by Poppy Parkes
Derek swallowed hard at the memory, feeling his pulse quicken. What did it mean? he wondered.
After a long moment, he shook his head, flexing both hands into fists and then spreading them open wide. It was just a stupid dream, born of his fears and jealousies, not to mention the rocky start he and Ruth had started off on. It's not like it was a prophecy or anything. It was nothing.
He slipped out of the soft gray sheets of his king sized bed, digging his toes into the plush cream-colored shag rug, stretching and enjoying the cool air of his apartment wafting against his nude body. Heading for the bathroom, he turned the water on extra hot and stepped into the scalding stream, feeling as if the steaming water washed away all vestiges of the dream from his consciousness, leaving him only with the honey-gold feeling of his night out with Ruth.
I don't know how I'm going to get through the day, he thought, lathering his thick, dark hair. The day had barely started, and he already struggled to think of anything more than the next time he'd get to talk to her, to see her, to bury his hands in her luxurious curls. Was it too soon to call at lunchtime? Or this evening, after work?
Screw work. He didn't want to go, even though he knew he had a couple of cases he needed to move on. But he knew he'd be useless in this state.
Derek considered for a moment what it'd be like to have Ruth here with him, in the shower. He was immediately aroused. Closing his eyes, he imagined her wet fingers trailing up along his chest, her lips on his –
Damn. He turned the water temperature to cold for the last few moments of his shower, the freezing jets clearing his head. Fantasizing was not going to help him be patient until their next rendezvous.
Emerging from the shower, he reached for a towel and began to rub his hair dry as he padded back to the bedroom, not caring that he dripped water as he went. Derek made a beeline for his cell phone resting on the bedside table. No missed calls or messages. Sighing, he tried not to feel disappointed, but couldn't manage anything more than a tepid contentment.
Striding to the room's walk-in closet, he fixed his reflection in the mirror hanging on the inside of the door with a steely glare. “You are being ridiculous,” he informed himself. The reflection simply raised a single dissenting eyebrow in disagreement. “Fine,” he continued, “you clearly are not in your right mind. But we are not going to call her until tonight. Deal?”
As he nodded at his reflection, Derek froze, realizing that he was having a full conversation with no one but himself. Man, I really am falling hard for her, aren't I? he thought as he pulled a perfectly pressed lavender buttoned shirt from its hanger.
Glancing at the bedroom's clock, he saw that he had only been awake for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes that felt like an eternity. He sighed. This day was going to be hell if the rest of it passed as excruciatingly slowly as the morning was inching by.
* * *
Two hours later, Derek shook the hand of the client he had been seeing and showed him to the door of his office. Returning to his desk chair, he sank into it with a sigh and stared blankly into middle space. Clenching his jaw, he willed himself not to look at his phone, to check it for messages – well, for a message, from Ruth – he might have missed during his client meeting. But his body overrode his mind and he found his eyes being inextricably drawn to cell phone's face.
He gave in and tapped it into wakefulness, and then sighed even deeper when he saw that he hadn't missed any calls.
Standing up, he turned to face the massive window that spread the full length of his office, looking out over the city. Raking a hand through his hair, he wondered where Ruth was and what she was doing at that very moment. Probably teaching. She'd at least be at school. He knew that much, even though he wasn't quite sure what working as a teacher entailed.
He wanted to call her. He wanted to call her, badly.
Derek picked up his phone and dialed.
“Hey, man.” Ridger's voice came over the other end. “What's up?”
“I'm going insane,” Derek blurted out, thinking he should be embarrassed by how desperate he sounded. I guess I'm too desperate to care, he thought.
“Is it about that chick?”
“Ruth. Yes. We went out last night –”
Ridge interrupted with a whistle. “She gave you another chance? Damn, you are slick.”
“Or just lucky.”
“There's nothing about how you are with women that's lucky, dude. You've got the one night stand down to an art.”
“But I told you, Ruth isn't just another pickup. And we didn't have sex. We went out.”
“You mean . . . on a date?”
“Yeah. Dinner, a show, the whole deal.”
“Wow. I know you said that you were into this girl, but I never, ever thought you'd ever be willing to, you know, be interested in a healthy relationship.”
“So, is it weird that all I can think about is her? About calling her, seeing her, touching her . . . ?”
Silence hung over the line for a moment. Finally Ridger replied. “Derek. Do you know what this means?”
“What?” Worry surged into Derek. Had he done something wrong, some faux pas born of inexperience? He was so unfamiliar with the laws of dating. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd describe myself as inexperienced with women, he thought to himself wryly.
“Dude. I think you're in love.”
“In love?” There it was again. The single syllable that he'd always seen as a four letter word, the worst fate imaginable.
“Or falling in love. That's what it's like, man – she gets into your blood, and everything else just feels like marking time, like trying to survive until you get to see hear her voice again.”
“That's what it is for you with Sandra?” He tried to imagine falling for the caustic woman, and failed.
“Hell yeah. It's a wild ride – and extra wild with Sandra. All that attitude and – well, you know her.”
“Yeah . . .” Derek was barely listening. His mind tumbled and churned, tripping over itself as he tried to put Ridger's words together with his experiences with Ruth. Could he be falling in love? He'd always thought himself immune, ever since his prom night flop with Denise Parker. He liked Ruth. He liked her a lot. But he didn't know if he liked the idea of being emotionally bound to another.
“This is a good thing, Derek,” Ridger said as if he could hear Derek's thoughts.
“Are you sure? I mean . . . women are kind of crazy.”
“Yeah they are,” Ridger snorted. “But it's a good kind of crazy. The kind we weren't meant to live without. Being with Sandra makes me come alive. It makes me more myself.”
“But it's so . . .” Derek grappled for the right word to describe the nauseous feeling twisting at his gut.
“Risky?” his friend finished.
Derek nodded to his faint reflection in his office's window. “Exactly.”
“Dude, everything is risky. Life is risky. Walking down the street is risky, for crying out loud. And sure, giving your heart to a woman is taking a big chance. I get that. But where has playing it safe gotten you?”
Frowning, Derek turned the question over in his mind. He had been feeling so . . . stuck, before he met Ruth. His usual one nighters with a new woman every time had lost their appeal, their excitement. It had become –
He gasped as he realized the word that completed that thought. Boring. His sexual escapades had become boring.
“It's worth it, man,” Ridger was saying. “Even if she breaks your heart, it's worth it. There's a reason why there's so much great music about love. Or pain. Or both.”
“It's worth it,” Derek repeated, as if trying to convince himself. But then he remembered the weight of Ruth's body leaning against his own in the car last night, her curls piling on his shoulder, their breath falling into unison, forming a new rhythm that both comforted and excited him.
That was worth it. Whatever that feeling was, whatever name it could wear – it made the risk, the fear worth it. He felt t
he truth of this deep in his core.
“It is worth it,” he said again, the words carrying power this time.
“Damn straight,” Ridger said, chuckling. “And if what you've said about her is true, this Ruth sounds like she could be the real deal. Don't screw it up.”
“I'm trying not to. I'm trying to do this thing right. Even though I have no idea what that means.”
His friend laughed again. “Welcome to the brotherhood, man. None of us have a clue. Good thing the women who choose us are kinder, and smarter, than we are.”
“So . . . would it be weird if I called her today?” Derek asked. “I mean, I just saw her last night.”
“I say do it. For whatever reason, this woman knows about your past and has decided to give you a shot. I don't think she'll be offended by some doting. And you could always ask her.”
“Ask her?”
“If it's too much. But with any luck, she's feeling something close to what you're feeling.” Ridger paused. “Man, I really hope this works out. I mean, I'm really happy for you. This is huge, you know.”
“I do know,” Derek replied. “It's so insane. But good insane, I think. I hope.”
“It is. You have my solemn oath. Now quit pining and go call her already!”
“Thanks, man,” Derek said, and ended the call. He stared at its face for a moment as it blinked into blackness. Suddenly his belly was buzzing with nerves. Before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly woke the phone and scrolled to Ruth's number and hit the “Send” button.
Lifting the phone to his ear, he cleared his throat as he slid into his desk chair, listening to the monotone ringing, hoping his voice would be steady when he spoke.
A click came over the line. “Derek,” he heard Ruth say, and he felt his heart skip a beat. I didn't know that was a real thing, he thought. He found it surprisingly delightful.
“Hi,” he said, wiping a suddenly clammy palm on his trousers. “I hope I'm not disturbing you.”
“Not at all,” she said, and he thought he could hear a smile in her voice. “I'm glad you called.”
He sighed with relief. “Oh good. I –”
But before he could get another word in, Ruth interrupted. “Derek,” she said, a playful note entering her voice. “Look up.”
He frowned, perplexed by her words, but his eyes obeyed, lifting.
And then it felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach.
She was leaning against the front desk. Ruth. Waving at him with a smile as Jani gaped at him, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Oh,” he managed in a strangled voice.
“Well, can I come in?” she teased.
“What? I mean, yes, of course.” He tripped over his words, practically leaping from his chair, smoothing his tie. “Please.” Hanging up the phone, he went to the door of his office and held it open, watching Ruth move toward him. She wore a loose and billowy cream blouse with black polka dots over skinny jeans and black ballet flats. A glamorous necklace of silver shards gleamed from beneath the flowing folds of the blouse, in pleasing contrast to the casual outfit. Her curls tumbled over her shoulders from a black felt hat with a floppy brim. Derek felt his breath come faster. She looked even more beautiful than she had the night before, if that was possible. Maybe Ridger was right – maybe he was falling in love, against all the odds.
“Hi,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss. He inhaled her now-familiar vanilla scent.
“I missed you,” said Derek, then immediately felt the back of his neck grow red with embarrassment. “I mean –”
“I missed you, too,” she murmured, leaning in close. “In fact, I missed you so much that I got a substitute for my class and headed here to ask you out.”
“Out? Like on a date? Now?” He held his breath, hoping she'd say yes.
“Mmm hmm.” She nodded, eyes glinting. “I mean, if you can. I know you have work and –“
“I'd love to,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back, smiling down at her.
“Really and truly?” she asked, biting her lip and belying the nervousness that lay beneath her sashaying confidence, matching his own nerves.
“Really and truly,” he repeated. “Nothing would make me happier. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I'm absolutely useless here.” Derek gestured at his desk.
“Your boss won't mind?”
“No,” he replied. “As long as I get my cases done and keep bringing in money for the firm, nobody cares what hours I keep. I don't have much going on this afternoon anyway, and my clients won't mind me skipping a day.”
“Excellent,” she said with a grin.
Derek moved to his desk to shut down the computer and sweep a few files into their cabinet, closing it. “I'm ready.”
Ruth extended a hand to him, and he took it, loving the softness of her palm against his own slightly more calloused one. Setting the office door to lock behind them, they headed for the elevator, Jani still staring in an open-mouthed grin.
* * *
They emerged onto the busy downtown Boston street, squinting and smiling at each other in the pleasant shock of warm but wind-laced autumn sunshine.
“What now?” Derek asked. “Can I take you out for some coffee?”
Ruth shook her head, grabbing onto the brim of her hat to prevent the wind from dancing it away. “Nope. It's my turn to take you out.”
“How intriguing,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “But before we go wherever you have in mind . . .”
He leaned in close and kissed her, gentle but insistent, and gave a moaning sigh when he felt her press her lips back against his even harder. She laced her hands up and around his neck, the pair oblivious to the stream of Boston foot traffic flowing around them.
Derek pulled away at last. “I've been wanting to do that since we parted ways last night.”
“Me, too,” she said, arms still twined about his neck.
“I'm glad.” He planted another kiss on the smoothness of her neck just below her jawline, enjoying the gasp the kiss elicited from her. Ruth leaned into him, turning her head so their cheeks rested against each other for a moment. Then she moved away.
“Come on,” she said, catching one of his hands in hers and tugging. Derek followed along her willingly, the way the wind moved the airy polka-dotted blouse about her body mesmerizing.
“You look beautiful,” he said, making her cheeks spot pink for a moment as she grinned at him.
Ruth lead them through the tangled roads of downtown Boston, turning onto Beacon Street. The Common spread out before them, and she pulled Derek onto one of its meandering paths.
“I love coming here when I need a break at work,” he told her.
She nodded, their pace slowing as they meandered along the path. “It's so beautiful. I wish I lived closer to it.”
“Do you like living in Cambridge?” he asked.
Ruth nodded. “Oh yes. It's lovely – close to all this,” she gestured at their surroundings, “but without feeling too overwhelmingly busy. And the school I work at is great, too.”
He fixed her with a shrewd look, squeezing her hand. “There it is again.”
“There's what?” She frowned in confusion.
“The last time you talked about your job . . . you know, before all the insanity we accidentally put each other through,” he said with a snort, “the last time, it sounded like there was a 'but' that needed to follow.”
“Oh, really?” Ruth said, distance entering her voice.
Derek squeezed her hand. “Yes, really. Don't change the subject this time. What's the real reason you don't love your job?”
She sighed, lips pursing for a moment. “It's not the job that's so bad. But . . . it's not me. I thought teaching could be my thing, and while I'm pretty good at it, it's not what lights me up. It's what I do to pay the bills.”
“So what does light you up?”
A long moment passed before she finally replied in a strained voice, as if
the admission took effort. “Writing.” A light blush crept into her cheeks.
