He was letting me get close, but not too close, still keeping me at arm's length, but some progress is better than nothing. Sitting on his couch and sleeping in his bed is Greg House being Gandhi and one wrong wisecrack would banish me back to the spare bedroom.
I underestimated the size of the wall, and the size of the wrecking ball needed to bring it down. But if being married multiple times has taught me anything it's that a little patience goes a very long way.
"Anything else on?" I said, breathing a sigh of relief that The O.C. was finally over.
"Let's see." Greg flipped through the TV Guide. "There's Star Trek, Dog the Bounty Hunter, and some stupid movie about a bunch of idiots who have to rebuild a plane they crashed. Quality television, it just doesn't get any better." With a snort of disgust he tossed the guide to the table.
I rested my head on his shoulder. "Could you flip it to The Weather Channel? Another storm system is supposed to be moving in."
He did then scraped the popcorn bowl for the few remaining kernels.
"The Weather Channel," Greg snickered, "it's like golf only more boring."
"More rain and wind is heading our way." I pointed to the television. "See, it's good for something."
"So is opening a window, and I don't have to pay a monthly fee for that."
"There's a flash flood watch."
"Someone better man the fucking life boats," he grumbled, then surprised the hell out of me with a quick kiss. "I don't know about you but I'm ready to hit the hay."
"Already?" I said, glancing at the clock. "You're going to bed before midnight?"
"Yeah, I thought I'd get some sleep like you non-insomniac people." My friend turned and eyed me suspiciously. "Did you have something else in mind, Jimmy?"
"Well...sort of..."
"Sort of...what?"
"If you're tired...," I fumbled, feeling my face turn fire engine red, "If you're tired it won't be as much fun."
"I can do anything you young folks can do," Greg smirked. "I just can't do it as often."
I furrowed my brows. "You're not that much older than me."
"Exactly," he replied, turning back to the kitchen. "See what you have to look forward to?"
"Damn it all to hell."
"Greg, go back to sleep."
"I can't. The fucking storm is keeping me awake."
Outside the wind was shrieking, slamming against the building like a giant hand, driving the rain sideways into the windows. It was more than enough to make the average layman wonder if hurricane season decided to become a year-round event.
He flipped over, facing me. In the dim light of the room he was all outlines and shadows.
"I just want some sleep," he mumbled into the pillow. "Is that too much to ask?"
Being the light sleeper he is, anything like heavy rain and howling wind is more likely than not to wake him up. I've heard him stalk to the kitchen on more than a few stormy nights.
"It'll die down soon," I said quietly.
"That's what you say."
His hand brushed mine. I took it and held on. Slowly his grip relaxed.
"Jimmy, answer something for me."
"Sure."
"Could you ever hate me?"
The question came from nowhere and knocked me back a bit. I took my time with the answer as the wind and rain eased up on the windows. Greg waited quietly, never trying to remove his hand from mine. Even in the dark I knew is eyes were open and he was looking at me; his gaze had a weight that could be felt even when it couldn't be seen.
"You're prickly, rude, arrogant, and a misanthrope," I finally began. "And you said you could never hate me, now matter what. If you can bring yourself to say something like that, even to one person, how could I possible ever hate you?"
Rain pattered on the roof.
"Anything else you want to know, Greg?"
"No, that's fine for now," he answered, squeezing my hand.
"Okay." I smiled to myself, knowing that I just knocked a few bricks from that wall.
