by Ally Sky
“You’ll catch pneumonia.” I hear a hushed voice and open my eyes. Ben is standing at the entrance smiling at me. He switches on the patio and garden lights. He’s holding a small blanket, which he wraps around me. It’s soft and warm, and the gesture melts me completely. He sits down next to me, wearing a black tank top, which shows off his muscular arms, and a pair of black sweatpants. His body sinks into the small sofa.
I look out at the garden and I catch my breath. It’s illuminated with tiny lights, hiding between the plants along a high fence. At the far end is his shed, where he builds and creates things I’m dying to see.
“Why are you awake?” I inhale my cigarette.
I’m thinking what a beautiful garden he has and how it would suit a family.
“I woke up and you weren’t there.”
“What happened? Did you think I’d run off already?” I ask softly.
“I think seeing your clothes on the floor made it clear enough you were still here, somewhere.”
“Unfortunately for you…” I whisper. He would probably prefer that I go.
“Why do you say that?” he asks me, turning his head to watch me.
“You know why.”
“Talia, I told you I’ve no problem with you staying, as long as you don’t say anything to anyone who doesn’t need to know.”
“Really?” I ask hesitantly. I don’t know whether to believe him.
“Yes, Talia, really. I like sleeping with you.”
“Good, that grants you a few more enjoyable mornings in my company.” I give him an impish look.
“That as well,” he agrees.
“As well?”
“I like talking to you. You know we have fun together. I don’t want to be your boyfriend but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company.” He cocks his head flirtatiously.
“Oh,” I say.
“Yes, oh.”
“I also like being with you when you don’t annoy me,” I joke.
“I know.” He leans toward my ear. “But I really do enjoy annoying you.”
His voice and breath in my ear send signals to my body once again. My eye catches the tattoo on his arm. In the light of the patio, I can read what’s written there.
Doris.
“Who’s Doris?” I signal with my head in the direction of the black word on his arm.
For his sake, I really hope it’s not one of his ex-girlfriends.
He smiles widely and waits a beat before answering.
Come on! The curiosity is killing me…
“My mother.” He doesn’t hide the amusement in his voice.
“Your mother!” I open my eyes wide in amazement. I was not expecting that answer.
“Yep, what can I say? I’m a mummy’s boy.”
“What did she think about that?”
He tattooed his mother’s name on his arm?
“She thought it was funny. Once she got over the shock.” He laughs.
“I’m sure.”
It must have been quite a shock.
“Now quit stinking my T-shirt with your cigarette and come inside, before you get sick.” He gets up and offers me a hand.
“Okay, sorry about the T-shirt.” I feel a little uncomfortable.
He tattooed his mother’s name…
“Don’t be. You can wear it whenever you want.” He grins. I put out my cigarette in the ashtray, stand up, and interlace my fingers with his. Ben leads me inside and closes the electric blind behind us.
“Why weren’t you sleeping?” he asks as I take off the T-shirt and lie next to him in bed. He’s still wearing the tank top and sweatpants and I move my hand over the soft material.
“I don’t sleep so well,” I answer.
“With me?” he asks.
“No, I just don’t sleep well.” I don’t give an explanation.
What am I supposed to say to him? That I know what’s going on? That I can hear the battle beginning? That the first thing to go is my sleep, and it’s just a preparation for what’s still to come? No, he doesn’t need to know. He hasn’t run away, and I don’t want to freak him out now. I’ll deal with it later.
“Okay, well now that we’re both awake…” He trails off mid-sentence, leaving no doubt as to what his intentions are.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask innocently.
“Me…” He leans toward my ear. “Inside of you.”
I swallow. He’s so direct. And I love it and how it arouses my body.
“So what are you waiting for?” I whisper back. “I’m yours.”
I wake up from a movement in the room and make an effort to open my eyes. A black sports bag is on the corner of the bed, and I can hear noises coming from the walk-in closet. Ben emerges holding a pile of clothes and stuffs them into the bag.
“You’re up.” He doesn’t look at me.
“Yes, what are you doing?” The confusion in my voice is evident.
“Packing,” he answers coolly, glances at me for a moment and then gets back to the bag.
“Why?”
“I’m going up north.” He continues arranging stuff in the black bag.
Going north? When did that happen?
“When are you leaving?” I try to hide the puzzlement and disappointment in my voice.
“In an hour.”
An hour? Why didn’t he say anything to me?
“Good to know.” I’m offended. I search for my clothes on the floor.
He looks at me disgruntled. “I didn’t know I was supposed to update you.” His tone is cold and unsympathetic, which makes me even angrier.
“You’re not,” I snarl. He watches me as I get dressed hurriedly.
“Why are you mad?” he asks, sounding surprised, which just irritates me.
When he said, “I don’t want to be your boyfriend,” did he actually mean, “I don’t need to tell you anything”?
“Because you’re an asshole,” I mutter under my breath while putting on my shoes. “I don’t want to talk to you. I’m going home.” I glare at him through eyes burning with anger and leave the bedroom in a hurry, shutting the front door on my way out.
I can’t believe he intended to leave without saying a word to me. If I wasn’t there last night, I wouldn’t even have known.
Asshole. I didn’t know I was supposed to update you…
I check the time. Nine p.m. I’ve been in the basement almost all day. Danny and John came back from another football game in the park, and I tried not to bump into them in order to avoid any questions about my shitty mood.
My phone beeps a Facebook message.
Ben Storm: Hi, beautiful, do you feel like talking to me a bit?
Asshole. Totally ignoring my obvious anger. Leaving me behind for the entire weekend, and now he wants to chat.
Talia Blum: What’s wrong? You miss me?
Ben Storm: Hi…
Talia Blum: Hi yourself.
Ben Storm: Are you still angry?
Not angry, maybe just frustrated about the situation.
Talia Blum: I’m not angry.
Ben Storm: Right. Okay, if you don’t feel like talking, you can say goodbye.
Talia Blum: Why didn’t you tell me you had plans for the weekend?
Ben Storm: I didn’t know I had to.
He doesn’t have to, but it would’ve been nice.
Talia Blum: Because I’m not your girlfriend?
Ben Storm: Are we starting with that again?
Talia Blum: You could’ve said something...
Ben Storm: Stop making a big deal out of it.
Talia Blum: It was insulting.
Ben Storm: You chose to be insulted. What do you want me to say to you?
What could he say that would put a stop to my confusion and expectations that something would come out of this?
Talia Blum: Nothing. You don’t owe me a thing.
Ben Storm: I don’t have the energy for this tonight. I’m too tired and too drunk.
Talia Blum: H
ow come you’re drunk?
Ben Storm: A long afternoon at the pub.
Talia Blum: You drank?
Ben Storm: Too much. It was brutal.
Talia Blum: I hope you have a terrible hangover in the morning.
Ben Storm: Sorry to disappoint you. That probably won’t happen.
Ugh! Why am I fighting with him? He doesn’t owe me a thing, and I miss him so much.
Talia Blum: I’ve decided to forgive you for your insulting behavior.
Ben Storm: I’m glad to hear that.
Talia Blum: So how are you?
Ben Storm: Tired.
Talia Blum: Did you have a long day?
Ben Storm: Very.
Talia Blum: Forgive me for the banality, but how was the trip?
Ben Storm: Long.
Talia Blum: I hate long trips.
Ben Storm: Me too. But it’s worth the effort.
Talia Blum: Did you see your family?
Ben Storm: Yes, and the guys.
Talia Blum: Sounds great.
Ben Storm: Absolutely.
Talia Blum: So were you drinking with your friends at the pub?
Ben Storm: Yes.
Talia Blum: And now you miss me?
Ben Storm: Yes.
And there he goes, confusing me again…
Talia Blum: It’s only the alcohol. Go to sleep; you’ll get over it by morning.
Ben Storm: What did you do without me all day long?
Talia Blum: What I always do without you…
Ben Storm: You hid away in the basement…
Talia Blum: Yes.
Ben Storm: Are you in the basement now?
Talia Blum: Yes
Ben Storm: If I were there, nobody would hear.
What? Is he serious? Where exactly does he plan on taking this conversation?
Talia Blum: You really are drunk.
Ben Storm: Maybe.
Talia Blum: You really had a brutal afternoon.
Ben Storm: My guys know how to get me going…
Talia Blum: So do I
Ben Storm: I’d love to get you going now.
Talia Blum: You’re really, really drunk…
Ben Storm: I’m alone in bed and the only thing I can think of is what I would do to you if you were here.
Talia Blum: I don’t want to know No point if you’re there and I’m here.
Ben Storm: It’s a pity you’re not here…
Talia Blum: Yeah, well, I’m not your girlfriend; so I can’t be everywhere I want to be.
Ben Storm: Ouch…
Talia Blum: It’s your choice, you know.
Ben Storm: You don’t have to be my girlfriend for me to do all the things I love doing…
Talia Blum: Right, why buy the cow…
Ben Storm: It’s not like that at all. And I’m too drunk to get into this.
Talia Blum: Whatever.
Ben Storm: Hey! Don’t start with your moods! I’m too horny and too drunk
Talia Blum: I’ve noticed.
Ben Storm: Oh, beautiful, what I would do to you…
Talia Blum: I’m sure.
Ben Storm: I miss your smell.
Talia Blum: What else?
Ben Storm: Your taste. I’m dying to kiss you again. Down there...
Talia Blum: So drunk…
Ben Storm: I’m dying to hear you cry out my name again.
Talia Blum: Maybe tomorrow you’ll get the opportunity.
Ben Storm: I can’t wait. I want to be inside you so badly...
Talia Blum: Ok. Time to go to sleep
Ben Storm: I want to feel you shattering beneath me...
Talia Blum: Good night, Ben
Ben Storm: Good night, beautiful, dream about me...
Talia Blum: We’ll see.
Ben Storm: I’ll dream about you and it’ll be so sweet.
Talia Blum: Bye, Ben...
Ben Storm: Bye.
Wow. What the hell was that? The guy tried to have Facebook sex with me. The truth is he’s good at it, maybe I should have gone with the flow…but what’s the point? He’s up north and I’m on the sofa in the basement, and now my whole body is aroused, wanting him. He’s totally unfair, and I’m going to tell him that, tomorrow, in his bed, after he’s been inside me, like he wants to, just like I want. All the time.
I don’t want to get up. It’s Sunday, and that damn conversation with Ben in the basement left me awake until late, and now I can’t open my eyes. Eventually, I grab my phone from the dresser—it’s eleven a.m. Danny and John must be up already. I go shower, hoping it will wake me up. In any case, I have nothing to do, except wait for the evening so I can steal my way to the house with the white door, to my man, who has the softest bed and the most electrifying hands.
“Hey, did you just get up?” Danny stares at me, and I’m not too sure what answer he’s expecting. Obviously, I just got up.
I sit down on the small sofa on the patio and light a cigarette.“I went to sleep late.” I yawn and take a sip of my coffee.
“What is going on with that?” Danny growls at me.
“With what?”
“With your sleeping. You’re not taking care of yourself.”
“Come on, Danny, don’t start. It’s Sunday. I don’t have to work today so I stayed in the basement a little longer than usual,” I lie to him. Much longer than usual but I don’t really care.
“What are your plans?”
“For today?” I ask tiredly. Does he think I’ve made plans? I just got out of bed.
“Yes. Are you going to stay home all day?” He looks at me again, irritated.
“What do you want from me this morning?” I sigh, annoyed. Why won’t he let me drink my coffee in peace and leave me the hell alone?
“Aren’t you meeting Tom?” He takes me by surprise. Tom? Where did that come from?
“Maybe this evening,” I reply. I’m going to meet my man. He just isn’t who he thinks he is.
“Anyway, what does he do, this Tom?” The familiar interrogation has begun. Ugh, I really don’t have the strength for this.
“He’s an investment advisor at a bank. He’s twenty-eight years old, an only child, and he’s nice. Any more questions?” I shoot impatiently.
“You know we’d be happy to meet him,” Danny says earnestly. He wouldn’t be happy to meet him. He wants to meet my imaginary boyfriend.
“We’ll see,” I mutter. “Now, if the interrogation is over, I’m going to go and write a bit.”
I take my laptop and go down to the basement, turn my music on loudly, and start typing.
Sunday
June 10th 2012
Yearning
I’m not supposed to feel like this but my body has a life of its own, and my demons are celebrating. Coffee, cigarettes, red wine, and wild passion for a pair of green eyes, a muscular body, and soft kisses.
I miss him. Every nerve in my body misses him. Misses his touch, his words, his breath on the pillow after he’s come inside me and fallen asleep, calm, serene, and satisfied. From me. I do that. I still can’t believe he wants me, even if it’s only this way, even if I want more. I won’t give it up, not before he tells me to, not before he decides. I don’t want to leave him, or his bed, or his life. I want the small moments he gives me. I live for them. Without him I can’t breathe. I’m pathetic. And I don’t care. Pathetic and madly in love. He has to see it. And one of these days, when he’s ready, he’ll want more. I have to believe that. I only need to be patient. In the end, he’ll miss me as well.
19:46
I hope you’re back safely and the trip was easy (after all that drinking)