Page 44 of His Sound
11Let’s Fall in Love || Mother Mother
MOLLY
I don’t noticePaul until he’s leaning right over my shoulder, staring at the screen of my laptop. I let out a yelp of surprise and almost jump out of the seat of my chair. It rolls backwards a few inches, right over Paul’s foot.
“Fuck!” he swears, hopping away as he clutches his casualty and gives me a dirty look.
“Oh, turds! I’m sorry!” I gush. “You scared me! Are you okay?”
The grimace slips off his face, replaced by an easy laugh.
“I’m fine. I’ll just have to watch myself now that we have actual office chairs.”
“And desks!” I add.
I don’t have to do my work at Metro Records from on top of a cardboard box anymore; a load of furniture got delivered yesterday morning. The whole staff pitched in to get everything set up. Technically I had a lecture then, but I didn’t want to seem like I was skipping out. Plus, now that I have the awesomeness of my graphic design job to compare it to, hauling my ass to endless sociology seminars seems extra painful. I’m behind on about six different school assignments, but I keep working on Metro stuff, even when I know I should be studying.
“What’s that you’re working on?” Paul asks, settling into his own chair as he continues rubbing his foot.
I glance at the open Illustrator file. “It’s, uh, a commission. Some cover art for an EP. Don’t tell Shayla I was working on a side project while on the job.”
He makes a zipper motion over his lips before firing up his computer.
I’ve started about a dozen different designs for the EP cover, but none of them have felt quite right. It’s difficult to really nail it when I haven’t actually heard the songs by JP’s ‘friend’ yet. I guessed that the artwork was really for him pretty much the first time he told me about the music. I think he knows I’m in on the secret, but neither of us have admitted to it yet. It’s kind of like an inside joke we refuse to let go of.
We have a lot of those now: inside jokes. It’s been a few weeks since that night we watchedIronman, and his spontaneous protein bar ‘sampling sessions’ have led to a couple more movie nights. Sometimes I still have these moments where I realize that not only am I hanging out with a guy, I’m hanging out with a guy inSherbrooke Motherfluffing Station, and I start to forget how to breathe, but mostly things just feel easy with him. They feel nice.
And utterly, painfully unbearable.
Who am I kidding? There’s a wild, raging, hormonal Molly inside me that constantly wants to jump his bones. Even Tumblr GIFs don’t compare to the toe-curling, thigh-clenching tension that coils in me every time we sit on my bed. I’ve accepted the fact that I’m attracted to him.
Accepting the fact that he’s still ten-thousand times out of my league has been harder, but I’m not letting myself forget it. Those moments when his skin brushes mine and sends me flying higher than I ever have before are just an indication of how far I’d inevitably end up falling. They clearly don’t have the same effect on him; he seems fine to keep our friendship where it is. He asks me about Paul and listens to me talk about the dates we go on, never showing any sign that the idea bothers him.
Things with Paul have been...‘stagnant’ is the word that comes to mind. In a wildly un-Molly-like move, I asked him out the day after I lied and told JP we already had a date. There just didn’t seem to be a reason not to make it true. Paul is...okay. Going out with him feels okay.
We get coffee before work and sometimes have drinks after. We try new restaurants together, and we even went to go see a band we both like. The whole office knows we’re involved, and while we keep repeating that it’s only casual, I catch at least one co-worker making a heart frame around us with their hands every time Paul visits me at my desk.
Sometimes he’ll come to my apartment after our dates. We have made out on the couch a few times, but I always put a stop to things whenever we get that far. The truth is that sex still makes me nervous. I’ve only done it a handful of times, and just the thought of leading Paul into my bedroom makes me want to curl up into a ball in the corner.
I try not to think about what it means that I’ve invited JP to my room several times already and barely hesitated at the door.
“Hey, lovebirds.”
I look up to find Dario, the head of distribution, grinning at Paul and I from the other side of our desks. He’s a big grizzly bear of a guy with even more tattoos on his arms than JP. He used to terrify me, but I’ve been here long enough now to know he’s a secret softie.
“I’ve come to tell you that the office has voted, and we will officially fire the both of you if you show up to the Halloween party next week in a couple’s costume. You guys are sickeningly cute as it is.”
“Can I wear a couple’s costume withyou, Dario?” I reply. “I could be Sid, and you could be Nancy.”
A month ago, I would never have dared evenspeakto Dario, never mind joke around with him, but this place has brought something out in me, something I lost so long ago I forgot what it felt like to have it.
“I like the way you think, Myers, but Patrick and I already have an epic costume plan put together.”
The rule is that everyone has to wear a music-related costume to the party, and most of the staff has been plotting for weeks.
Dario goes back to his corner after that, and Paul turns to face me. “Arewe going to do a couple’s costume?”
I laugh. “We’re not even a couple.”
