095: Aubrey

But as he came after me, I pushed past the others and made it, falling as the movement of the bus jostled me, to our bunks. I started to crawl in the junk bunk, a private decision I had to make, and he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back. There was a lot of laughter.

"Let me go!" I laughed. "I'm not sleeping with you."

"It was one toke." He tried hard to subdue me with non-threatening moves, but I knew my own ways of getting away.

"I don't care."

"Your reasoning is flawed."

"If it were cigarettes it would be the same."

"Aubrey."

"Sorry, Rafe. I told you before, we are so fundamentally different, this might not work."

"I can have a different opinion from you, and not act on it, out of respect for you."

"Is that what you did tonight?"

"I only had the one toke."

"One too many."

"I'm not impaired."

"Maybe not. I don't care. I can't sleep in the same bunk with that smell."

He laughed. "I can ditch the smell."

"It's still in you."

"Aubrey! Grow up. I'm not impaired. And you know as well as I do that I did it for effect. It was an okay debate, wasn't it?"

"Not that controversial actually, the facts are the facts and it comes down to personal opinion, and it was obvious your entire band felt the same as you do. As far as you're concerned it can't hurt you, or anyone else. I feel it is self-indulgent and takes the real you away from me. I don't--- want--- that."

He had both wrists pinned against my chest now, and his leg disabled mine, as I felt the pressure from his thumb ready to snap my wrist. He had me. He nuzzled my hair aside. "I love you to fight me. This is a real plus. No other girl has ever----."

"Don't talk about other girls right now, Rafe."

"Oh, are we up against that now? Before you said you didn't want to hear about past girlfriends. Now you are bothered?"

"Your experience is intimidating." I admitted, struggling.  Rafe pinned me to his bunk. "Unless you plan on snapping my wrist, I suggest you let me go right now." I snarled, smelling rank BO on him for the first time.

"Let's go to bed, and I'll deal with your feelings there."

"No."

He was getting used to me telling him no so bluntly. He grinned. "I need to brush my teeth."

"Do what you want. I'm not sleeping in there." I inclined my head and he grinned, liking my feisty behavior, which made me want to change it, so he wouldn't like it. I had to admit, as he left me to go brush his teeth that our banter did manage to teach me a lot about him, and about myself. There was a certain amount of constructive banter that was emerging as part of our relationship, in a non-threatening way. I'd never had any banter as a child. I was the baby. People just gave me what I wanted, and did for me whatever I asked them to. I grew up with the label, Aubrey Angel, and I accepted it. I never argued with anyone—until Rafe.

I had to believe that the reason it was emerging was because it was one of our only forms of expression. We managed to tell each other things we couldn't or wouldn't in any other way. I recalled his deft, but very firm Taekwondo hold on me, and shuddered. I hadn't really anticipated that much physicality being a part of my future marriage--- not in that way.

I had to brush my teeth too. Annoyed, I swallowed my pride and knocked on the door.

"Peeing." He called. I knocked again for good measure, and turned to walk away. The door opened and Rafe was there, peeing like he'd said. He finished up and flushed as I stood there, looking shocked, and flustered and blushing furiously. "Brush your teeth."

I started to turn and he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the small space. "Brush your teeth with me."

"It's okay, you go ahead."

He sucked his bottom lip in and suppressed his grin. He had my toothbrush and handed it to me. He had the toothpaste and he held it out to me, and when I held my brush out, he squirted some for me, and then recapped the lid. I got mine wet and we stood there companionably and brushed our teeth.

These little amenities. I found myself flashing into memory after memory of intimacy--- married people intimacy. Like showering, washing hair together, brushing teeth together, him braiding my hair, sleeping in the same bed. Rafe was matter-of-fact about things. He just took so much for granted.

Me? I was not matter-of-fact. I was used to being alone. Not sharing.

"Aubrey?" His voice was very low and suddenly not amused or determined at all. "If you need space—on your own--- will you tell me?"

"Yes." I said amazed at his perception.

"But not because you're mad."

"Sometimes space is the best medicine for anger."

"I agree. But right now--- we can't afford to let things go. On this damn bus everything goes so fast. It could get away from us. You're pissed 'cause I smoked pot. I get it."

"You don't. You could have done the demonstration without getting it out and pointedly setting up our differences. And you--- need to pay up." I was referring to his use of profanity again. He bowed his head and I wondered if he was frustrated and annoyed even more.

"I will. I have money on the bunk. But I don't think you should leave it out there for just anybody. There are thefts on these buses."

"Oh." He smoothed my hair as he moved past me in the tight doorway. Our bodies brushed, and I bowed my head as the memory of how he held me in the night lit up. 

That flash of intimacy we shared hit me hard. I may not always like to be touched, but I didn't want to sleep alone anymore.

He turned before heading down the hall. He'd felt it too. Then he nodded, a soft little smile playing at the corners of his lips. I knew I would give in.

He stepped back and waited for me. I got to him. "Rafe--- I promised my mom I would get married in a traditional way."

"I know you did."

"But I'm--- I'm done sleeping alone, and you've done that to me."

"Yes, I have."

"We should be married."

"You've said we shouldn't just get married to have sex."

"No, we shouldn't. And you shouldn't think about going to the temple unless you are ready to live your life by its precepts."

He pursed his lips. "Get in."

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