by E. M. Abel
I reached over to grab one of the throw pillows on my couch, and I began to hug it. Man, this guy is good!
“Well, if you’re free later, maybe I can help you with that.”
“Now, you’re reading my mind. How about an early dinner? I can pick you up around five thirty?”
“Five thirty sounds great.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Okay.” I stayed on the line, waiting to see if he had hung up, but I couldn’t hear anything.
“Asia, you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Bye, beautiful.”
Just when I thought my smile couldn’t get any bigger, I was proven wrong. I hugged the pillow closer to my chest, squeezing it so hard that I was afraid it might pop.
“Bye.”
As I hung up the phone, my face felt like it was on fire. I fell back and stretched out my body on the couch, looking up at my white ceiling. This was one of the best days I’d had in years, and it was only noon. Calm down, Asia. Too good to be true remember?
I did this to myself every time. Once things started going well, I would always find a way to convince myself that it wouldn’t last. The part that would bother me the most was that I would usually be right. My insecurity around men hadn’t been created all on my own. I had help, and that help had come from my first love, Marcus—the guy I lost my virginity to.
He was Shaun’s best friend, and Shaun still didn’t know that Marcus and I had been together. Marcus was the ultimate, untouchable bad boy, and to call him hot wouldn’t do him justice. He was in a league all his own.
It hadn’t been just about his looks—although his looks had played a very big part. Marcus had an air of confidence about him. During a time when everyone wanted to be accepted, tried to prove themselves, and cared about what others thought, Marcus couldn’t have cared less.
He hadn’t acted like he was better than anyone else even though most people thought he was. Marcus just hadn’t given a shit about anything really. Doing only what he wanted to do, he had seemed fearless.
Our dads had met and become close when they served as Marines together. They had kept in touch, and when my dad retired and moved to Virginia, Marcus’s dad had followed suit two years later.
Marcus was an only child, and they had moved to town when I was thirteen. Soon after that move Marcus’s world had fallen apart.
His dad had served as an officer on tour in Iraq right after 9/11. To this day, I still didn’t know all the details, but I knew Marcus’s dad had died in a roadside bomb exactly ten days before he was due home.
Marcus’s mom had been beyond devastated. She’d thought she had escaped the fate that she watched so many other military wives endure. She had been busy planning a vacation while making their new house a home when the men in uniform walked up to her front door, shattering all those dreams. She’d crumbled and turned to alcohol, using it to numb the pain, numb everything. That was when Marcus had changed.
Name it, and Marcus had done it. He’d boosted cars, sold drugs, street raced, fought, gotten arrested, and spent a lot of time in juvie. He hadn’t calmed down until my dad became more involved in his life.
My dad had known what had been going on with Marcus’s mom, and after multiple failed attempts to get her help, he’d decided to help Marcus in a different way. He’d let Marcus stay with us whenever he wanted, and my dad had been there for Marcus every time he needed him, no matter what.
Marcus had respected it, and after a while, he’d accepted it. He had stopped getting into so much trouble, and he’d started focusing on skateboarding. He had a gift. He could learn tricks in a few hours when it took the rest of us days or weeks, and since he was fearless, he’d never held back.
This also meant that I’d spent a lot of time around Marcus. He was my brother’s best friend, and my dad had taken him in, so as much as I hated it, Marcus had seen me as a little sister. At least, that was what I’d thought.
I remembered the times I had listened to my brother and all his friends talk about their latest exploits with other girls in school. They had always shared every detail, and as a result, I’d ended up knowing way more about sex and our student population than I’d ever really wanted to.
Marcus hadn’t shared any stories, and I had felt grateful that he didn’t. I’d known he was experienced, but I had not wanted to know any more than that. It had been hard enough watching girls hang all over him every day.
At an after-party on prom night, I had smoked some weed and bonged some beers with the guys. When I was really drunk, I’d gotten into a fight with Shaun. Apparently, he’d been annoyed with me because I always ended up where he was.
Crying, I’d gone out to the back of the house, only to find Marcus there. When he saw me, I’d tried to walk away. He’d been the last person I’d wanted to see while I was upset, but he had caught up to me and given me a hug. Marcus had been so nice and consoling, and I hadn’t expected it at all. He’d wiped the tears away from my cheek, and before I knew it, we’d started kissing.
I wasn’t sure if it had been the alcohol, my need to get back at my brother, the major crush I had on Marcus, or maybe it had been everything, but I’d lost my virginity to him that night, becoming just another virgin giving it up after prom.
The image of Marcus lying next to me in bed flooded my mind— his eyes, his kiss, his hands on my trembling body. He had been so gentle, and kissed me with such passion.
“Are you okay?” he whispered in my ear as I gasped, feeling his body invading mine.
He was big, so it hurt. He made sure to take his time, and he made me feel special. The way he looked at me had me fooled into thinking he wanted more from me than just my body.
For the first time, I saw him without the coldness in his eyes. It was just him, and he was beautiful. I actually thought he was letting me in, but I was wrong.
When we were done, Marcus left, and I was devastated. I cried myself to sleep. I felt like I had lost a part of myself that I would never get back, and I had lost it to a guy who wasn’t even mine.
After that night, I wasn’t sure how to act around Marcus anymore, so I stayed away from him. About two weeks later, Marcus found me smoking a joint on the side of the school.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he asked as he sat down on the ground next to me.
I shrugged and looked out at the trees in front of us. We were quiet for a while before he spoke again.
“You mean a lot to me, you know?”
I turned to Marcus, and his hazel-green eyes were searching mine. He seemed so sincere, and his eyes were so warm that I could feel myself falling deeper in love with him with each passing second.
Before I could think of what to say, Marcus leaned toward me and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Then, he kissed me. It left me confused, wondering if maybe he wanted to be more than just friends, but instead of asking, I just gave myself to him again.
I was addicted to him and the way he made me feel.
Hailey had tried to warn me to stay away from Marcus, but it’d seemed like every time I tried, he would come back for me. We’d had sex three times after that.
In the summer after he graduated, he’d announced that he was moving to California to chase his dream of becoming a pro skater. My heart had been broken, and it was then that I’d realized I was just another notch on his belt. It’d hurt me a lot. I had given him my heart, and he hadn’t even realized it.
Deep down, I’d known he would break my heart, but the way he had made me feel, the way his attention had made me feel, had grown into something I’d never felt before, and I’d needed it.
He was my first love and my first heartbreak, and I never saw him again.
After he left, I’d followed his career. When he was in California, he’d made it big and he’d been able to travel the world, doing what he loved. He’d even competed in the X Games, and he had won the gold four years in a row. He had gotten all kinds of sponso
rs. Nike had even designed a shoe for him, and his face had been all over every skate magazine.
I would buy any magazine I saw with his name on it, and I’d kept them all. The last I heard, he’d opened a skate-and-surf shop in Los Angeles, and it was doing really well. There had been rumors that he’d decided to retire, but I didn’t believe them. Marcus had loved skating too much.
That was all in the past though, and I had to remember to keep it there. After having my heart broken, I’d promised myself that I would be more careful.
I just prayed that Jay would be different, and he’d want more from me than just sex.
I called Hailey and gave her all the details about my new crush. Afterward, I ate lunch and did some chores around the apartment.
Around four thirty in the afternoon, I started getting ready for my date with Jay. I wasn’t sure where we would go or what we would be doing, but I figured it was better to be overdressed than underdressed. Thank God I bought more than one outfit yesterday. I made a mental note to give Nick a big hug when I saw him at work.
I finally decided on the yellow Calvin Klein sundress. It had a V-neck, and the top of it was form-fitting, but the skirt was loose and stopped right above my knees. I wanted to just slip on some flip-flops, but I decided against it. Instead, I wore the new wedges Hailey had left behind for me to wear to work.
Luckily, my hair was still shiny and straight from my day at the spa, so I decided to pull it back into a French braid before taking a shower.
After I washed my face, I was preparing to use some of my new makeup. I stared into the mirror, giving myself the usual once-over. The same face from the day before was looking back at me, but this time, I saw myself in a more positive light. Why does it take a man’s attention to make me see anything good about myself? I shook my head and chose not to dwell on it.
By the time I was done applying my makeup and covering myself in lotion, I checked my phone. It was 5:05 p.m. The day had seemed to fly by, but I knew the next twenty-five minutes were going to drag.
I figured I’d straighten up my room just in case Jay might want to come in this time. As I made my bed, I saw a stack of my paintings leaning against the far wall. I picked them up and laid them down on my bed one by one.
Each one meant something different to me. They all represented a different time in my life, a different emotion I’d felt. I could remember exactly what I was feeling when I had painted them.
Painting was my therapy. When I was in the seventh grade, my father had bought an art set for me, and after that, I had spent all my spare time locked in my room, painting or drawing. It had come easily to me, and I would get a lot of compliments on my work.
Despite my better judgment, I’d decided to major in art at college. My dad had said I should get a degree in something more useful, something that would better help me in finding a stable job, but I couldn’t imagine spending four years in accounting or business management classes.
Art was my life. It was my passion. I’d thought my dad was just being a jerk, but later, I decided he was right. Since graduating from a state college with a bachelor’s degree in art, I’d been stuck working at a local printing company, designing brochures and fliers, because I was too scared to actually chase my dream.
Just as I was putting my last painting back against the wall, I heard a knock at the door. I quickly looked at my alarm clock—5:29 p.m. I ran into the bathroom to make sure everything was in place. I smoothed out my hair, made sure my dress looked okay, and smelled my armpits to make sure my deodorant was still working. Okay, girl, here we go.
When I opened my door, Jay was standing there in a dark blue polo shirt, a pair of khaki pants, and brown leather flip-flops, holding a dozen red roses. He gave me his big beautiful smile as he slowly looked down my body, studying my dress.
“You look amazing.”
His words made me blush, and I glanced down at my feet.
“Thank you.”
My eyes went to his feet. I slowly looked at his pants and then to his shirt. I noticed how it clung to his chest and arms, accentuating every muscle and exposing the tiger tattoo on his forearm.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said as I gazed into his deep blue eyes. Man, I missed those eyes.
It looked like he had gotten a haircut. He already had short hair, but now, it appeared trimmed and edged up on the sides. His dark shirt made his blue eyes stand out even more.
“These are for you.” Ha handed me the bouquet of roses.
“More?”
“A woman can never have too many roses.” He smiled.
“Well, thank you. They’re beautiful.” After I took them, I inhaled their scent and they smelled amazing. “My favorite color,” I said, grinning back at him. “Come on in. Let me put these in water, and then I’ll grab my shoes.” I turned around and walked toward the kitchen.
I quickly scanned the apartment, wondering what impression it would give him. It was pretty sparse and actually looked kind of dull.
“Hailey just moved out, so I haven’t really had time to redecorate,” I lied, trying to make an excuse for the drab surroundings. “You can have a seat if you want. I’ll be right back,” I called to him as I went into the kitchen to grab my scissors.
When I came back, Jay was looking at a picture on my bookshelf. It was a photo of me in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a white tank top with a trucker’s hat on backward, standing in the middle of my brothers with my arms draped across their shoulders while sticking out my tongue. Man, why didn’t I move those pictures?
“My brothers,” I muttered as I put my flowers down on the dining room table. I started to cut the tissue paper wrapped around the roses, and then I took off the rubber bands that had been holding the flowers in place.
“You look different in this picture. Was it taken a long time ago?”
“About five years ago, I think.” Wow, has it really been that long? I didn’t think I looked that different from the picture besides the clothing and the lack of makeup, but I guess Jay had only seen me in my work clothes and my new wardrobe.
I began to worry that he didn’t like the way I looked in the picture. Surely, he was okay with the fact that I wasn’t a typical girl who pranced around in dresses and high heels all day. Although, how would he know that? He had seen my tattoo, and he’d even helped bandage my wound from when I punched a guy in his club, but I could see how I might have given him the wrong impression. What if he’s attracted to me for things that aren’t really me at all? I glanced down at my sundress, feeling like a fake.
After putting the new roses in the same vase with the others, I headed to my room to put on Hailey’s shoes. They were a little high, but they were a lot easier to maneuver than the heels I had worn the night before.
When I walked back into the living room, I noticed Jay was sitting in the middle of my couch with his arms spread across the back cushions. He was looking around, taking in his surroundings. When he heard my footsteps, he peered over his shoulder, glancing down at my shoes before moving his eyes back up to mine. He was smiling at me again, and it made my butterflies come back. He didn’t have to say anything at all. Something about the way he watched me made me want to melt.
“So, where are we headed?” I asked, trying to distract myself from my overwhelming desire to straddle him on my couch.
“You’ll see. Are you ready?”
“Yep.”
I leaned over the side of the couch and grabbed my purse. Jay stood up and walked toward me, reaching out his hand for mine. When I placed my swollen right hand in his, he pulled it to his mouth and kissed the cut on my knuckle.
We walked out of my apartment building, and I saw his Mercedes parked in a spot on the side of the curb. Jay walked over to the passenger door and opened it for me. He offered his other hand for me to hold as I slid down into the seat.
As I reached over my shoulder to grab the seat belt, I looked up at him, and he gave me a devilish grin before he closed
the door. I watched Jay walk around the front of the car and wondered about what he had planned. Whatever it was, I couldn’t wait because it meant spending more time with him.
After Jay opened his door and slid into his seat, he sat back, leaning his head on the headrest, and he turned to face me. We sat there for what felt like minutes, just looking into each other’s eyes.
No one had ever made me feel as beautiful as he did. He made me feel like a woman, like a lady. I wasn’t sure if that was what I was, but it felt nice.
He slowly leaned toward me, keeping his eyes fixed on mine. When I could feel our breaths combining, my heart started beating faster, and I began to feel hot. I closed my eyes, and then I felt his soft warm lips slowly press against mine, causing the butterflies in my stomach to flutter again. Opening his mouth, he licked my bottom lip as his hand reached up to hold the side of my face.
Our delicate kiss quickly became more urgent, and our tongues were intertwining as I moved my hand to hold the back of his neck. The inside of his car transformed into our own little world. I could no longer hear the cars driving by or the world outside. It was only us.
Jay’s hand moved lower to my neck, sending chills down my skin, as I squirmed in my seat. His hand stopped when it reached my shoulder, and after kissing for a few seconds more, he gently pushed me back, separating our lips. We were both breathing hard.
“We have to stop, or I won’t be able to concentrate.” He gave me a flirtatious grin.
Smiling, I took a deep breath, turned in my seat, and smoothed out my dress. Jay grabbed my left knee and gently squeezed it. We smiled at each other before he reached over to push the start button on his dash, making the engine purr. I wondered how it started without a key, but I didn’t ask. I was afraid I’d sound stupid. He put on his seat belt, and then he moved the gearshift, easing his car out into the street.
“So, how long have you lived here?” I inquired, breaking the silence.
