by Alicia Rades
I allow myself to get lost in him without bothering about his personal life the way I expect the same from him.
The walk seems to take forever, and his apartment is farther from the restaurant than mine is. By the time he stops, my feet are already aching from my heels.
“Well, this is it,” he says as he sticks his hands in his pocket and shrugs his shoulders up to his ears. Is he nervous? Why?
“I had a really great time tonight,” I give him the cliché.
“Me, too,” he agrees as he charms me with a half-smile while looking down at me. Jacob is a lot taller than me, but he’s comfortably taller than me with my heels on.
“Which one are you in?” I ask, gesturing toward the building and not yet wanting to leave.
“Apartment 202. Easy enough to remember.” He bites his lip for a moment, stalling the conversation. “Would you possibly agree to another date?” His eyebrows raise with hopefulness.
I can’t contain my excitement. “I’d love to!”
“Awesome,” he lets out a breath and lowers his shoulders. “Are you busy Saturday?”
“I’m free all day,” I say with a big grin that I can’t seem to control, and I silently scold myself for acting like a 16-year-old girl. Calm down, I tell myself, but it doesn’t do any good.
“Let’s make a day out of it, then. How does 10:00 a.m. sound?”
Holy crap. An entire day with Jacob? I may not know him very well yet, but I am more than willing to accept his offer and enjoy his company once again. Still, a voice in the back of my mind scolds me for being so excited about this. Do I really want to get close to a guy like this? Is it worth it?
But he doesn’t know who you are! another voice screams in my head. That has to count for something.
“Sounds great.” I pause for a moment. “Where?”
“I’ll pick you up. Juliet already gave me your address. You know, for work emergencies.”
We both stand silently for a minute, not wanting to take our eyes off each other.
Kiss me. Kiss me, I plead in my head as my eyes shift around his face, landing upon his lips, up to his eyes, and then back to his lips. His eyes are scanning my face in the same manner. Kiss me.
Jacob closes the distance between our bodies, and as he comes closer, I can’t help but inhale his scent. My God, he smells glorious. Like a . . . Well, he smells like the damn-fine sexy man he is.
He’s close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off his body now, and my head momentarily goes dizzy as I breathe in his magnificent aroma. Does he just smell amazing, or is this what all guys smell like when you get up close?
I see him watching my lips, and my heart races to keep up with the butterflies dancing around in my stomach.
Do it already, I beg in my mind, hoping that some of my pleading finds its way to my eyes. Is he testing me? Seeing if I want the kiss? Please, just don’t turn away now. Stop teasing me and kiss me!
My head is tilted up at him, my eyes locked on his lips, and my own lips are quivering in anticipation. Jacob leans down, and our lips connect. Suddenly, an intense flame ignites in my abdomen, and the butterflies in my stomach begin dancing to a new tune, a wilder, more upbeat tempo.
Jacob’s lips are as soft as they look, and to my surprise, he does taste as sweet as the French silk pie we had in the restaurant. Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck, and I let myself melt into him. Returning the gesture, he gently places his arms around me and pulls me in closer. My skin burns, particularly near the area where his lips are touching mine, and a strange, warming sensation finds its way between my thighs. My God. This guy is turning me on.
I carefully entwine my fingers into his hair, and he does the same to me, massaging my scalp. Unwillingly, I let out a soft moan and part my lips. His tongue moves inside my mouth, and this part of him tastes even sweeter than his lips. We press our bodies together.
Is a first date kiss supposed to be this passionate? I wonder. It doesn’t seem to matter the answer because I find myself responding to him in a way that makes me feel like I understand all of his intentions. It’s like we both know just how far we’re both willing to go.
He pulls away from me gently—and far too soon—with his eyes still closed. Letting out a breath, he opens them as a grin forms across his face.
Only then do I have a moment to fully process what just happened. Did that just happen? I can hardly believe it. A kiss like that isn’t supposed to happen on a first date, is it?
“I really do have stuff to do tomorrow,” he utters, and I know that the passionate moment is over even though my blood is still flaming with desire. Still, I’m a little shocked that a kiss like that isn’t leading to an invite up to his apartment.
“I totally understand,” I tell him, although I really didn’t want to leave him. Now that I’ve tasted him, I want more.
“I’ll see you on Saturday,” he promises, and he leans down to give me one more peck before turning toward his apartment. I watch him leave, and before he enters the door to his building, he gives me a wave and a gentle smile. “Tell Juliet thanks for setting us up.”
“I will,” I promise.
Once he disappears, I turn to head back toward my own apartment, and I’m beaming with satisfaction. Even in my heels, I give a skip of excitement. I can’t place why I’m so happy. If anything, I should be more wary of things going so well. The fact that I had a good time with a guy who doesn’t know who I am, however, outweighs my innate response to push him away.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Juliet, I chant in my mind.
7
When I arrive home, Juliet is in the living room and has her painting supplies out. A large piece of plastic is spread across the floor under her, and an art easel with an unfinished painting stands on top of that, brush in her hand. I wonder if she’s still awake so that she can ask me about my date or if she has actually lost herself in her painting. I’m guessing it’s the former.
When I walk through the door, her face immediately lights up and she sets her brush down, watching me. “So, how’d it go? Did you like him?”
I certainly don’t want to admit that Juliet was right, but I can’t hide my pleasure. Trying to mask my exhilaration¸ I force the smile off my face. My muscles fight back at me, and the corners of my mouth quiver as my face flames.
“It was good,” I shrug, trying to act indifferent, but Juliet sees straight through me.
“Good?” she asks, not believing my words. “Siobhan, you’re glowing. You like him.”
I can’t fight my body anymore, and my grin escapes my grasp. “Yes. Yes, Juliet. Thank you.” Although I’m smiling, I try not to let too much enthusiasm escape with my tone, but I’m not entirely sure that I succeed.
“I told you,” she boasts. “So, will there be a second date?”
I blush. “We’re spending Saturday together,” I admit to her.
She raises her eyebrows. “Luckily for you, I won’t be home until late Saturday night, so you’ll have the place to yourself for a while.”
“What?” I squeak, shocked at her offer. “Where will you be?”
“I have a huge project I’m working on. I’ll be at the gallery on Saturday.”
I know what Juliet is doing, and I glare at her in disbelief. “Doesn’t Jacob have to help you with your project?”
“No, I’m going solo on this one.”
I’m not sure if I believe her, and I silently accuse her of coming up with this project just now. Is she doing this because she thinks I need to get laid? I haven’t been that ornery lately, have I? I momentarily wonder if Juliet has a selfish underlying motive to this, but I shake it off. She is a good friend. Perhaps she really is concerned for my well-being.
“Well, I’m tired,” I announce. I turn to my bedroom with tired eyes, but then I remember something. “Juliet, Jacob told me to tell you thanks for setting us up.”
She grins at me, and I escape the room before she can start asking me details
and making me describe our intimate kiss in detail. I was brave enough to kiss a guy I barely know. Well, perhaps kiss isn’t the right word. Make out is probably more accurate. Still, I do not have the courage to dish the details to Juliet, especially because I’m sure she’ll use them against him at work and embarrass him or something.
In my room, I remove my heels and dig my toes into the soft carpet, enjoying the feeling of freedom on my feet. I slip off my dress, and without bothering with pajamas, I remove my contacts, turn off the light, and lie in bed in just my undies, covering myself with my blanket for comfort. Completely relaxed, I relive the kiss over and over, allowing the fluttering in my stomach to continue without repressing it until I fall asleep.
When I wake, I almost believe that the previous night was a dream, but as my eyes focus and fall upon my dress and heels strewn lazily on my floor, I realize that it was real. This makes my heart jump, and my mind runs through the details of the date once again, trying to memorize Jacob’s face and burn it into my memory.
I remove my undies and place them in my hamper. Grabbing my towel off the back of my computer chair, I wrap it around me and head toward the bathroom. I decide to be daring today and make a bit of change to my morning routine by plugging the drain and filling the tub instead of letting the shower cascade over me.
I pour a bit of bubble bath under the faucet and swish the water around until the bubbles rise to an appropriate height. Stepping into the tub, I immerse myself in the water, and the heat feels refreshing on my skin. I let my body completely relax, taking in the fresh scent of lavender. I close my eyes.
Behind my lids, Jacob smiles at me, and I let myself daydream until the bubbles dissipate and my skin becomes pruned. Realizing how long I’ve been bathing, I finally wash my body and get out of the tub.
After I dry off and get dressed, I sit down at my computer and prepare to work. Instead of accomplishing anything, however, I end up losing track of time, realizing that I’ve been staring at the screen for nearly 20 minutes without making any progress.
My phone begins singing at me, making me jump. Who could that be? I have to get up and dig it out of my purse, which is across the room on my dresser. I look at the caller ID and see it’s my sister, Mackenzie.
“Hello,” I answer, and she screeches back in my ear. There are no words coming from her mouth, just an earth-shattering shriek of excitement. I pull the phone away from my face and stare at it, afraid it might be broken.
When she regains her composure, she again shouts into the phone. “Siobhan, I’m getting married!” she squeals.
I know what I would normally be feeling right now. If she had called me any other day, I would be cursing the universe for blessing my sister with breasts and a man. I would be pissed that my sister, who is four years younger than me, found a man before I did.
But today, I don’t feel any of that. I put on a genuine smile and congratulate her. “Mackenzie, that’s incredible!”
“I know,” she squeals again.
I look at the clock. “It must be really early in L.A. How come you’re calling me now? When did he propose?”
“Like 10 minutes ago,” she raves with full enthusiasm. “Derek proposed this morning before I could leave for work—it’s our anniversary—and I’m too excited to go in to work today. I’m engaged! Siobhan, it was so romantic. He made me breakfast in bed and got down on his knee and everything!” She shrieks in excitement again.
“Congratulations,” I tell her genuinely, and right now, I’m not jealous that my little sister is engaged. I happen to have a man in my life right now, too. Kind of. Well, enough to make me happy for her. I don’t tell her this because I don’t want to steal her thunder.
“Well, I have tons of other people to call. Mom and I are going to look at dresses sometime this week, so I’ll text you some pictures, but you have to promise not to share it with Derek. And just so you know, the wedding is going to be in December sometime. We want to get married before the end of the year.”
“Okay, well thanks for calling me, Mackenzie,” I say, and I’m silently laughing at her for thinking that I would show a picture of the dress to Derek. I hardly know the guy and only met him at Christmas last year when I went to visit my family in L.A. I don’t even have his number.
“No problem. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
“Bye,” I say and hang up.
I’m happy for my little sister, and I’m relieved that her announcement doesn’t piss me off because I’m already distracted today.
8
I attempt to get back to work after Mackenzie’s phone call, but it becomes increasingly difficult with the thoughts of a wedding in my mind. Without success, I put my work aside and let my feelings run free by updating my blog.
Thursday June 11
What is Love? I’d Really Like to Know.
By Siobhan Spencer
Love. It’s a word so full of emotion, yet people tend to abuse the term far too often. People throw it around like it’s a basketball, tossing it to the floor, sharing it between others, and throwing it in the air. Is this fair to love? That’s not how it was designed.
Then again, what do I know? I’ve never been in love before. Sure, I’ve shared intimate moments with men, but did I love them? No, I did not.
Perhaps that’s what makes me qualified to talk about the subject. I’m not speaking from experience. I’m speaking from the point of an observer, and since so many spectators feel that they can’t talk on the subject, it seems that the only perspective people ever get is from the people who have fallen in love, or rather believe that they’re in love.
But there’s something that you don’t see from their point of view. When people fall in love—at least from what I’ve seen—they tend to fall into a trap that I will refer to as “Love Vision.”
People who are in love just can’t see past their feelings even though there’s so much more going on around them. But those of us who haven’t fallen in love can see past that, and that’s why we should be the ones talking about it.
But what exactly do I have to say about the subject?
The thought of romance has been swimming in my mind since last night, which, I’ll admit, was my first date in nearly two years. Yes, I’m a loser. But that’s not the point.
I’m not saying that I’m in love by any means. After all, I just met the guy. Am I hoping that this will go somewhere? Perhaps. So with this man’s smile in my mind and the recent announcement of my sister’s engagement, I wonder about love. What is love?
Is it the butterflies in your stomach? Is the burning sensation that races through your veins when you share a first kiss? Is it the fact that you can’t get him out of your mind?
I’m trying to examine the subject, but I don’t have an honest answer. As an observer, the only conclusion that I’ve come to is that love is different for everyone.
If I had to define it, I would say that love is an extreme sense of pleasure, but the cause of this pleasure and the level at which one feels this pleasure is never the same from person to person.
Love . . . What is love? I’d really like to know.
I reread the post, satisfied with my words. When I blog, I try to keep my words honest without editing myself too much, and I write posts based on whatever’s on my mind. I tend to get really great responses from my followers, too, which is one of the reasons I love blogging. My followers always come to me with even more advice, and it helps me understand my thoughts and issues better.
I place my cursor over the publish button. As I press down on my mouse, I wonder why I’m able to freely share my mind, unedited, with readers across the world, yet I tend to hide parts of myself when I come face-to-face with real people. I press publish anyway.
When Juliet arrives home from work, she doesn’t waste any time barging into my room, sitting on my bed, and beginning her inquisition. I can tell that she’s been dying to get the details since last night, but since I escaped with my excuse of exhau
stion and I didn’t wake up before she went to work, this is her first opportunity.
“Dish,” she commands. “Jacob was all smiles and bubbly today at work. What exactly happened last night?”
A thought crosses my mind before I answer. Perhaps her motivation in this relationship has to do with Jacob instead of me and she thought he was the one who needed to get laid.
I know I can’t keep anything from her for long. I swivel my computer chair around to look at her. “We just kissed,” I tell her, trying once again to act casual without success. “It was no big deal.”
“No big deal?” she squeaks. “Siobhan, I’ve never seen a smile that big form across your face in all the years I’ve known you.
I suddenly realize that I am grinning as I replay the kiss in my mind.
“Well, he’s a really good kisser,” I admit.
“Did anything else happen?” Her voice is a bit higher than normal.
“No, Juliet. We just talked and he kissed me goodnight. That’s it.”
She doesn’t seem to believe me. “You’re no fun.” She frowns, and I can tell that she was hoping for a bit more flame to my story. “Well, you two obviously like each other.”
“Well, the date did go well. I mean, we’re spending time together again on Saturday.” I stare down at my hands, once again trying to mask my smile. She must not know how successful she was in this, I tell myself.
"How was the date overall?”
“It was a bit awkward at first,” I admit, remembering how I didn’t know what to say to him. “But after dessert arrived, we couldn’t stop talking. I guess I’m just really comfortable around him.”
