by Colet Abedi
“Yes. I had the pleasure.” Clayton looks directly at me when he answers the question.
“Nice to meet you, guys.”
I start to feel the burn on my skin and it has nothing to do with the sun. It’s him. He’s staring at me again, in that crazy way that makes me think he’s not from this planet or something. How can he make me feel like this from a distance? Just from a look? He holds my gaze while he asks Erik, “Did she tell you about my party this evening?”
“No, she didn’t,” Orie chimes in, raising a brow at me as he treads water.
“I’ve invited my friends to my villa for dinner and drinks. I’d love you guys to join us.”
The sun hits him in all sorts of delicious ways. His hair is slicked back, his blue eyes are like bright beams shooting out of his face. His shoulders ripple as he easily treads water. His body is perfect, sculpted like he works out hard- and often. It’s all a girl can take. I’m about to tell him that of course we’ll come and ask if we can bring something, when Erik answers for me.
“We actually have dinner reservations at the restaurant, but maybe we’ll stop by after.”
If we were in a club, the music would have come to an astounding scratching halt. I look over at Orie, and even he seems shocked. Huh? I think I see a flash of real annoyance on Clayton’s face before it’s politely disguised.
“That’s too bad. Sophie didn’t mention that when we spoke.”
All eyes turn to me. I stare at all the men in the water, trying to figure out the right thing to say. I’m saved from stammering out a ridiculous excuse from the same friend who put me in the situation in the first place.
“That’s because Sophie didn’t know the plans. Orie and I made them while she was napping. It’s our first night here and we want to celebrate together.” I’m wondering what Erik’s game is. He’s usually the first to be spontaneous. But not this time. This is when he decides to play it cool?
Just my lousy luck.
“Of course. I hope you’ll make it after dinner,” Clayton says quietly, looking at me in that way that literally makes my toes curl. I want to launch myself at him from the dock and ask that he take me to his villa and have his way with me but I can’t. I just met him. I don’t even know how old he is. Or what he does for a living. Or his sign. I know nothing about him, and yet I can’t deny the intense desire and undeniable attraction I have for him.
“Sophie.” Clayton nods at me, then disappears into the water and swims away. His form is perfect, quite beautiful actually. He’s like a great God of the sea. No joke. Literally, a god. His friends follow suit and when they’re far enough away, I narrow my eyes at Erik.
Orie takes the words right out of my mouth. “I’d like to know why you did that.”
“That makes two of us,” I whisper furiously. Erik swims up to the deck and Orie follows. He does not look apologetic. He grabs hold of the wooden railing on the stairs that sink into the ocean.
“I have my reasons.”
“Care to share them?” I’m annoyed and it shows. “He’s the best looking, most spectacular guy I’ve ever encountered in my life!”
“I know. You’ve been eye-fucking him the whole time you’ve been sitting here.”
I flush in embarrassment.
“In your defense, he’s been eye-fucking you, too.” I flush again for all sorts of other reasons.
“Really?” I’m so pathetic.
“Sophie!” Erik is irritated and acts as though he’s speaking to a child. “This guy is the real deal. He’s got pussy flying at him from every direction.”
“I resent that. I’m not that obvious!” I say to him even though I’m not quite sure. But how dare he even insinuate such a thing? Well shit, I was just daydreaming.
“You got caught red handed with your fingers in the cookie jar. I can see it, smell it, a mile away.”
I blush. “My version of the cookie jar is way different than yours.”
“I know, babe. Your version is the G-rated one where you hold hands and peck, with a goddamn pre-school song playing in the background. But mine and Clayton’s is the X-rated one. Hard core. Straight up. Porn.”
My heart is in my throat. Visions of Clayton’s hands, mouth, and tongue run through my mind.
“Are you serious right now?” I ask in shock.
They both look at me like I’m the crazy one. Erik raises a brow.
“Fine. Since you prefer the lecture, I’ll continue.” And he does. “You’re in way over your head right now and I’m going to bring you back to reality before this turns into a shit storm. You need to play it cool, bitch. Cool as a cucumber.” Erik pauses a moment. “And Orie and I need to teach you what to do with that cucumber, by the way.”
“Pronto,” Orie finally speaks.
“Oh my God. I don’t need to know what to do with a cucumber. Actually, I don’t want to know what to do with one. Thank you for the offer, though.” I stand and put my hands on my hips as I stare down at the two of them.
“Yes, you do,” Erik says as he climbs onto my deck. “You’ve been dying to know what sex is like since you set eyes on that man. And I don’t blame you. But I sure as hell am not going to let you go to him ready, willing, on a goddamn silver platter waiting to be taken. What kind of friend would I be if I let that happen?”
I try to stay angry, but I can’t. Fine. He has a point. But what is all this talk about platters, and willing, and sex? Sex! I dated and knew Jerry for … how long? In fact, if I’m honest with myself, I probably could have pushed him into an intimate relationship. But now I think there was a part of me that just didn’t want it with him.
And before Jerry there was only one other guy that I ever even came close to being intimate with and it was such a traumatic experience that it scarred me as an undergrad. His name was Adrian and I met him freshman year at UCLA. He was a junior and played for the varsity tennis team. We met at a party on campus and instantly hit it off. He was two years older, super charming, and boyishly handsome and had the cutest dimples. He asked me to go to the movies with him the next night and I agreed. The only film that wasn’t sold out was Toy Story 3 and since we were practically the only ones in the theater we ended up making out through the entire feature.
When the credits rolled he invited me to his fraternity house for an after-hours party. I was too naïve to see the writing on the wall, but Erik later said there was no way I could have anticipated what would happen.
It was a typical college party, everyone getting hammered, couples making out, and music blaring loudly.
Adrian leaned down and had to practically shout in my ear, “Wanna see my room?”
I desperately wanted to be cool so I agreed, against my better judgment. “Sure.”
As I followed him up the steps, I was pretty sure I was making a monumental mistake, but then I kept telling myself that Adrian had a good reputation on campus, and if he offered me a drink that I thought might be roofied (yes, I was that paranoid) I wouldn’t take it. He ushered me into his room. His walls were covered with Agassi and McEnroe posters and he had a white wrought iron queen-size bed with a hot pink duvet and pillows, which I did find rather odd.
“It’s dope, isn’t it?” he said to me with a smile.
“It’s very pink,” I said.
“I dig pink.” Adrian shrugged. “I’m totally in touch with my feminine side, ya know?”
“Yeah,” I said, thinking how sweet it was that he was so sensitive. “I totally get it.”
“You’re cute, Sophie,” he stroked my cheek. “Too cute.”
Was being too cute a good or bad thing, I wondered?
“Umm, thanks,” I said as I nervously tugged on my ponytail.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom and I’ll be right back,” he told me. “Don’t disappear.”
I shook my head. “No.”
I watched him walk into his private bathroom and my gaze quickly scanned the room and found a plastic folding chair in the corner. I moved it as far
away from the bed as possible and sat down, crossed my boot-cut jean clad legs (yes, I was wearing those), and nervously waited for Adrian to reappear. My BlackBerry vibrated in my pocket.
I wasn’t surprised to see that it was Erik.
Erik: I’M DYING. TELL ME EVERYTHING.
I smiled and quickly texted back.
Sophie: I’M IN HIS ROOM.
I knew that would get him thinking. The phone vibrated back immediately with his answer.
Erik: HOLY SHIT! ARE YOU NAKED?
I tried not to laugh.
Sophie: NO! DON’T YOU KNOW ME? HE’S IN THE BATHROOM.
Erik: WHAT’S HIS ROOM LIKE?
I looked around, trying to find an appropriate way to describe it.
Sophie: HE HAS A LOT OF TENNIS POSTERS … AND A WHITE WROUGHT IRON BED …
I could feel Erik thinking through the BlackBerry and then—
Erik: WHAT COLOR ARE HIS SHEETS?
I took a moment before I answered, debating whether or not I should tell him.
Sophie: HOT PINK.
The phone didn’t vibrate back and I was worried that Adrian would walk out of the bathroom and I’d be caught texting.
Sophie: GOTTA GO. CALL YOU WHEN I GET HOME. LUV U.
Just as I put the phone back in my pocket, the door to the bathroom opened and my worst nightmare was realized.
There he stood, a very naked Adrian in all his glory. His hands were on his hips and he faced me head on (no pun intended), forcing me to take it all in—and by all, there wasn’t much to write home about.
“So whaddya think?” he said as he lazily strolled toward me.
I was too shocked to move. Or speak.
“Cat got your tongue?” he smiled as he came to stand right in front of my face, his privates gazing back at me.
I closed my eyes in horror.
“What are you doing?” I stuttered.
“I’m getting ready for sex.” His hand patted the top of my head. “With you, kitten.”
As if!
I stood up quickly, brushed against his nakedness, and resisted the urge to jump up and down and squeal in disgust.
“Are you crazy?!” I shouted out at him and ran like the wind out of his room.
I never thought of Adrian again.
And now here I am, thinking about sex, imagining it with a man I just met. I wonder what this says about my moral compass? It can’t be good.
“You’re frowning.” Erik points out the obvious as he studies my face. “Wrinkles? Do you want them?”
“What are you thinking? Tell us,” Orie demands as he pops up on the deck.
“To be honest, I saw a flash of my night with Adrian.”
“Why in god’s name would he even enter your mind?” Erik demands.
“It’s the closest I’ve ever been to sex.”
“The closest … ” Erik finds my comment vastly amusing. “That is the funniest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Fine. It’s funny. My experience with Adrian was a joke! I just don’t understand why we’re even talking about this. You guys are the ones who always point out what a giant prude I am. Why do you think I would have sex with a guy I barely know? I mean, what would that make me?”
“A young, healthy woman with a goddamn need to finally get laid. And let’s be honest, Los Angeles does have its share of hot, single men, but none of them have ever even tempted you. But this guy does. So go with it, Sophie. Who cares? I’m not criticizing you, just trying to protect you. Why do you always have to overanalyze everything in your life?” Erik has a point but I still feel the need to defend myself.
“I’m not—“ I try to get a word in.
“You can’t lie or hide from me. I’ve known you too damn long. Listen, Sophie, sometimes things happen that are unexpected. You meet someone and you’re instantly drawn to them. Like you’ve known them your whole life.” Erik smiles at Orie as he says the last part.
“And you just know it will be right because there’s a chemistry that exists from the moment you first stare into each other’s eyes,” Orie finishes for Erik. I know they speak from experience and yes, they make it all sound so beautiful and romantic, but real life is not a fairytale.
“You guys sound like a Hallmark card.”
“You’re deflecting. Just listen to me. Sometimes we can’t help who we are attracted to. We just are. And you want Clayton. Just go with it. No one is judging you but you. My job is just to make sure that you do it as elegantly as possible.”
“How can you even use that word to describe what we’re talking about?” I can’t help but laugh.
“He can use that word because sex isn’t the big, bad scary act you think it is. It’s usually an incredible special experience between two people who are attracted to one another, no matter the reason or how fast they jump into bed,” Orie explains.
I feel like I’m reliving sex ed all over again.
“I get it,” I tell them both, hoping they will stop talking about this.
“Do you?” Erik doesn’t look like he believes me but he holds out his arms to hug me tightly.
“Yes,” I smile as I move into a wet hug. Ugh. “And I love you, too.”
“Can I throw you in the water?” Erik asks me.
“Hell no!” I laugh and move away from his embrace. “Sharks, remember?” I look out over the ocean hoping for a glimpse of Clayton, but he’s gone.
Hours later, we’re at the restaurant on the beach and I can officially say that I’m tipsy. We have a great table on the beach. We watched the sunset and now the stars light up the sky and sea. I’m wearing a short turquoise blue sundress that I bought for the trip. It’s simple, with clean lines of soft silk fabric, but it’s a dress I could only wear on vacation and it was definitely an impulse buy. I have flip-flops on and I’m happy I have a pretty damn good pedicure. Fortunately, the sun has already given me a little bit of a glow so I think I look okay.
And after three glasses of wine with dinner, I’m having the time of my life. We’ve splurged and ordered lobster and the catch of the day, along with a delicious bottle of Rosé. I have no idea what time it is, nor do I care, because, guess what, I’ve got nowhere to go! Time out. Yes, I do have somewhere to go; I just don’t know if I should.
Clayton keeps creeping into my thoughts. Every single time Orie or Erik start to tell a story during which I think I can remain silent, my mind wanders to him. I so want to go to his villa! I wonder if Erik will deem it acceptable for us to attend the little soiree.
“Get that goddamn look off your face. We’re not going,” Erik says.
“Huh?” I look at Erik, then Orie, who avoids my gaze. “Why?”
Orie picks up his cocktail and takes a long swig then runs a hand through his thick black hair. He gives me a serious look.
“We talked about it. It’s way cooler if you don’t show up tonight. You’re hard to get. Guys like that.”
My heart sinks. “Really?”
Orie takes pity on me and reaches out to take my hand. “Yes. Men are hunters. They like the chase. They live for the chase.”
“But I hate running. I suck at it,” I mutter as I pick up my drink in annoyance. “What if he doesn’t ask us over again? What if I lose the one chance I have?”
“I promise you, he’ll come after you.“ I don’t believe Orie, but I appreciate him trying to make me feel better.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then fuck him,” Erik says dramatically. “He doesn’t deserve you if he’s not going to chase you.”
“But … ”
“You’re a goddamn catch. The best of the best. Make him work for it,” he interrupts emphatically.
Orie lifts his glass to Erik. “Cheers to that.” I know Erik is right, but still.
“And—Bingo,” Erik says. “He’s arrived. Bow, arrow and sword, ready for the kill.”
My breath is literally sucked out of my body. He’s here! I begin to turn my head but Orie interrupts.
“Don’t turn around, Sophie.”
“Close your mouth. You’re acting so obvious!” Erik demands.
He’s right. I need to get to the bathroom immediately and get a goddamn grip!
“I’ve got this,” I tell him.
I get up, sway a bit from the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed, and turn to find the fastest route to the bathroom. God, I’m so going to have to detox when I get home.
I almost trip over my feet when I see him walking toward the bar looking so hot in tan khaki shorts and a baby blue t-shirt that stretches out nicely over his broad shoulders and happens to match his eyes perfectly. His hands are tucked in his pockets and he’s talking to Eduard and one of the women he came with. I notice with some jealousy that she looks like she wants to devour him alive.
Okay. The night just got interesting. I wonder what time it is. Shouldn’t he still be at his villa having a party? I look down and push my long hair away from my face and am ready to pretend like I don’t see him when I lift my eyes and they clash right into his stormy blue gaze. He stares at me long and hard, and if I were to guess his mood, he doesn’t seem too happy. I watch as he coolly looks me over. His gaze lingers on my bare legs, making me acutely aware of just how short my dress really is, and then meets my eyes again.
Heat.
Holy Jesus, do I feel heat. But it’s so weird; there’s a certain aloofness to him that’s as evident as the heat. It’s almost icy. And I don’t understand it. But hell, I can’t even decipher my own psyche—how do I expect to unravel his? I awkwardly nod at him in a silent hello and rush toward the restroom. It’s tucked nicely away from the restaurant, down a path facing the sea, hidden and lit up by tiki torches. I practically run in, looking for any haven from Clayton and, lean over the sink to catch my breath. What the hell is wrong with me?
I look in the mirror and barely recognize the face staring back at me. I’m flushed, practically panting, my pupils dilated as I try to slow my breath. My hair is wild around my face in long waves. I look almost—hot?? Am I drunk? Yes. But the way he stared at me made me feel really good. I use the restroom quickly, wash my hands, take one last look at myself, and then walk out. Ready … or not.