Love at First Fight

by Carrie Aarons

I’m in love with my best friend’s girl, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to make her see that I’m the one she should be with.

It’s funny how every time we interact, with each instance I come in contact with Smith, I forget all about my broken heart. And start wondering what it would be like if it beat for him.

Smith looks like a panther who has just caught his prey. “I have no idea why you think any man wouldn’t kill to be with you. I just can’t …” The hallway is dark, and I hear no sounds from anywhere. Smith is just staring at me, those lethal blue eyes making every nerve ending in my body go haywire. I can’t seem to breathe or swallow, or even move my feet. He’s unreadable, so much intensity in his expression that I can’t decipher. And just when I think he’s about to turn around and go back into his bedroom, he closes the foot of space between us—to capture my lips in the most searing, soul-crushing kiss I’ve ever experienced.

know that you’re a fifth grade teacher, and that you do so much more than teach. You volunteer at their after-school program three times a week, so they don’t have to go home to empty kitchens. And that’s before you take a restaurant shift to make more money to give those kids more. I know that you didn’t have the easiest childhood, and that you hate carrots in your soup. When we went bowling that one time, you whooped our asses, even though Justin made you feel awkward for doing so. I wanted to deck him that night. You prefer candy over popcorn at the movies and stop on the street to give the homeless whatever spare money you have in your wallet. Do you know how many people just pass them by? I know that you put up with Justin’s obnoxious mother for an entire Saturday just to learn how to make his favorite pot roast, and that you re-read your favorite novels because it transports you to a world, even for a few hours, where you don’t have to rely on only yourself for everything. And I know that I—”

“Because I’ve listened to you for the last three hundred and sixty-five odd days. Every time you spoke, I digested that small piece of information as if it was food and I was a starving man. I want to know everything about you, Molly. But you were with my best friend. What was I supposed to do?”

Does he have to be this gorgeous? As if it’s not already an unfair advantage going on a date with him, what with his charm, professional success and overall intimidating personality. No, to top it all off, the man has to look like he could be a character in the next Marvel movie.

But in a way, I kind of knew it would be Molly. Stephanie knew how I felt about her. I can almost feel her grinning down on me, in a told-you-so kind of manner. It almost feels like my sister’s last prank, the last act of stubbornness. She’s putting us together, will force me to confess my feelings, and she’s going to use her story to do so.

“What happens if I go in there?” Molly asks, her quiet honesty always somewhat a shock to me. I was used to women playing coy or playing games. There weren’t many left like her who would just say what was on their mind. Deeply, so she understands I mean this, I look into her hazel eyes. “If we go in there, I won’t be able to stop at just a kiss, Molly. I’ve waited a long time for this, for you. I’m not trying to pressure you, but I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep. If we go in there, I want all of you. I want you under me, moaning my name. I want to feel it when you come with me deep inside you, and I want you to look me in the eyes when you unravel. I’ve thrown you for a lot of loops, I know that. But I’m asking you to trust me once more. And know that I would never … I will never hurt you. Not in there, and not in here.”

The water droplets from my hair and body flick off onto the brim of her sunhat, and over the stark white coverup she’s got on. She’s about to push up from the chair, probably to ask me what’s wrong and why I look like a crazed animal, when I practically haul her up. I press my mouth firmly against hers and kiss her, in front of every single person on that beach. The kiss is tender, yet intense, a show of emotions and feelings that not only do I want to portray to Molly, but all of the housemates. I’m tired of hiding, and I want everyone to know that we’re dating. Seeing each other. Exclusive. Well, not that I’ve asked her that, yet, but for me, it’s exclusive.

My head swivels between our housemates, and Molly is giggling into the crook of my shoulder. “I can’t believe you just did that.” “I knew it! I fucking told you!” Marta turns around to point a self-satisfied finger at Ray. “You were right.” He shrugs, as if he’s been hearing theories from her for a while. “What? What? What?” Heather keeps saying over and over again.

“For your information, both of those men grew up in a very lower middle-class neighborhood in Queens. Smith is one of eight children, and his mother and father worked every day to provide those kids with food and a roof over their heads. Yes, Justin was a piece of crap. He boasted about his money and threw around the newfound privilege he’d earned. I’ll give you that. But aside from the way he broke up with me, he was never anything but kind to your daughter, and you. You should remember that. As for Smith, he’s one of the most hardworking people I’ve ever encountered. You know he never went to college, just like Dad? He worked as a dishwasher in restaurants until he could learn enough and work his way up to a more prominent position. And then when the option came along to not work for someone else anymore, he did most of the construction on his first eatery. He only has one other partner, and they work just as hard if not harder as you and me. You have no idea the kind of man he is, but you’re judging him based on his income. Which he’s worked like a dog for. Not that you’d know he’s worth that much, since he’s one of the kindest, and most understanding humans I’ve ever encountered. You would know, if you bothered to ask him anything about himself, that he still takes his mother to church on Sundays and volunteers at his niece’s ballet recital to work the bake sale table. Just because someone has money doesn’t make them a villain, and I’m sick of you and Dad treating peop...

I’m so heated that I stand up, sending the kitchen chair flying, and stomp out of the kitchen entryway. But I only get four steps before smashing right into Smith’s chest. With just a look up into those stormy indigo eyes, I can tell he heard every word. He practically hauls me up by the waist, until my feet are barely skimming the floor, and holds me to him while he smashes his mouth to mine. The kiss is scorching, branding me from the inside out, and we’re fully making out in my childhood home hallway within three seconds. His large, steel erection presses into my belly, and I’m clinging to his neck for dear life. A hurricane swirls low in my core, and I’m needy within the minute. “Jeanie?”

hope like hell that she can love me the way I love her. I’m pounding on her door, my fist knocking against the flimsy wood, my heart damn near beating out of my chest. A shuffle behind the door, the lock flips, and then she’s standing there, drop-dead gorgeous in reading glasses and sweat pants. “Hi.” I breathe reverently, because it’s been a while since my eyes drank her in. “Smith?” Molly looks genuinely confused. “Wait a minute, why are you here? Isn’t tonight—” “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Jesus Christ, I’ve been such a fucking idiot. I should have come here weeks ago. Shit, I should have come to your bedroom that very night.” I’m breathing heavy from running up all those flights, from flying over here with adrenaline pumping in my veins. Her hazel orbs bulge, genuine shock meeting my gaze, and I’m fully aware that I probably look insane right now.

“Only you. Only you, Smith. Only you could make me want to hit you and kiss you at the same time. You drive me crazy, which is not a natural reaction for me! I’m even-keeled, and you knock me off my axis. How can I want to give into everything you’re saying, while I’ve cursed your name for weeks? It makes no sense!” She just keeps laughing.

“Because you love me,” I tell her. “I should throw you off my doorstep, it’s been weeks! I’ve been crying over you for weeks. And yet, I want to drag you inside.” Her eyes become serious, but she’s still got that goofy grin. “Because you love me,” I repeat it, hoping that if I’m determined enough in saying it, it will come true. “You come here, pour your heart out, and just expect me to take you back without hesitation?” Molly all but stomps her foot. “No, not without hesitation. But yes, because you love me.” I lean in, our noses practically touching. “And I’ll just break down and do it. Because … I love you.” She shrugs, as if she can’t help it.

And there, sitting on the brim of my sink as I walk in, is my boyfriend’s toothbrush. I swear to all that is holy … My annoyance level peaks, thinking back on all the times I asked him to put his shoes by the front door of my apartment, or rinse off a dish before he puts it in my apartment’s twenty-year-old dishwasher. I love the man, but his lack of order and cleanly living has been a sticking point between us. Now I get why Heather gave him so much shit about leaving his cereal bowls in the sink at the Hamptons house. “Smith, I am going to …” I’m about to tell him his toothbrush is going in the garbage, or maybe the toilet if I’m feeling particularly saucy, when I see something sparkle on the handle of it. “You’re going to what?” I hear his deep voice behind me, and when I look back, he’s leaning smugly against the doorjamb with his arms folded over his very sexy, very defined pecs. “What is that?” My throat is suddenly dry, and I’m hesitant to look back at the toothbrush. Because I’m pretty sure, hanging on the handle of his toothbrush which hasn’t been put back in the holder, is a diamond ring.

I love you, Molly. I promise, I will try for the rest of my life to make you happy, and I’ll always keep you safe. Marry me? Make me the happiest damn man on the planet?” Smith kneels in front of me, reaching around my body to take his toothbrush off the sink and hold it up to me. The diamond ring is cushioned in the grip of the turquoise handle, and I already feel the waterworks pouring down my cheeks. I’m so glad, so freaking glad that I waited for this moment. That I didn’t try to push it with Justin, or go settling for a man that my heart wasn’t one hundred percent head over heels for. This is what they mean when they say true love, this right here. Having Smith be the only man to get down on one knee, the only man to ever ask me this question, it makes it all that much more special. “Yes. Yes! One hundred percent, yes.” I nod like a maniac, falling into his arms.