Amy's Smile Ch. 05

"Well you better come back in," Amy said practically.

She tugged on my arm and I backed up into the house. Which was a good thing, because I probably would have stood out on that porch with my mouth hanging open until I was an ice statue myself.

"I'll call a taxi," I said idiotically, as if any cab driver in his right mind, and yes, even the majority who aren't, would be out on a night like this.

Amy wisely ignored me. "You can use my spare room. The ice will probably be gone by morning and if not, we'll figure something out."

I followed her back into the living room and sat down on the red couch. I realized she was right about me not going anywhere, but I wasn't sure spending the night at her house was such a good idea either. It had finally occurred to me, somewhere around my third roll and second bowl of soup, why I had been acting the way I was.

I liked her. I mean I really liked her. And if you think I'm just a shallow son of a bitch who was only interested in her now that she was good looking, think again. Because the most amazing thing was, I realized that I'd liked her for a lot longer than just the five or six hours since our visit to the mall. In some way, I think I'd been attracted to her almost from the first. I have no idea why, you understand, but still, I was pretty sure it was true. And nobody could've been more surprised than me.

I was even regretting that Amy had done the whole ugly duckling to swan routine. Not only because of Liam, but because I was worried that even if I did have a chance to make Amy change her mind about him, she'd always think I only did it because of her outside and not because I thought she was the most adorable, sweetest, smartest girl I'd ever known. Oh shit, I had it so bad. If I didn't watch myself I was going to break into a song. And trust me; that would not be a good thing.

"What would you like to do?" the voice I was fast becoming addicted to asked me.

"Whatever you want is fine with me," is what I said. If I'd been honest, I'd have told her I wanted to take her to her bedroom and make love to her until she forgot she'd ever known a guy named Liam.

"How about a movie?" Amy continued oblivious to my lecherous thoughts. "I've got a DVD player."

I perked up at that. I'd wanted one of those puppies since they'd come on the market, but I hadn't gotten around to buying one because my TV was so old it didn't even have a cable jack and I didn't think the old girl would survive the shock of being plugged into something that had been manufactured in the last decade.

Besides, a movie was safe. At least I'd be staring at something besides Amy, thinking of car chases rather than trying to come up with ways to get her out of those tight jeans.

"That sounds great."

"Okay, it's in here." Amy led the way into another room at the back of the flat.

"Wow!" I looked around at the media room of my dreams.

"Yeah, I know, it's little much," she laughed nervously. "I've always been sort of a movie nut and I've been collecting them for years."

She wasn't kidding. I've been in a Blockbuster's that wasn't this loaded. The room had probably been a bedroom at one time, but Amy had put up shelves on every wall. They were packed with VHS tapes, floor to ceiling. The only spaces that weren't filled were the one window, which was covered in a heavy drape, and the one wall, where she had a 36"-inch Sony, two VCR's, the aforementioned DVD player, speakers and enough stereo equipment to give a teenaged boy a hard on.

"Wow," I repeated.

"It's really not that big a deal. I get most of the movies used," she continued to protest.

I walked over to one of the shelves and started to browse. She had them all indexed both alphabetically and by genre. The section I was looking at was a special one for Collector sets. I saw all the Die Hard's, the Godfather series and the Star Wars Trilogy. Then I saw something that made my heart leap: Mystery Science Theater 3000 - at least 10 tapes. If I hadn't had a crush on Amy before, this would have done the trick.

"Oh wow!"

"Stop saying that. You're making me feel like a freak."

"Sorry." I grabbed the tape in front of me. "Could we watch this?"

Amy leaned over and looked at the title. "Manos, the Hands of Fate?"

I nodded dumbly and tried not to sink to my knees to beg. Not that I wouldn't do it if I needed too, but I was hoping groveling wouldn't be necessary.

"Sure. Do you want to watch the tape or the DVD?"

"You have both?" My voice broke in joy.

Amy nodded and went to the closet next to her entertainment center. She opened it and turned on a light. The closet was a double and like the walls around it, it was packed with movies, only this time they were all DVDs. I had to bite my lip from saying wow again. No way did I want to piss off the woman who owned a DVD copy of Manos, the Hands of Fate, the best/worst movie of all time.

Amy reached into the closet and like a conjurer, pulled out her copy of the classic. She walked over to the player and popped it in. I just stood there with my mouth open until she turned back to me and motioned that I should sit down.

I looked around the room and for the first time noticed there was furniture in it. Well some anyway, a small scarred coffee table that was barely big enough for the TV Guide and six remote controls it had resting on it, and a huge plaid couch that had to have been made for an earlier race of people who's average height must have been around eight feet. It was old and shabby and I immediately felt like I was home. I did wonder however, why Amy would pick something so big for her tiny body. This thing was so huge I thought I'd have a hard time making my feet touch the ground; she must have felt like a pygmy in it.

"I know it's weird." She saw the way I was looking at the sofa. "But it has its compensations."

Amy moved to one side of the stuffed behemoth and leaned over the side. There was a groan and, on one side, the front panel pulled up as the back angled down. It was a recliner.

"It's really just three recliners hooked up together."

"Oh wo... Gee, that's great."

I went to the other side and found the handle. Then I settled myself into the vast cushions and pulled the lever. With a thwack, I was transported to an astronaut's take- off position. Heaven, here we come.

Amy dimmed the lights to a hazy glow and expertly pushed a couple hundred buttons on three or four remotes until the TV got that blue screen we all know means a movie is on the way.

Amy sat down on the far end of the couch. She didn't take a flight position herself, but instead, curled up with her feet tucked under her butt. It was a good thing the couch/recliner was about eight feet wide because I had this almost irresistible urge to stroke her head to see if she'd purr.

After going through all the usual intro bullshit, the familiar MST3K space cadets showed up on the screen and the movie started. It was just as awful and stupid as I remembered it. I laughed my ass off. I even forgot about my new -found attraction for Amy. Well, that is until a half hour into it. She suddenly remembered she was suppose to be a hostess.

"Do you want a beer or pop or anything?" She asked.

"Nope, I'm fine."

"Sure? I could make some popcorn while I'm at it."

Hmm, popcorn... I'll bet she used real butter too. "Well, if you're really sure you want to fool with it," I gave in, though I was still so stuffed from dinner, I had no idea how I was going to pack in anything else. But you always have room for popcorn, or wait, that's Jell-O, isn't it?

Amy got up and started out of the room. I looked down at the remotes and tried to figure out which one would stop the movie. There were so many on the table I wasn't sure what was what. For all I knew there was one there that would start a chain reaction nuclear meltdown that would destroy the world. I got up and followed her out to the kitchen.

She seemed surprised to see me. I figured that out when she screamed as she turned around and saw me standing behind her.

"Charlie!"

"Oops, sorry," I apologized, "didn't mean to scare you."

"Is everything okay?" She asked. "What do you need?"

"Nothing. You forgot to stop the movie and I didn't know how to do it myself." Or dare to, - there was that chance of meltdown.

"Oh that's okay. I've seen it before."

"Well, so have I. And that's no reason why you should have to miss half of it because you're waiting on me."

"I don't mind." She smiled at me and I frowned back.

"I know you don't," I finally said. "Why is that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why do you think that you have to always play second-string? When is it your turn to come first?"

"Oh Charlie, don't start!" She shook her head and turned back to load the popcorn popper, then she opened the refrigerator door and grabbed something inside.

I was right, real butter.

"I'm not starting anything."

"Yes, you are. And I know where you're heading too," she turned back to me. "But you know, just because I bought a few clothes and cut my hair, doesn't mean I've changed. Not me, inside." She pointed to her chest and my eyes followed her hand to those sweet little breasts that...

I dragged my eyes back up to hers and tried to concentrate on what she was saying about her inside, instead of contemplating what her outside looked like. I was only partially successful, because the view of her newly de-hedged face was even better than her figure.

"...I know what I am, Charlie. And most of the time, believe it or not, I'm happy with that. I..."

"You should be," I interrupted.

"What?" Amy looked at me surprised.

"I said you should be happy with who you are. You're great."

She stared at me and I watched as a slow pink flush colored her little face. "I thought you didn't think so," her voice was faint and she'd dropped her eyes to stare at the fascinating starburst pattern of the green linoleum floor.

"When did I say that?" I protested. "I never said that."

Amy didn't answer me right away, but when she did her voice was stronger, even a little challenging. "Maybe not in so many words, but you have to admit the intent was there," she tilted her head and closed her eyes and started to recite like she'd memorized a list. "I'm not aggressive enough, I'm too accommodating, and I let people walk all over me..."

"Not people, just Liam."

Amy froze. Slowly she raised her head until her eyes met mine. I noticed her cheeks were flushed and her lips trembled. I was afraid I'd done my usual efficient job of making her cry, but when she spoke her voice was soft and steady.

"Liam is the closest thing I've ever had to someone who cares about me just because they want to and not because they're related or my employee or whatever. You think he's awful, but at least he's always acknowledged I exist."

I shook my head. "No, you're wrong, I don't hate Liam. I just don't think he's good enough for you."

It was my big chance. All I had to do was keep going, just one more sentence. Tell her why I felt that way, tell her Liam wasn't good enough, but maybe I was. Or could be, if she'd give me the chance.

"I always loved him. Maybe you think that was wrong, but at least it gave me something to hope for." She looked at me smiled gently. "Life would be pretty boring without dreams, even if you eventually realize that's all they are."

Aw Jesus!

"Yeah Peanut, I know," I sighed.

Amy stood and stared at me like she was waiting for more pearls of wisdom to drop out of my mouth. But what could I say? I didn't have the guts to spill out my own feelings for her and there was no way I was going to agree with her about Liam. Her shoulders slumped and she turned away from me. The popcorn was done. Without another word, we went back to the movie. It wasn't as funny as I remembered it being.

It was still early when it ended. For the first time since the kitchen, Amy spoke though all she said was, "Did I want to watch something else?" I nodded yes, but told her to pick this time. I didn't care what it was. I hadn't even been paying attention to the last film. I'd been too busy feeling sorry for myself.

It wasn't fair. How did Liam rate? I was the guy who'd stayed with her and comforted her and taken her to meet Guido, the Rambo hairdresser. For the first time in years, I was back to being that little guy who'd adored Johanna Dalrymple. Only this time it was worse, because Amy was somebody who was really worth having.

The movie was about half over before I realized what it was, Pretty Woman. I know it's a chick flick, but I'd always kind of liked it, mainly because Julia Roberts is the movie star that most often shows up in my fantasies. I like it enough that I even rallied and paid attention to it. Amy was watching too. At least her eyes were glued to the set whenever I snuck a glance at her. And at the end, I couldn't help but notice that she had to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of that fluffy pink sweater.

"You know," she said as the credits rolled, "that's kind of like me, with the makeover and all. Except for one big difference."

"Yeah," I snorted. "You're not a hooker."

"You can say that again," she agreed almost sadly.

The credits rolled and we were silent for another minute.

"Charlie?"

"Uh huh."

"Can I ask you something sort of embarrassing?"

Shit.

Oh what the Hell, embarrassing had been the main theme to our friendship so far. How much worse could it get?

"Okay."

"Have you had a lot of sex?"

Oh, thaaaat much worse. "I've had my fair share," I said cautiously.

"And have any of the woman you've been with been virgins?"

"Um, no," which was the truth; inexperience had never been a turn-on for me.

I know there are guys out there that specialize in slaying hymens, but the thought frankly terrified me. The whole idea of bad sex combined with emotional minefields, always left me cold. And everybody knows what happens to your cock, when you're cold.

"That's what I was afraid of," Amy sighed.

My dim little mind started to get the drift of why we were having this conversation and it kind of pissed me off. Not only was I not going to get my chance at Amy because of Liam, but now I was going to be relegated to the position of best girlfriend. This was not the relationship I had in mind.

"Amy, I really don't..."

"Oh please, Charlie. Just one more question." She turned those big brown eyes on me and begged silently.

Well, shit.

"All right, but that's it."

What the hell, I knew the question. If I thought that her inexperience would be a deterrent with old Liam. I'd just lie and tell her no, though now that I thought about it, it probably wouldn't be that far off the mark. Liam struck me as the kind of guy who'd like the idea of busting her cherry. Hell, he took everything else she gave him, why not that?

"Would you sleep with me?"

"Huh?" I stared at her dumbfounded. What the hell was happening here?

"Never mind, it's probably a bad idea," Amy stood and looked like she was ready to run.

"Oh no you don't," I struggled to grab the handle on the side of the couch to put the leg rest down. It suddenly released and the force catapulted me onto my feet. Amy edged towards the door, but I caught her arm before she could escape.

Why was Amy offering herself like this when she'd already made it clear that Liam was still the man of her dreams? And when had our movie night turned into a Fellini film?

"You don't get to say something like that and then run away," I continued.

"I wasn't running away." She wouldn't look at me.

"Peanut," I took her chin and tipped it up so she was looking at me, "talk to me."

Amy jerked out of my grip and stepped back. I smiled at her and tried to look encouraging. Apparently, I was successful because she hunched her shoulders and started to speak.

"I've never done anything with anyone," she admitted this like it was a big revelation to me. "In high school no boy seemed to even realize I existed and college wasn't much better. Oh, I met Liam and he at least paid attention to me, but even I couldn't delude myself into thinking that he liked me like a girlfriend. I... I keep hoping for somebody, but it never happens," she swallowed hard, "I don't want to wait anymore."

The right thing would have been for me to tell her that someday she'd find the man she was looking for, maybe even asshole Liam would figure out that he was missing the best chance he'd ever had. Yeah, that was what I should have done. Instead, I opened my arms.

"Are you sure?" I asked as I pulled her close.

"I'm positive. And don't be worried I'll think this is something it isn't," she looked at me with those big dark eyes. "You're the nicest man I've ever met. I wouldn't do anything to ruin our friendship."

I didn't give a damn about our so called friendship, but still that little speech almost made me give up on the whole idea. Granted I wasn't the one who'd come up with this weird scenario, but I was going along with it since it would accomplish something I really wanted: namely, Amy naked in a bed with me: sweet, kind, trusting Amy.

Jesus.

"Peanut, I..."

"Charlie," her voice was so soft I had to stoop to hear it. "Could you just shut up and kiss me?"

And since my face was already in position, I did.

I'm not going to tell you the earth moved. There were no bells ringing in my ears and no birds suddenly appeared to circle over our heads. At least, I don't think so.

What I do know is that the moment I touched that soft pink mouth, I forgot all the reasons why I shouldn't be doing this. Amy's arms wrapped around my neck and I hugged her tightly to me. When we finally finished the lip lock, her cheeks were flushed and both of us sounded like we'd just realized there wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

"Is it always like this," Amy murmured as she nuzzled my shirt.

"No," which was all I could think of to say since my brain had generously donated all it's blood to an organ lower down my body.

"I'll try to do better," she said, misunderstanding me.

Christ, if she got any better, my dick was going to explode. Which, when I thought about it, was the point.

"Where is your bedroom?" I whispered.

"Down the hall, why?"

I almost told her I was looking for decorating ideas before I realized she wasn't making a joke. I pulled back, raised an eyebrow and looked at her. It took a minute, but it finally dawned on her.

"Oh..."

"Amy, if you're not sure about this?" I swore to myself, this was the last gentlemanly act I would pull that evening. I only prayed to God that she wouldn't take me up on it.

Apparently He was listening, because Amy didn't back out. Her cheeks were red, but she shook her head no and took my hand. We walked silently down the hall until we came to a door. Amy opened it and stepped in. I followed.

It was a great room and a hell of a lot neater than my own. But I wasn't really interested at looking at furniture right then. I watched as Amy walked over to the bed and started to pull pillows with shams off of it. I was surprised when she reached over and turned on the light.

After a second, I walked up to stand behind her. She flinched when I put my hand on her shoulder, but didn't resist when I pulled her back up and turned her around.

"Remember, this is first for me too," I told her, "so I guess we're both a little nervous."

"It always sounds a lot easier when I've read about it," she agreed.

I laughed. "Harlequin, right?" I knew all about those little missives of love after growing up with three females in the house.

"No, the Net."

Again my eyebrows shot up. Amy stared back looking embarrassed, but defiant. "Well, Marion suggested a few sites and then I found a few others myself, and really, it's pretty interesting and some of the writing is not bad and it's not like there's anywhere else I can find out anything. I mean I read some textbooks, but they're so dry, you can't even figure out if some of the stuff is even fun and..."