by DW Cee
“What Max was not happy with yesterday morning, was my wavering.”
“I don’t recall you wavering.”
“I didn’t tell you to go to hell, but instead I listened to all you had to offer. And if I were to be honest with myself, I did wonder for a brief second whether or not I could go away with you without Max finding out.” I took a large gulp of this nasty drink. “So, I did more than waver. To Max, I cheated on him.”
“Al mentioned an engagement ring?”
“We don’t know what it was. Becky brought up the possibility that the Tiffany box might have been an engagement ring. It doesn’t matter since I threw it back in his face.”
Donovan busted up laughing. “I love that about you. You can’t hide your feelings...unlike someone I know,” he whispered those last few words.
“I’m going to be completely honest with you.”
“All right.”
“I know I’m being unfaithful to Max again by saying this, but I am attracted to you, or so I believe.”
He laughed. “Thanks. I ditto the sentiment, especially the ‘or so I believe’ part.”
“Since you’ve shown interest, I have wondered if a relationship would be possible with you, easier with you. But, I’ve never ever thought that a relationship would be better with you.”
He didn’t look offended with that remark. “Ditto!”
“What do you mean, ‘ditto?’ You’re not even in a relationship right now so how could you think a relationship would not be better with me?”
He raised his eyebrows and told me I was being stupid with just one glare. “Next...”
“I’m hurt right now. My heart is broken and I don’t know when it’ll mend.” I paused to hear him utter, “Ditto,” but he didn’t make a sound. “I don’t know what to do, or if I should do anything at all, other than shut myself in a room and cry.”
“I’ll be honest with you.” I welcomed his honesty. “I regretted what I did yesterday morning. I shouldn’t have tempted you, I shouldn’t have encouraged you to cheat on your boyfriend, and I’ll be the first to admit that I was an asshole for doing what I did.”
“My brother get a hold of you?”
“Yeah, but as soon as I left your room, I thought this and wanted to kick my own ass for being such a prick.”
“If you are having such regrets, why’d you do it?” Now I was pissed that he made me even think about getting together with him, when he regretted his indecent proposal, immediately.
“Your brother told me I was an immature, selfish, dickhead. And, I think he’s right. I believe I’m attracted to you...”
“You believe???” What the hell happened that made him have this big change of heart?
“You’re hurting. I’m confused. You need time to get over Max. I need time to clear out my head. I see only one solution.”
“And what would that be?”
“I’m not going to be stupid and let go of this opportunity. We both need to satiate this curiosity and be done with.”
Now I was just a curiosity to satiate? Truly, what the hell happened to me being his ‘VIXEN’? “So what do you propose?”
“Let’s date. I’d like for us to go out, have a good time, and see where this may lead.”
“But you and I are both not of sound mind—though I have no idea why you wouldn’t be of sound mind, but whatever...”
“No pressure, Jane. If anything, we’ll have our easy-going friendship to fall back on during this date. What do you say?”
Was it a good idea to break up with one guy at midnight, and date a new guy by noon? If Max and I were to get back together, would I be able to justify dating Donovan? There were so many complicated thoughts going through my head. Aargh!
Stage 4—Consent: “What the hell do I have to lose?”
“Let’s try it.” I agreed. “Where do we go from here?”
“How about a matinee production of The Book of Mormons? Have you seen it before?”
“No.”
“Let’s go watch that. Then we can have a nice dinner, and I can drive you back to Becky’s, get you a room here, or you can stay with me. Your choice. Absolutely no pressure. I’m good with any of your choices.”
I was also good with all that he proposed. There really was no unspoken pressure, no false promises, only the trust of our friendship.
“I need to pick up some clothes in between the show and dinner. I wasn’t intending to leave LA, but after Max pissed me off and went into the terminal, I needed to have an excuse to get to the other side. Sooooo, I rashly bought a first class red-eye ticket to Chicago in order to throw the stupid, possible engagement ring back at his face.”
Donovan smiled, kissed my forehead and led me out to our first real date.
Stage 5—Comfortable: “This is how easy a relationship should be!”
We fell into step and reverted to our effortless friendship, rather than trying to pretend we were a couple. It was too early for that and I wasn’t ready. Though broken, my heart still belonged to Max. Neither of us was into the show. I kept wondering where Max was at this point in the day—whether he got to his location safely, whether he was with Hannah, whether he had thought about me at all. Donovan, too, was in a world of his own. I glanced over at him a few times, and he was a million miles away. He had no idea I was watching him, and he didn’t care. I’d have to ask during dinner what was going on with him.
“You liked the show?” I asked as soon as we got seated outdoors at a trendy restaurant on Michigan Ave.
“Yeah...” he answered noncommittally. “And you?”
Staring into his eyes, I realized something had shifted between us. I could be wrong, but we weren’t the flirtatious, I-gotta-get-in-your-pants, excited about one another. We were the I’ve-known-you-all-my-life, friends sharing a meal and talking about life. Was I wrong about this? Were we not attracted to one another anymore? Had we not been flirting with this idea the last half a year?
I didn’t give him an answer and he wasn’t bothered. Instead, he refilled our wine glasses and put a slice of pizza on my plate and went back to drinking and brooding.
“Okay. I give up. What’s wrong? Are you regretting this decision to ‘date’ me?”
He had to think about the answer, which was not a good sign. Shit! Was I getting dumped twice in a twenty-four-hour period?
“It’s nothing like that. London didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, and I just have a lot on my mind.”
Shit, again! Now I was feeling insecure for some moronic reason. “Kate?” I treaded lightly.
He shook his head no. “Kate’s no more. We have a prudent work relationship now.”
“A prudent work relationship? Is that your way of saying no sex on the expensive office desk, relationship?”
He laughed. It was good to see him laugh. But seriously, why the hell was I trying to cheer him up? Who was the one here with the heartache?
“I don’t think Kate and I’ve had sex since...God! I don’t even know when the last time was when I had sex—with or without Kate.”
“So you’re in a funk because of this dry spell?” I expected some sexual quip or an extended banter but all I got was, “I guess so.”
“How long are you staying?” I tried to make more conversation.
“I don’t know. How long are you staying? I’ll go home with you. We can stay for the weekend or we can take a few days off and stay a bit longer. You want to fly up to Canada?”
“Canada?” That wasn’t even on my radar.
“Toronto, Montreal, Quebec, Ontario are all on this side of the US. You a foodie like your sister-in-law? There’s great food at all these places.”
“I’m not that into food. Emily is the foodie, I’m the shoe-whore, Laney is the clothes-horse, and if I have my niece pegged right, she’ll be everything combined. I love that little girl!” I gushed.
“My goddaughter is something else.” Donovan all of a sudden was in a rush to pay the bill. “Let’s go shop f
or the twins. I saw a cute Chloe dress in a magazine on the airplane. Let’s see if Neiman’s carries it.”
“Only you would know a Chloe from an Oililly,” I said with a smirk. “Lead the way, Mr. Fashionista.”
Shopping for the kids eased our tension, and we were back to the friendly Donovan and Jane “relationship.” Donovan went out of control and bought out the children’s department at Neiman’s. Our lucky little squirt was getting the gamut from Juicy rompers, to a RL pink seersucker retro bathing suit, to Splendid summer dresses, to an insanely cute but obnoxiously expensive Gucci monogrammed, pink-strapped Mary Janes with a tiny pink bow off to the side. Where was my godfather when I was growing up? I would’ve eaten all my spinach for those little girl shoes. Not to be outdone, James got his share of RL polo shirts, Splendid tees, a ghetto looking but hideously expensive Moncler tracksuit, and a bowtie and fedora hat to go with the tweed jacket and Armani jeans. I didn’t even have a pair of Armani jeans. Oh my gosh! My nephew was going to be a lady-killer when he walked the neighborhood!
Donovan was in a really good mood once the shopping was done. “I’ve never seen any man enjoy shopping as much as you do. You and Laney would get along famously. This girl was the original internet shopper, using her mom’s credit card, pretending to be Barbara Reid.”
Donovan looked like he was about to laugh, but turned grim instead and said, “Let’s go get you a pair of shoes.”
Hot Damn! Lead the way!
Our bags got to Donovan’s hotel room even before we got there. Being the recipient of a pink Prada satin bow, T-strap high-heeled sandals, I decided to wear the dainty shoes all the way back to Donovan’s room—all 1/2 block of it.
“These shoes are beautiful. Thank you.”
He finally smiled that electric Donovan smile. “You’re welcome. What do you want to do about tonight? I can take you back to Becky’s if you like.”
“Well...I kinda wore out my welcome this morning.”
Donovan laughed loudly this time. “Al mentioned something about someone going a little apeshit in his apartment.” I was so embarrassed about my behavior this morning. “It’s all good. I’m sure he’ll love to have you back.”
“Please tell me he didn’t use the word ‘apeshit.’”
“All right. I won’t tell you.” There was that dumb-ass grin on his face that made me go red again. “You want me to get you a room here?”
I hesitated, but decided to express my true feelings regardless of a possible rejection. “Any chance I can stay here with you?” I was so freakin’ nervous. “I don’t want to be alone tonight and I’m scared.”
He closed our gap and put both his arms around me. Donovan’s first touch did NOT come close to how I thought it might feel. Before I could analyze every butterfly, nerve, tension, or friction between us, Donovan pulled away slightly and looked me dead in the eye. “I need to know,” was all he said as his hand curved around my neck and he put his lips on mine. It started slow and tentative, but soon he dug deeper and pressured the both of us to open up and experience a full kiss.
“Fuck!” He said, breaking off immediately.
“Shit!” I said, stepping back.
“Did you feel that?”
“Yes, dammit! What are we going to do?”
“Fuck if I know...”
July 1, 2013 The +2 Part of 5+2 Stages of a Hook-up
Stage 6—Confession: “Let’s REALLY get it all out.”
“Well?”
“Well what?” I asked.
“On a scale of 1-10, how incestuous was that kiss?”
“Off the chart at about one million!”
“Fucking hell!” Donovan exclaimed and fell on his back, on his bed.
“Fucking hell is right,” I followed suit in word and action.
We stayed staring at the ceiling for a long—and I mean a LONG—time. Who could’ve seen this one coming? All this time, I thought if we got together, there’d be off the chart chemistry. With all the flirting and sexual banters, Donovan and I were made for one another in every physical way. He thought I was his vixen, I thought he was the hottest man—ever! Hey, I know Max is good-looking, but Donovan is on another level of good-looking. Even Jake doesn’t come close.
“What do we do now? I’ve fucked it up for all of us. How do I make this up to you, Jane?”
“I think I did a pretty good job of being a fuck-up on my own. What the hell was that when we kissed? As soon as you deepened the kiss, I swear, I almost threw up because your face morphed into Jake’s face.”
Donovan let out a disconsolate laugh. “No woman’s ever told me that before, but I agree with you. I, too, saw a pregnant Becky instead of you. What a mess!”
“What do you think happened to us? All those months of flirting. How’d we go so wrong? I was so attracted to you, and I thought you were attracted to me, too.”
Donovan sighed and rubbed his face a few times. “I think I know where it went wrong for both of us. But, let me start with me, first.”
“Be my guest, Dr. Freud.”
“Though it’s not for certain, I think it all started for me before Delaney left for London. The night before she left, she came by my house with the intent of telling me something.”
“Why would she stop by your house? Have you been seeing her without any of our knowledge?”
He shook his head no...and then yes.... “Of course there were days when I saw her, one on one, but it was nothing, or so I thought.”
That statement of it was nothing didn’t sound like it was really nothing. “So what happened? What was so important that she drove to your home to talk with you? I was under the impression that she didn’t like you much.”
“Delaney and I...” he trailed and thought about her. NEVER in my most asinine of dreams would I have pictured those two in any form of a relationship, outside of a brother-sister relationship. Where the hell was I when all this was going down? Was I that much in my own world not to notice a tendre developing between those two? “I think she came by to tell me she was leaving the next day. Perhaps she wanted to say goodbye, but...”
There he went again, leaving off in the middle of a sentence and then brooding. “You’re seriously acting like a chick right now. I feel like I’m reading one of those Emily Griffin novels, listening to you talk.”
He chuckled, got up, and pulled me off the bed. “Let’s go take a walk. Chicago is beautiful at this time of the year. Maybe we’ll go find a bar and have a drink. I’ll tell you all that’s going on in this fucked-up head of mine.”
With all the idiotic wanna-be angst between us, being alone with Donovan would’ve been stressful, but now, we were feeling mighty free and fine with one another. This is how it had always been in the past and this is definitely how it should’ve stayed.
Situated in a cool bar where Donovan says whiskey is the winner here, he ordered what sounded like an insane amount of hard alcohol.
“Dare I ask what a ten-flights of whiskey is?”
“It’s ten different varieties. Your capacity for alcohol is about as good as any of my buddies. Let’s try them all. I think I need to be a bit drunk before I can sort out my head.”
“All righty, then!”
