
well enough to be able to gauge his emotions accurately.

We leave the restaurant late and I’m
surprised when Dean takes my hand as we walk to the car. He
squeezes it tight as we walk down the street, giving me hope that
everything between us is alright.

The ride back to Dean’s place is quiet. I try
to tell myself it is more the sadness of these two friends who have
shared so much having to say goodbye, rather than a crevice that I
fear is forming between Dean and me. John comes in when we get
home. I give him a hug and he whispers in my ear, “Remember what I
said. I’ll see you at your wedding.”

I pull away and feel my face flush. I kiss
John on the cheek, wish him well and go upstairs; hoping Dean
hasn’t seen my embarrassment. I go to the bathroom and put my phone
on one of Dean’s charging/playing stations. I turn on some music
and shut the door, wanting to give the guys some privacy to say
goodbye. I hesitate at the tap to the tub; I want to take a bath,
but not sure if Dean wants me to stay. I decide to take a bath
anyway, I can always leave after.

I start the water and get naked. Sliding in I
heat up the water at the tap with my foot. Now all I need are
candles and a good book. I grab a washcloth from the shelf next to
the tub and fold it over my eyes.

The water fills up to my armpits and I try to
turn the handle with my toes and fail. Suddenly the water is being
turned off and I take the washcloth of my eyes, startled, to see
Dean sitting on a stool and leaning against the tub. He has his
arms folded on the side, his head resting on his forearms.

I feel self-conscious with Dean seeing me
laid out like this. I smile at him and Dean responds with a
half-smile; saddened. I reach over and tousle his hair. “Dean, do
you want to be alone?”

“No.” He says this automatically and I know
he means it.

I caress his cheek with my open palm. “Talk
to me, why are you sad?”

“I’m not really sad, just conflicted… I don’t
know.” Dean looks down and I lean forward to hug him, not bothered
that I’m getting him and the floor wet. I kiss him on the cheek and
lay back in the water. I decide not to trouble him with anymore
questions tonight, although I have many. Is he sad about John, does
he think I was inappropriate with Harry, why did he act strange
when he answered the door tonight, and most important – why didn’t
he tell me he spoke French?

Instead I decide to keep it simple. “Want to
get in?”

Dean shakes his head no. “I’m sorry I’m such
a buzz-kill. I know today was supposed to be different.”

“Dean, I had a great day.”

“How long do you think you’ll be in the
tub?”

“I can get out anytime. Why?”

“I want to snuggle with you in bed, maybe
watch a movie. That sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Dean smiles. “Great. I’m just going to take a
quick shower.”

“Okay.” I smile, knowing I have a perfect
vantage point to watch him naked.

He turns the lights down so the room is
pretty dim and turns the music up. I have it on a classical station
– some aria is on and it’s beautiful. The room is light enough that
I can just make out the outline of Dean’s body. I watch him lather
up the soap and in turn, lather his body. I can smell the body-wash
from here; a smell I’m used to by now being on his body. The smell
produces a Pavlovian response and I touch myself in response to
this arousal, knowing he can’t see me.

I close my eyes and think of the last time we
were in this bathroom together. I try to be quiet and inconspicuous
– I’d be mortified it Dean saw me masturbating. There’s something
about having him in the room that is both titillating and
dangerous. I use the tips of my fingers to rub my clit, watching as
Dean rinses himself under the shower. I imagine that his mouth is
down there instead of my fingers and get close pretty soon. I arch
my back and tense as I come, gripping the side of the tub with my
hand. The hot water in the tub has relaxed me as well as
electrified my nerve endings and I stifle my orgasm as best I can.
I open my eyes after I come down from my high, although I am pretty
sure I could come again if I concentrated.

I see the shower is off and sit up abruptly –
where is Dean? I jump a little when I see him, in the same spot at
the side of the tub as before. It’s dark but I’m pretty sure he has
a big smile on his face. I’m horrified that Dean probably saw me,
and try to be cool just in case he hasn’t. “You ready for bed?”

Dean is quiet for a moment, then much to my
dismay he says, “That was hot.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I’m glad I did. You’re beautiful when you
come.” He takes a hand and caresses my cheek. “Come on, let’s go to
bed.”

Dean leaves and I get out of the warm tub, my
skin still tingling, I turn off the music and walk into the
bedroom. Dean is propped up in bed with the remote, the TV on low.
I’m a little disappointed. A part of me thought that he changed his
mind and wanted to have sex. I try to be cheerful as I get into bed
and snuggle close – I know he needs this right now.

I fall asleep with the TV on, wrapped in
Dean’s arms.

I feel light spilling onto
my face as
I start waking up. I’m excited for the day, anxious to talk with
Dean about yesterday, then remember it is a weekday and he is
probably downstairs working. I roll over, getting ready to get out
of bed, when I see Dean sleeping peacefully next to me. Is it
earlier than I thought? I look at my phone and see that it’s
eight-thirty, he should be up by now. I contemplate snuggling close
to him in the warm bed versus going downstairs so he can sleep in.
I decide to get up and make a cup of tea, he always lets me sleep
in and I should do the same for him.

I climb out of bed and go into Dean’s closet
and open a drawer in his bureau, looking for a T-shirt.

“What are you doing?” Dean calls from the
bed. He sounds groggy and I hope I haven’t woken him.

I walk back into the bedroom and Dean has
propped himself up on an elbow and is looking at me sleepily.

“I’m looking for something to wear.”

Dean pats the bed next to him and moves over,
making room for me. I climb in and he attaches himself to my body
and puts his face in my hair. “Mmmm, you smell good. Let’s stay
here all day.”

“I really can’t Dean, I have to work
tomorrow. Don’t you have to get to work?”

“Oh probably, I just don’t want to.” Dean
puts a leg over me and pulls me closer.

“Really Dean, what are your plans for
today?”

“I told you already.” He buries his head into
my hair and groans.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting
strange since John came over yesterday.”

“I just have a lot on my mind.” His head is
still in my hair; his breath warming me when he talks.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

Dean doesn’t answer for a moment, then he
moves away from me onto his back and runs his fingers through his
hair. “Seeing Harry last night brought back a lot of memories and
feelings from the past. I’m also upset with my parents and I’m sad
that John is leaving.”

He looks at me now and I don’t know what to
say.

“I was worried that you thought I was with
Harry.”

“I was a little. It was hard seeing him act
like he knew you well. That pissed me off. But I trust you."

“Yea Harry seems like a dick. I would never
go out with him.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you move? Go to France and live
there for awhile. I mean, you know French, and you can work
anywhere, right? Why not start over?”

Dean nods. “That’s not a bad idea. Would you
come with me?”

I’m taken aback by the question, not sure of
my answer really. I’m looking at Dean and I realize the silence is
getting too long, so I say the first thing that comes to my mind.
“I don’t know, probably not.”

I realize after I’ve said this it was the
wrong thing to say right now. Dean frowns and looks down, clearly
hurt. “Why not? I thought you loved me?”

“I do, but I can’t work there.”

“Then don’t.” Dean looks into my eyes,
challenging me.

I know I have to be honest with him. I told
him that I would try to keep my mind open about his parents, but
have a sinking feeling that nothing will change with them. It’s at
this moment that I realize that I don’t think we will make it. I
can’t believe that we are having this serious conversation right
now.

Instead of answering I change the subject,
challenging him. “Who were you expecting to be at the door last
night?”

“I’ll answer that after you answer my
question.”

I roll my eyes, “Dean, I am not going to quit
my job and move to Europe with you.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m being
serious and you are blowing me off.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to lighten the
mood. This conversation has gotten serious and I feel
uncomfortable.”

“Why? Were you lying about your feelings for
me?”

“No. Why would I do that?” I pull away from
him, unsure where this is coming from.

“I don’t know.”

I have a feeling why he thinks this. His
parents are getting into his head; he’s starting to believe what
I’m pretty sure they’ve said about me. The thought disgusts me and
suddenly I’m mad.

Dean doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Am I
just the fill-in until your old boyfriend comes to his senses and
you get back together?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

Dean ignores me, “Or is it the money?”

“What money? What fucking money? Is there
something you’re not telling me? If you have these doubts about me
then why do you want to be with me?” I’m vaguely aware that my
voice has turned shrill and I close my eyes and take some calming
breaths. I can feel Dean relax and I open my eyes.

Dean runs his fingers through his hair again
– he looks exasperated. “I do want to be with you. More than you
know. I love you, and I’m just scared that you will break my
heart.”