Love Love

by Beth Michele

  “Damnit! Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

  I want to tell her I’m not sure that would have made a difference, people that spend their time in faraway lands, like me, are destined to crash into others.

  The door jingles and Brad flashes me his full-on, no holds barred smile. I don’t know why, but it’s just what I need, and I smile right back. I make my way through the line of starry-eyed girls who Brad seems oblivious to and finally reach the counter.

  “Hey, you,” he says.

  I bat my lashes like a starry-eyed girl. “Hey.”

  “You’re up early this morning,” he teases.

  “Yeah, I needed some caffeine.”

  His lips twitch. “Rough night?”

  “Yes, actually. Some drunk guy tried to take advantage of me.” I wink conspiratorially. “It was dreadful.”

  “Really?” He nods as if he’s listening intently.

  Flipping my hair over my shoulder dramatically, I make my way over to a table. “Yes, it was absolutely terrifying.”

  Brad makes his way over with my drink and that smile of his. “What a coincidence! The same thing happened to me, except with a cute drunk girl.”

  I can’t help but laugh.

  He takes a seat next to me and clinks our coffee cups together. “So, how’s that head of yours today?”

  I’m liking the table service. “Not bad, actually. Luckily I drank a lot of water last night.”

  Brad looks over at me with those almond shaped eyes and I melt just a little. “I had a really nice time last night, Gabby.”

  “Yeah, I did, too.” I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious when I’ve never felt anything but comfortable with Brad.

  “You’re pretty funny when you’ve been drinking. I enjoyed the giggling, it was fairly amusing.”

  “Well, I’m glad I could entertain you.”

  “Trust me, you were very entertaining,” he says with a wink.

  We chat for a few more minutes and I’m almost ready to leave when I remember that I need to give him back his jacket. When I hand it to him, his fingers skim my knuckles and I feel those goosebumps puffing up my skin again. I quickly shake it off. “Thanks for letting me borrow your jacket.”

  “Anytime,” he says, smiling and going back to the counter. “See you soon, Gabby.”

  I head towards the exit and try to look back without being too obvious; he’s staring at me. Turning around quickly, I walk out the door, a smile completely overtaking my face.

  ***

  The more I think about Dane standing me up at the Sky Bar, the happier I am that he did. It’s been a week since I’ve heard from him. He’s been traveling for business. He finally calls while I’m at work, startling me out of my post-it induced coma.

  “Hey, gorgeous! Happy Tuesday! I’m back from my trip. I’ve been missing you like crazy, I need to see you.”

  For some reason, I’m not all that excited. Maybe because he didn’t even ask how I’m doing.

  “Can I see you tonight?”

  “Uh…sure.”

  “Great! How about dinner in my hotel room at eight o’clock?”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you then,” I say with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

  “I look forward to seeing you tonight.” I can practically hear him leering at me.

  “See you then.”

  I make my way down the hallway to Dane’s suite. No more horror flick images; no more knights and dragons. That’s good, I guess. I knock on his door and he immediately pulls me into the room, sealing his lips over mine with a desperate need. I’m blindsided by his smoldering heat. I feel his tongue wrap around mine, his breath invading my mouth like a foreign predator. Slowly, he starts to unzip my dress, while I eagerly pull his shirt over his head and reach for the zipper of his trousers, setting free his gigantic erection. Our naked bodies are quickly entangled in one another, turned on and dripping with sweat, our breath coming in heavy bursts.

  “I want my cock inside you again. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

  I’m momentarily distracted by that comment, but it soon disintegrates as he moves me onto the soft satin sheets of the bed and thrusts his hard length inside me. The feeling is so intense I scream as my body succumbs almost instantly. My insides tighten at his deliberate movements; the rocking sensation of his hips, the sweat dribbling rapidly down my heated skin makes the craving for release overwhelming. After one final, pounding thrust, I let go, and Dane follows my lead as his body quivers and his voice calls out “I’m gonna come so hard, Gabby!”

  As our breathing slows, I hear him whisper, “that was incredible.”

  I don’t have a response. I feel numb or sick, I can’t figure out which one. Staring up at the ceiling, I suddenly realize what it is. I feel empty. Good. No, not good. Something’s different. What is it? It can only be one thing. Shit. After a few minutes I slowly sit up on the bed. “I have to go.”

  “What do you mean, you have to go? Where are you going? We haven’t even eaten yet.”

  While Dane continues to talk, I’m already out of bed, pulling my panties and bra on, then sliding my dress back up. I grab my shoes and head for the door. I can tell he’s flustered but I don’t care. I have to get out of here.

  “Please, Angel, I want you to stay.”

  My head whips around. "Don't you ever call me that again," I snap, stomping out the door as quickly as my feet will carry me. Hearing him say that word, one that holds such special meaning for me, makes me sick to my stomach. I start breathing heavily and grab onto the wall as I wait for the elevator. When the doors finally open, I stagger inside and try to catch my breath. I can’t help but think that was the biggest blow off in the history of my life; and it wasn’t happening to me. I was making it happen.

  I’m tired, starving, and feeling the need to lose myself for a little while. Junk food and a movie, that’s it. Making my way over to the corner store, I feel the wind on my face and let it carry me away. Away from all the waves of disappointment drowning me. Disappointment in a family I wish could have been different. Disappointment in a guy who gave me exactly what I wanted. But most of all, disappointment in myself for finally wanting to feel something.

  I awaken in the middle of the night with endless tears streaming down my cheeks and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I throw back my comforter and sneak into Fran’s room, crawling into bed beside her. She doesn’t wake, but her nearness is enough to calm my tears. Minutes later, she starts to stir and extends her arm to stretch out. She cracks open her eyes when her hand touches my shoulder.

  “Hey,” I whisper.

  “You okay?” The sound of her voice releases more tears and they tumble down my cheeks without ever looking back. I wish I could do the same. Fran pulls me close. “Shhh...it’s okay, sweetie…it’s okay.”

  But that’s the problem. It isn’t okay, and I don’t know when it will ever be okay again.

  ***

  It’s Thursday, day four of this horrific week, and I’m having a hard time concentrating. It’s a real problem, since Robby’s left me three times as many sticky notes as I’m accustomed to. My mind keeps drifting to Clark.

  By the time the day’s over, I’m a complete mess. I can’t remember the last time I had such a bad day. Well, I can, and that’s the problem. I’m walking around aimlessly with no destination in sight, and it suddenly feels like I’m literally on the road to nowhere. Images of Clark’s face are flooding my brain and I can’t make them stop. My hands are shaking and tears are streaming down my face like raindrops falling from an angry sky. The faster I walk, the quicker they fall. All the tears I’ve cried for Clark over the years are pounding down on me, overwhelming me. When I finally look up, I’m standing in front of The Brew House. It’s almost as if my feet constantly know me better than I know myself.

  I take a deep breath, wipe my blotchy face, and walk inside. The door jingles and I see a familiar face. A welcome face. Brad looks up from behind th
e counter with a smile that quickly subsides once he sees me. He makes his way over and leads me to a booth. As I sit there with tears stinging the back of my eyes, I feel a hand on mine. A warm hand. A feeling hand. And I feel things. Things I'm not supposed to feel. Things I can't allow myself to feel. It's like his fingers are strumming my heartstrings; pulling, plucking, twisting, and I'm helpless. Completely and utterly helpless. I know I need to pull away, but I can’t.

  “Gabby,” he says. There are no questions in his voice, only concern.

  After several minutes of silence and using up an entire box of Kleenex, I mutter, “I’m sorry.”

  He keeps his hand on mine and gives it a reassuring squeeze, then tugs me up by the hand. “Come on.”

  “What, where are we going?”

  “Just come on.”

  “I can’t go anywhere looking like this!”

  Brad doesn’t let go of my hand. “You look great, now let’s go.”

  We make our way onto the street and I still have no idea where we’re going; not that it matters. I look down and notice that Brad’s fingers are still intertwined with mine. The moment I notice, he does, too, and quickly pulls his hand back to his side. I didn’t mind it, actually. It felt right in some odd way, even though I know, God help me, it shouldn’t. Brad doesn’t say much to me, so we continue to walk in silence. It’s for the best, though; my mind is flooded with too many thoughts I wish I could chase away.

  He finally stops and I see that we’ve reached our destination. Looking up, I see a movie marquee with “Looney Tunes” in giant block letters. My eyes dart over to Brad. “Looney Tunes, seriously?”

  He leans back on his heels, and with childlike eyes, shoots back, “Hey, never underestimate the power of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck!”

  The marathon is hysterical. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. A couple times during the movie, Brad caught me brooding and threw some popcorn at me to shake me out of my mood. It worked, for a while anyway.

  Walking back to my apartment, we’re both quiet. Brad hasn’t pressed me once tonight to talk about what’s bothering me, and I really appreciate it. I don’t know what to say. I feel like a hand is pulling me down a dark hole, and I can't seem to grab the rope to pull myself out.

  Brad stops and looks over at me, forcing my eyes to meet his. “I hope you know by now that you can trust me, Gabby. I’m here if you want to talk about it.” He hesitates, but then continues. “I can see how pained you are. There’s something eating away at you, and I want to help, if you’ll let me.” There’s a softness in Brad’s eyes when he looks at me. It’s almost as if he’s trying to melt away my sadness. His fingers touch the side of my cheek, and for a second, the pain melts away. The disappointment melts away. The world melts away.

  Turning to walk inside, I look back and try my best to muster up a smile. “Hey, Brad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for tonight.”

  “Sure.” He walks off into the night.

  And just like that, my misery returns.

  Returning home to an empty apartment, I shed my skirt, blouse, and rip off my bra and panties as quickly as possible. I make my way to the bathroom and turn the water on until it’s just the right temperature. I slide the curtain to the side and hop into the scalding hot shower, attempting to scrub off all the pain, all the disappointment, and all the guilt. But no matter how raw my skin gets, it just won’t come off.

  ***

  My days are blending together again. I can’t even remember what day it is, or whether I have to work today. I’m not sleeping and I’m freaking exhausted. Dragging myself out of bed this morning, I rub my crusty, sleep-filled eyes and knock on Fran’s bedroom door. When I don’t hear anything, I crack the door, but she isn’t there. A note in the kitchen tells me to meet her for coffee.

  I putz around the apartment for a while and consider just going back to bed, when Fran’s words come back to haunt me. You have to move on, Gabby. It’s time. Only, how do I do that? Heading back to my room, I walk over to the $90 consignment shop dresser and stand in front of the top left hand drawer, staring at it. I’m not sure what possesses me, because I haven’t opened it in a while, but my shaky hand grabs the handle and pulls it open. I gaze at the pile of old pictures and papers, and my fingers itch to flip through them, but something stops me, and I think better of it. Slamming the drawer shut, I run into the bathroom and prepare for the day.

  The door does its usual jingle thing when I walk into The Brew House. My feet seem to be in slow motion, or maybe it’s my brain, I’m not sure. I take in a couple discussing the benefit of children visiting art museums and notice that, for the first time, my heels aren’t sticking to the floor. Maybe Brad’s washed it. I see Fran at the counter leaning over it, her cleavage poking through the top button of her green blouse. My feet make their way over to her of their own volition to interrupt whatever it is she’s trying to do, and Brad’s lips curve into an easy smile.

  “Hey,” he says quietly.

  “Hey.”

  He looks at me with concern. “You doing better today?”

  I twist some strands of my hair. “Yeah, a little bit.”

  Fran looks annoyed that she’s completely out of the loop. I ignore her for a moment and eye the glass case, deciding I need a heavy dose of sugar. “Brad, can I have two double chocolate chip muffins please?”

  He stares at me like he wants to say something, until his mouth finally opens. “Two, huh? Serious chocolate craving?”

  “Yeah, you could say that. Can I also have extra whipped cream in my mocha?”

  “Sure, Gabby.”

  After ordering our drinks, Fran grabs my elbow and practically drags me over to a booth. “What the hell was that all about?”

  “You know, Fran, you’d know about this stuff if you were at the apartment more and not shacking up with Kyle.”

  She slaps me on the shoulder. “You know you support my relationship with Kyle. Spill.”

  “Well…Brad took me to a Looney Tunes marathon yesterday night to cheer me up.”

  “He took you where?”

  I can’t help the small smile creeping up my face. “I just told you. He took me to see Bugs Bunny.”

  Fran raises an eyebrow. “And you seem pretty happy about that.”

  “Well, it was fun. It was just what I needed, actually.”

  “Gabby, what am I missing here? I thought you were seeing Dane.”

  “Well, no, I wouldn’t say I’m seeing Dane. I would say I’m screwing Dane.”

  Fran’s mouth drops open in disbelief. “Whoa. That sounded seriously bitter.”

  Taking a deep breath, I try to gather my thoughts before I speak. “Okay, so I saw Dane the other night, and we had sex, just like always. And before you say anything, yes, it was great sex. But, that’s all it was…”

  Without letting me finish, Fran interrupts. “And the problem is? I thought that’s what you wanted, right? Isn’t it, Gabby?”

  “Yes. No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s been for the past month or so, but now I’m not so sure.” I tap my fingers on the table. “I don’t know. I know after we had sex this time I felt empty, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t like it.”

  “Sweetie, I’ve known you since fourth grade, and sometimes I actually think I know you better than you know yourself. I’ve already told you what I think. You’ve just been too thick- headed to want to hear it. You’re running and you’ve been running for a long time. Dane is a band-aid and that’s all he’s ever been. It’s time to rip off the freaking band-aid; let go of the past, and go after what you really want. Stop messing around, Gabby. This is your life we’re talking about.”

  Fran stops mid-sentence as Brad returns with our drinks. “One Salted Caramel Mocha, extra whipped cream, and one latte.” He gives me a quick wink and walks way.

  “So, where was I, before we were rudely interrupted by that dimpled cutie?” She smiles. “Oh yes.” Her eyes sparkle. “Goin
g after what you want. What do you really want? Because from my perspective, I see things changing for you. Maybe the question isn’t what’s changed, but who’s changing it?” As she says the words, she glances over to the counter and then back to me. “I have a couple of theories.”

  I pinch her arm hard. “Stop looking over there, Fran. He’s going to think we’re talking about him.”

  “Oh yes, things are changing all right.” Her whole face smiles. “You may not be ready to admit it, but that’s okay. I can tell you this, Gabby Willis; I’ve seen more genuine smiles from you recently than I’ve seen in a long time. So, whatever or whoever is putting those smiles on your face, I’m rooting for them. She pats my hand and gives me one of her sincere, loving smiles. “Now, getting back to Dane, if you’re kicking his hot ass to the curb, can I pick him up and dust him off?”

  We burst into laughter so loud, customers turn to stare. “Fran, you’re unbelievable!”

  Fran and I say our goodbyes and I feel Brad’s eyes follow me as we walk out the door. This time I don’t look back.

  ***

  Fran’s words of wisdom seem to be invading my thoughts a lot lately. I laugh out loud; she wants my leftovers. Well, she can have them, and gladly. I’m feeling a bit more confident today and know I have to call Dane. I need to face what happened last week, but I also need to get him Robby’s new design plans for his apartment. Above all else, I have a job to do.

  On my lunch break, I pull myself up from my chair, which I now seem to be stuck to, and head over to a small conference room. I peek inside and when I don’t see anyone, walk in and close the door behind me. I dial Dane’s number, feeling pretty confident. He answers after three rings. “Hey Dane, it’s Gabby. Listen, I want to apologize for leaving the way I did the other night.”