Love Love

by Beth Michele

  ***

  It’s Saturday night, and the Sky Bar is packed like sardines in a can, and it almost smells the same. The music is blaring. People are practically having sex on the dance floor. Get a room. I get on my tippy toes and try to spot Fran and Kyle, but it’s hard to see over all the giant heads. I hear a voice calling me and follow the direction of the sound. I think I see Fran and Kyle at a table near the bar, holding hands casually and scanning the room for me. Bumping into some guy on the way over to the table, he spills his drink, and I hear him mutter a curse at me.

  “Watch where you’re going.” Like I can even see where I’m going.

  I finally make it over to the table and Fran grabs me and plants a big kiss on my cheek, then I hug Kyle. “Let’s sit closer to the door, otherwise Dane won’t be able to find us.” That’s assuming he doesn’t stand me up again.

  Fran, of course, eyes him the moment he walks in the door, and elbows me-hard. Watching Dane’s eyes scan the room is like watching a wild animal searching for its next meal. His eyes finally settle on me and he gives me that panty-dropping smile. Unfortunately for him, I don’t want to drop my panties anymore. He reaches me quickly, and when he does, pulls me into a kiss. A long, deep kiss. The kind of kiss that other people shouldn’t be seeing; the kind that I’m trying to avoid. I make to pull away from him quickly and notice Fran appears to be gasping for air, while Kyle looks turned on. They’ll be rushing home for hot sex in a minute, I just know it.

  “Dane, you already know Fran. This is Fran’s boyfriend, Kyle.”

  He greets Kyle in his all-business demeanor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Kyle eyes Dane up and down, protectively, taking in his finely-tailored suit and tie and his outrageously expensive Berluti leather shoes. “Likewise.”

  Dane goes to the bar to get a round of drinks for all of us. Kyle looks over to me with a huge grin. “Gabby, have you seen this girl play Scrabble? She beat the pants off of us again last night.”

  Interesting choice of words. “I heard something about that, Kyle, and you must have some sort of magic up your sleeve, because I’ve never been able to get her to play Scrabble in the entire fifteen years we’ve been friends.”

  Kyle and Fran make googly eyes at each other and kiss. I’m a bit jealous.

  Dane returns with our drinks; martinis for Fran and I, and gin and tonics for the guys. The conversation is flowing freely and everyone’s getting along. I know Dane and I need to talk, but I’m not ready to do it just yet. I need to get a buzz on to calm my nerves; I might even need to get trashed. Kyle and Dane seem to be hitting it off, which is great because Fran and I have a chance to talk. At some point during our conversation, Fran motions over her shoulder and I wonder what she’s staring at. I follow her gaze and see Brad standing at the bar with a woman. What’s he doing here, and who the hell is that?

  “Gabby, Brad’s here. He’s been here for a while.”

  “I know, I see him.” My stomach flips. I eye the girl. She looks vaguely familiar, with long auburn hair, blue eyes, a tight-fitting dress and a figure to die for.

  “Who’s that chick he’s with? She’s pretty hot.”

  “How the hell should I know?” My tone is biting and I immediately regret it. Fran can pick up the jealousy scent a mile away.

  “Whoa, Gabby. Get a grip. You’re not dating or anything.”

  A knot forms in my stomach and I need to find the bathroom, fast. I might just throw up again. This is becoming a habit around Brad. It’s so freaking crowded in here and I have to push through a maze of intoxication, sweat, and ass grabbing to get there. Thankfully my legs are moving quickly and I’ve almost reached my destination when I feel a hand catch my elbow. I spin around like a top and practically knock someone over.

  “Gabby. Hey.”

  Just that simple touch makes me tremble. “Hey, Brad. I’m in a hurry, what do you want?” I feel my whole body tense up at my harsh words.

  Brad looks slightly offended and I suddenly feel bad. “I just wanted to say hi. I had the night off tonight so I came out for some drinks.”

  Even though I already know the answer, I ask the question. “You here by yourself?”

  “No, I’m here with Erica from work.” He waves a hand at her standing at the other side of the bar, and then eyes me curiously. A bead of sweat forms at the corner of his brow and he reaches up to swipe it away. The touch of his fingers causes his hair to sway. And there it is, a crinkle. Right smack in the middle of his damn forehead.

  I don’t know how I never noticed it before. My breathing picks up, and suddenly the walls are closing in. I'm pushing against them with all my might, but they won't move, so I need to. “Let me go, Brad.”

  "Gabby, what is it? What’s wrong?"

  "Nothing. Just let me go.”

  I’m feeling the need to stomp my feet, cry, or hit something. I crash into several people on the way to the bathroom, but I don’t care. Pushing open the door, I scan the room and am relieved to find it empty. I pace the length of the pee-stained tile floor; back and forth, back and forth. He has a freaking crinkle on his forehead! What the hell?! I suppose he also enjoys picking up super absorbent tampons in his spare time, too. I kick my heel firmly into the back of the stall door. Damnit!

  I have to get out of here now; I can hardly breathe and I need air desperately. I finally find a path back to the table and lean over to Fran. “Hey, I’m leaving.”

  “Are you okay?” Fran whispers, making to stand.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I know I sound less than convincing.

  I hear her mutter under her breath and she pulls me away from the table; away from Kyle and Dane, who didn’t even notice I was gone. “The hell you are. Talk to me, Gabby. Is this about Brad?”

  “I just want to go, Fran.” I’m edgy, bordering on whiny.

  “Gabby, listen to me. Brad’s been staring at you all night. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. He may be here with someone else, but he’s barely noticed her. You may not want to hear this, but I think he’s into you. I saw the way he was looking at you at his shop. It couldn’t be more obvious.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Gabby. This is me you’re talking to, and you can’t pull this shit with me. I see the way he looks at you, and that’s not how you look at a friend. It’s not just that, either. You’ve been different, too.” She sighs and puts her hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look in her eyes. “It’s okay, you know. It’s okay to let yourself be happy.”

  I shake her hands away and then, slowly and very casually, look over my shoulder. Our eyes meet. Brad’s been watching me. Immediately, I look away and resume my conversation with Fran. Somewhere, deep down, I know she’s right. I’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s becoming impossible.

  I can’t stay here. “Fran, I want to go.”

  “Kyle and I will come with you if you want, and I mean that.”

  “No, you guys stay. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.” I give Fran and Kyle each a hug, and walk over to Dane. He’s been practically ignoring me anyway, first talking to Kyle and now to his female colleague from the ad agency, who’s apparently joined our table.

  I place one hand on my hip. “Dane, I’m leaving.”

  “What? We just got here.” He’s caught completely off guard.

  I breathe deeply. “I just want to go.”

  “Okay, then I’m coming with you.”

  Really? Why bother? My panties are off limits. “Fine.”

  Dane says his goodbyes to his colleagues and follows me out of the bar. I feel him trying to keep up with me as my feet hit the pavement with long, quick strides. When I look over at him, confusion covers his face. The same confusion that I feel.

  He stops suddenly, grabs my shoulders, and turns me around. “What’s going on, Gabby? What’s wrong? I don’t understand. The nights we’ve spent together over the last several months have been…well, amazing. But the past couple of
weeks, you seem distant and distracted. You ignored my calls all weekend, and tonight we’ve barely spoken at all.”

  Unsure of what to say, I just lift my shoulder and stare at him blankly. I know it’s not good enough. It’s also not fair to Dane. “I’m just tired, and I want to go home.”

  Hesitantly, Dane reaches for my hand. “Can I come with you?”

  I really don’t want to hurt his feelings, but that’s the last thing I want. I need to be alone. “Can we talk tomorrow, Dane? Right now I want to go home. I just want some time to myself.”

  Dane nods with understanding, and at that moment, I see a flicker of something I can appreciate about him. “Let me at least hail you a cab.”

  I’m in no mood to fight with him. He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips and helps me into the taxi.

  My mind is racing and so is my heart. If I was in a cartoon, steam would be leaving my head right now. Picking at the dirty leather on the seat of the taxi, I just keep shaking my head. It’s all I can do. It feels like someone’s playing a cruel joke on me, only the problem is, it doesn’t feel so cruel. It kind of feels like fate.

  My phone buzzes, and it startles me. I don’t want to answer it, but when I see it’s Brad, I can’t help but smile. Why the hell am I smiling? I’m mad at him!

  “Gabby? It’s Brad.”

  “I know who it is,” I reply with a bit more anger than I’d intended.

  “Are you okay?”

  He sounds genuinely concerned, which only increases my guilt. “Yes, I’m fine, why?”

  “You seemed upset with me earlier. Did I do something? You left without even saying goodbye, and before…” His voice trails off, and he sounds hesitant, as if weighing something over in his mind.

  “Before what?”

  “Before I could ask you to dance.”

  Did he say dance? “What?”

  “I wanted to dance with you.”

  “With me? What about your date?” I can’t help the sarcastic drip in my voice.

  “Erica wasn’t my date. She’s my friend. She works with me at the shop.”

  “She’s pretty,” I say reluctantly, because it’s true.

  “Yes, she is; very. But she’s just a friend.”

  A temporary feeling of relief floods my body.

  “Where are you?” he asks, his voice anxious and demanding at the same time. A side of him I haven’t seen.

  “I told you, I’m in a cab on my way home.”

  “Yeah, but where?”

  I peek out the window. “We’re on Broadway, about to pass Bloomingdale’s.”

  “Okay, can you get out at Bloomingdale’s? I’m on my way there.”

  “What? Wait!” Too late; he already hung up. “Stop the cab!” I’ve always wanted to say that.

  I fumble with my fingers. What am I doing? I’m standing in front of Bloomingdale’s waiting for Brad, that’s what I’m doing. Just when I change my mind and decide to leave, I see him jogging towards me. He’s breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed and muscles flexing underneath his shirt, his wavy brown hair blowing in the breeze. I’m not going anywhere.

  When he finally reaches me, he’s completely breathless. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

  “Brad, what on earth are you doing here?”

  He grabs my hand, his touch making me tremble. “I told you. I want to dance with you.”

  “Here?” I gesture to the crowded New York sidewalk.

  “Why not?”

  It’s confirmed, he’s absolutely insane. “Okay, now I know you’re certifiable.”

  His dimple flashes like a neon sign as he places one hand at the small of my back and laces his fingers through my other hand, bringing it to lay upon his chest. I can feel his heart beating rapidly. He leans in and presses his forehead to mine, so close I feel the warmth of his breath tickle my nose, sending a shiver up my spine. The wisps of his shaggy hair massage my face, and the smell of java mixed with his own scent whisks me away. All the anger has suddenly left my body. I can no longer hear the taxis honking, feel the muggy temperature in the air, or notice the constant rush of people bumping into us and staring. The world has completely fallen away.

  Our bodies sway from side to side and all goes silent except for the soft humming that fills my ears. The hum is oddly familiar, then completely recognizable. Brad’s voice begins to caress me, “’It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder; it's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter…’”

  “Jeff Buckley,” I whisper. “He’s one of my favorites.” I feel him smile against my cheek. When the humming stops, I instinctively pull away and gaze into his sweet brown eyes. Suddenly, I feel vulnerable, like he can see inside my heart, and I’m not sure I’m ready for him to see that much of me. I lean my forehead back against his and enjoy the rest of our very first dance together, silently hoping that it won’t be our last.

  When we finally reach the subway platform, disappointment looms. Brad pauses for a moment and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. I’m not sure if he’s nervous or deep in thought; I can’t put my finger on it.

  “Can I ask you a question?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Are you and Dane exclusive?”

  I have to resist the urge to roll on the ground, grab my stomach, and laugh hysterically. I’m not sure what we are, but we’re definitely not exclusive. “No, we’re not.”

  The curve of a smile touches his lips before he speaks. “Good. So…I was wondering if you’d like to go out tomorrow night?”

  “Go out? You mean like on a date?” I emphasize the last word with a grin.

  Brad shifts his feet. “Yup, a date.” His smile is endearing and I want to accept immediately.

  The problem is, I don’t do dates. Mindless screwing, yeah, that’s what I do. But I can’t tell him that, he’ll think I’m crazy. The thing is, as much as I keep telling myself that, the thought of going on a date with Brad does something to me. “Well, I really don’t do dates.”

  Brad looks at me with a strange expression and I suddenly want to eat my words. “What do you mean you don’t do dates? Aren’t you doing dates with Dane?”

  No actually, I’m just doing Dane. “Not exactly.” Now I’m really embarrassed. I can’t imagine what he thinks of me.

  “Okay. So then we’ll do what we always do. Two friends just hanging out together. I mean, we are good friends, aren’t we?”

  It’s not what I usually do, but that works. “Yes. We are. And yes, I’d like to hang out.”

  The full-on dimpled smile I get after I say yes nearly makes me combust on the sidewalk. “Great! So until tomorrow then?”

  “Yes. Until tomorrow.” He lifts my hands to his face and places a single kiss on the inside of each of my palms.

  As the subway doors close, I’m squealing inside. The earth has suddenly shifted on its axis.

  ***

  I’m in the middle of an amazing dream, full of giant dimples attacking my mouth, when my phone rings the next morning and wakes me up, which stinks because it’s Sunday and I could’ve slept in. When I see who it is, I debate hitting ignore and going back to my fantasy because it’s much better than the reality. The one with my mom. I suck in a breath and pick up the phone. “Hi, Mom,” I exhale.

  Her voice sounds as chipper as ever. “Hi, dear.”

  “What’s up, Mom?” I try to sound somewhat interested.

  “Well, as luck would have it, I’m coming to New York City two weeks from this Saturday for Fashion Week.”

  Who’s luck would that be? I’d rather win the lottery. My nonexistent excitement is blaring. “Great.”

  “I thought we could have lunch together.”

  “Okay. Well, you know I’d ask you to stay here but…”

  “Oh no, I certainly can’t stay in that tiny space you call an apartment. I’m staying at the Waldorf. It’s going to be a busy weekend, but I’m hoping we can manage to squeeze in lunch.”

  She always knows how to win me ov
er with her kind words. “Sure, Mom.”

  “I’ll call you when I get in.”

  “Okay, Mom.” As soon as I hang up, I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I’m rummaging through the medicine cabinet for anything resembling Tums, or even Valium at this point, when I hear the front door latch click. “I’m in the bathroom, Fran!”

  “What are you doing, Gabby? I have to get ready for my date with Kyle,” she whines. “He’s taking me to the Botanical Gardens.”

  “I’m looking for some Tums,” I say, diving into the box of crap under the sink. Nothing’s there either.

  “Let me guess. Patricia Willis is coming to visit.”

  “Ding, ding, ding. You’ve won! You’re going on an all-expense paid solo date with my mom.”

  Fran cackles, then moves past me to turn on the shower. “So when is crazy coming?”

  “Two weeks, so I have time to mentally prepare. Not to see me, of course. It’s for Fashion Week; I’m just a detour.”

  “Well, you can handle that, can’t you? At least it’ll be a quick visit.”

  Fran strips down, reminding me that she wants to shower.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I agree, then sigh, because I’m not so sure everything will be fine.

  She turns the water on and hops in the shower. “So tell me what the hell happened last night.”

  My phone buzzes and I see it’s a text from Brad. I can’t help but smile.

  Brad: Good morning friend

  Me: I see your sense of humor is in full swing this morning

  Brad: :) It’s tomorrow, you know

  Me: Yeah?

  Brad: We have a date…cough, cough. I mean, we’re hanging out tonight

  Me: Yup, hanging out

  Brad: See you tonight. I’ll pick you up at 6

  Me: See you then

  Brad: See you tonight friend