Just My Luck II (Audio Script)

Stories

“Ah… damn it.

Why is this not working…?”

“Press the sync button!”

“Not that one… which one is…?”

“It’s the one that says sync!”

“Aha! You see?

I am not a technical idiot.

I am, in fact, capable of turning on a stereo.”

“That you are.

But the question remains… will you be able to successfully lock and unlock my apartment door by the time your trip is over?”

“Maybe. If you demonstrate the stupid app thing again.

Who the hell uses an app to open their front door?”

“Every tenant in this building, that’s who.”

“Whatever.

You and your high-tech keyless keypads can stay in Dublin.

Back in Chicago, we use actual keys on our doors.”

“You were tech-savvy enough to work that vibrator, weren’t you?”

“Wha—I… yeah, well—”

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing.

Hey, hand me that pot holder, would you?”

I hope I’m not blushing.

Kind of feels like I’m blushing.

I can’t believe you just said that.

I guess it needed to be brought up at some point, but still.

Neither of us has mentioned the incident since it happened yesterday, but it’s still hanging between us.

Like this big… weird… cloud hanging over friendship.

Well, cloud isn’t the best word for it.

It’s not bad, what happened.

It’s just… something we need to talk about.

I might be overthinking it, but… I don’t know.

This morning I noticed you looking at me, not in a weird way, but it felt… different.

Like, you were checking me out, and you weren’t trying to hide it.

That never happened before.

And it makes me wonder if this thing between us is bigger than either of us knows.

I hand you the pot holder and watch as you move around between the stove and the sink.

I've never really noticed how at ease you are when you’re cooking.

You look really at home in a kitchen.

Bent over the cutting board dicing basil leaves into fine little shreds, that dish towel thrown over your shoulder…

it’s kind of hot.

That’s also like the fifth time today I’ve thought about how hot you are.

God, were these feelings just underneath the surface all these years?

Like, have I always been attracted to you and just never let myself think about it?

Or did fucking you yesterday bring this desire into existence?

And, honestly, I’m a little too hungover to be thinking so hard about it.

“Almost finished… and… there we go.

Homemade mushroom risotto beats another night at the bars, yeah?”

“Oh god, yes.

I don’t think my body could handle another night out.

No offense to St. Patrick, but my stamina isn’t quite what it used to be.”

“Well, the only downside is I haven’t gotten around to getting myself a table yet, as you can see.”

“I could not care less.

I can already tell this meal is going to bring me back to life.”

“You know, I was so mad when you left Chicago to go to cooking school here, but now I’m starting to think it was worth you leaving me.

I get to visit Dublin and you feed me incredible hangover food.”

“Anytime you want, my door’s always open… if you can figure out how to unlock it.”

“Ass.”

“So, since we’re taking it easy tonight… what d’you want to do?

When do you leave again, Friday?”

“Mmm…

Saturday.

Let’s just watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“I, unfortunately, might need to spend a little time checking in with work, make sure my flight details are all good, boring stuff.”

“Mmm, yeah.”

“We should also probably… talk.”

“Talk?”

“About what happened.

Yesterday.”

“Yesterday, mhm.”

“You… know what I’m talking about, right?”

“Yeah, of course, I know what you’re talking about.”

“Because you’re being kind of weird.”

“I’m not being weird!

I said yeah, let’s talk.”

“No, you didn’t.

You said, ‘Mhm,’ which sounded avoidant and weird.”

“Okay, yeah, fair.

Well, go ahead then, talk!”

“I…

you’re so annoying.”

“Well, what exactly do you want to talk about?

We… hooked up.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And I liked it.”

“Yeah, I liked it, too.

But what does it mean?”

“Well, does it have to mean anything?”

“No, not necessarily, but… people don’t just fuck their best friends for no reason.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true.

Are you… feeling… something?

Like, more than… how things have always been?”

“I don’t know.

Yes. Maybe.

It’s… confusing.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

I look up and you’re staring right at me.

Your brow is a little scrunched together, like you’re deep in thought, and you’re chewing on the inside of your lip which you always do when you’re nervous.

I can’t tell what you’re thinking, but it feels like we’re both on the same wavelength.

Like maybe we’re both struggling with the same unanswered question.

The same uncertainty about losing a great friendship in exchange for a risky relationship…

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been, uh… I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.”

“Yeah?

So… why haven’t you?”

“Dunno.

But I’m going to now.”

This kiss is different to the ones we shared yesterday.

It’s softer… but no less intense.

I pull away for a moment, just to look at you again.

The air between us has changed.

I can see every little movement of your eyes, every twitch of your arm muscles as you lean against the countertop.

You slide closer and pull my waist flush against yours.

It’s a ballsy move, a little possessive… and I like it.

Heat shoots through my entire body… starting in my spine as your warm mouth trails over my jaw.

“I’ve been trying to control myself all day.

Didn’t know if you wanted… to do this again…”

“Yeah, I want to do it again.

Oh, I want to feel you…”

You lift up the hem of my baggy t-shirt and trace your fingertips over the bare skin of my waist.