by Ross, Janice
“You don’t eat?”
“I eat in my office and work.”
“Can you join me today?”
Jezebel pondered about using this as an opportunity to play it cool and turn away from his ensnaring stare. He gently caressed the back of her hand, gliding up her wrist and down to the fingertips. She felt vulnerable, but in a good way. Aidan was attentive, and although Jezebel was nervous, he made her want to give in to his request.
“Yes,” Jezebel croaked. She cleared her throat. “I guess so.”
Aidan’s smile widened.
“Is it okay to meet here at noon?”
“Of course,” Jezebel rushed out before biting on her lip again. She wasn’t desperate in any way, just curious and wanting to ride the cloud.
“See you soon, beautiful.”
She brazenly replied, “Later, handsome.” She walked off, boldly swaying and hoping to further entice with her steps. Knowing that he was most likely swooning at the way she glided her waist, Jezebel glanced over her shoulder. There he was, hands in pockets. And all Jezebel could think was, Aidan, Aidan, Aidan . . .
When Jezebel reached her work building the clock showed several minutes short of 8:00. The office was already buzzing. She whisked past the chatter and settled into her office, closing the door behind her. The workspace was no bigger than ten feet long in either direction, but comfy enough to get lost in. A faux wooden desk rested against the left-side wall. To make it more personable, the room boasted a bay-sized window. Jezebel didn’t typically make much of a fuss of it, especially since the thin blinds remained low. Yet today, she reached for them. Inhaling the memory of the morning’s unique journey and allowing the sun to prickle her pupils, Jezebel never felt so calm and hopeful. I wonder why?
III.
When Jezebel stepped outside at two minutes past noon, she could already see Aidan waiting at their spot. She wanted to rush but was afraid, not wanting to trip over a crack in the sidewalk. It wasn’t that the pavement was too bad, she just felt the nerves already eating away inside.
Soon enough, Jezebel was standing about two footsteps from him.
“Hello beautiful!”
“Hello handsome!”
“What would you like to eat?” Aidan asked. He expanded, flexing his arms and revealing ripples that weren’t noticeable earlier.
As she began to mull over the question, his left hand reached down to caress the back of her hands. Under normal circumstances, she would have handed down the contract with stipulations. Even given him a list of dos and don’ts. Told him that she’d rather not be touched, much less by a strange man that she’d only known for a hot minute. Would have scolded him about public displays of affection, especially right up the street from work. But she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. Why?
“Rough day?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Aidan. Getting lost in my madness. What were you saying?” She couldn’t tell him about all of that crap running through her head for fear he might run.
“What do you feel like eating, Jezebel?” His fingers once again caressed their way down to the length of her own. Before she knew it, her hand was in his palm.
Food?
Hungry?
Screw that!
Not now.
Jezebel wasn’t willing to make a fool out of herself during lunch. She worried about tripping or spilling something over her blouse. Food . . . no way.
“I’m not hungry. Do you mind if we just took a walk?”
“If that’s what you want.” He stopped. Looking down at her, the way he’d done earlier that day, caused a soothing storm to overtake her body. Jezebel tried to withstand the pull, but it was too strong. It didn’t help that he still had hold of her hand.
“You’re making me uncomfortable, Aidan.” She wanted to break the connection, but realized that he was the one holding tighter. He eased slightly, wrapping his fingers around the opposite way.
“How’s that?”
“I’m not used to people being in my space. Yet here we are walking, holding hands . . .”
The pair had walked about a block up from where they first met that morning. Jezebel’s mind still focused on the energy rushing from their touch. She waited to feel the ease in tension of his grip. When that didn’t happen she squeezed and released, hoping it would prompt him. It didn’t. Her attempt at a rejection was irrelevant.
“Are you always so tense, Jezebel?” Aidan teased.
“Tense? Because I asked you about moving into my space?” She could only think about protecting, denying and defending herself. It was so easy to become offended, although she knew he was teasing. Jezebel directed her fingers to prepare for the tension that was bound to die once Aidan let go. She waited . . . waited . . . nothing happened. Aidan only smiled, essentially forcing her to relax and give in all over again.
“That’s better,” he chimed.
Jezebel bit down on her bottom lip, hoping that he wouldn’t see how enticed she’d become. No one was capable of controlling her. No one but Aidan. As a consequence, she trailed somewhat behind him, following his lead as they headed for Brandywine Park.
The rush of the river dashing against the rocks was peaceful. A light breeze serenaded the pair on their outing. Although cars raced across two above-head roadways, their engines were easily tuned out. The time was early spring and love was growing all around. Many other downtowners had also decided to venture out for a midday walk or enjoy lunch by the river.
“So is it safe to say that you aren’t involved with anyone?” Aidan’s question cut into Jezebel’s admiration of the rapids.
This time she was ready to respond, and hadn’t drifted too deep in thought.
“I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time.”
“You’ve dated though, right?”
“If that’s what you’d call it. I’ve gone out. Tried to make connections out of dead wires. Nothing took life.”
“Why do you think that is?” Aidan led Jezebel to a bench that faced the waters. His dark cinnamon hair blew just enough to garner her attention. As earlier, he carried a special light, drawing the two of them together. She yearned to run her fingers along his face and reach up to gather a fistful of locks.
It had been a long time since Jezebel felt comfortable and relaxed in the presence of the opposite sex, with the exception of Jason. Aidan was stimulating and tantalizing. And she didn’t need to give herself a pep talk to put up with him. Without a second thought, she started to open up.
“Like any other human being, I’d like to belong to someone. Just not anyone.” She spat out the final term, it was bitter to even consider settling at this stage of her life.
“Okay . . .” Aidan rubbed up and down the back of her hand, trailing round to the center of her palms.
“But I can’t take deception, cheating, mean men—” Jezebel shifted. Her explanation was labored as she revealed her vulnerabilities.
“You’ve experienced all of that in every relationship?”
“It’s not that, but the minute I see the potential for those things, I run.”
“So you’re operating out of fear?”
“More like common sense.”
“But have you taken the time to validate your suspicions or confirm that what you believe to be red flags are actually warnings?”
He’d taken it too far. She felt like she was on an episode of Dr. Phil. For the first time since he took hold of her palm on King Street, she finally let go. Not only was her hand sweaty, but reasoning fled and with it her words.
He didn’t try to force her hand back into his, instead only stared. His smile was seductive; in fact, he appeared calm. Just then, a purple flower drifted into her hair. At a loss for all forms of interaction, she dared not remove it. She only hoped to be blown away, far up the stream, to a place where a man’s superpowers were of little effect. If only she was that lucky. Instead, the day was shaping up to be “pick on Jezebel day”.
“I’m ready to go back to th
e office.” Escaping was the best way to go. Aidan had read her story in a matter of minutes. Jezebel had to end it fast, although there were still at least thirty minutes remaining in their date.
Aidan stood, reached up to her hair and brushed aside the flower. Before she could say thank you, his lips found their perfect mate. She gasped and pulled away, instantly reeling from a bolt of static.
“Don’t tell me you don’t kiss either?” Now his head was slanted as he taunted.
“Actually, I don’t.”
“Jezebel, you’re one of a kind. Let’s get you back to work.”
As they approached Jezebel’s office she decided that from this point on, Aidan would be off limits. Their silent walk was deafening. He hadn’t taken her hand again, so she hoped to avoid further embarrassment from this point on.
IV.
That evening Jezebel worked later than usual. There wasn’t much to do, but she kept finding different ways to revamp her Excel spreadsheets. After she exhausted that batch, she turned to Access. She often lost herself in the world of databases. Her stomach grumbled and she tried to condition her mind into believing that food was the least of her worries.
Once 7:15 rolled around, she stopped kidding herself. Was this really necessary? The truth of the matter: Work had little to do with her delay. Call it excuse, fear or any other phrase. It boiled down to one word, a name to be exact: Aidan. There was no way to justify her fear of Aidan. She eventually packed up and headed out.
The evening air dashed across Jezebel’s face. She inhaled; not entirely enticed by the city fumes, but somewhat glad to be outdoors. She contemplated spending more time outdoors when she got home. Perhaps she’d throw something on the grill, and have a glass of wine. Yes . . .
As she was strolling up the block, preparing to walk past Aidan’s office, her body tensed. And for a moment she paused. Her head turned sideways and she peered at a dim light. The thick curtain shaded whatever was going on inside. Nothing else prompted her to draw near. There weren’t any voices. No one called out her name. She certainly had no business snooping around someone else’s domain. Yet she felt compelled. Her right hand reached for the knob. She turned, tried to push and pull, but it was locked. Feeling intrusive and nonsensical, the snooper spun around and walked off, knowing that she might need a time out.
“Jezebel?”
When she heard Aidan’s voice her knees nearly buckled. Did he hear me? Did he see me? Dear Lord, I’m an idiot! She paced forward, marching one foot forward at all times and pretending that he didn’t exist, although it was a difficult task, considering he was right behind her. Loud thumps overtook the silence until she realized that it was the pounding of her heart.
When he drew nearer, more than a far off sound, Jezebel spun around.
“Oh . . . hi Aidan.” The words were both full of air and full of crap.
“Are you okay? What are you doing out so late?” His arm locked onto her upper bicep.
“I had some reports to complete. You know, end of month stuff,” she blurted out, feeling silly for lying to a stranger.
“For the second week?” He was smirking.
Her lips tightened as she commanded them to stay serious, angry even. She gazed up at his eyes and lost it. Laughter burst out, trailing into the night.
“Were you trying to avoid me, Jezebel?”
“Were you trying to stalk me, Aidan?”
“Actually, I didn’t want to go south and have to head back up to the airport.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Oh no. My sister’s flying in from Wisconsin before she heads down to North Carolina. Her flight was delayed, so I have to wait it out.”
“Okay.”
“I was planning on getting a bite before I headed up to Philly International. Do you wanna join me?”
Only then did Jezebel realize that her stomach was still growling. She could definitely use a meal. “Sure, why not? Do you know where you’re going?”
“Not really. I was heading down to the Riverfront.”
“I can meet you there.”
“Ride with me, please?”
Jezebel didn’t want to get into his car. There was something about the way he said “ride with me”. A naughty voice within dared her to ride with him, ride on him . . . ride him, period! She nodded, afraid of answering with words. No telling what might have flown out of her mouth.
They sat at the bar of the quaint new Brown’s and Jezebel removed her jacket, placing it on a chair along with her handbag. Aidan reached to the seat of her chair and pulled forward, closer. She was already swooning, although alcohol had nothing to do with it. Jezebel couldn’t handle her liquor, but didn’t want him to know.
“Can I get a sweet wine?” she asked the bartender.
“Anything specific?” the guy responded. His eyes planted on her, while Aidan’s fingers were mating with hers.
“Moscato would be fine. Can I get an order of boneless wings too?”
“That’s all you want?” Aidan leaned further into her space.
“What ever happened to maintaining personal space?”
“We never made that pact,” he teased.
“I thought it was a universal order.”
“Please Jezebel, I’m Aidan. Let’s forget about what we did or didn’t do in the past. Can you give me that much?” Clever foggy blue eyes searched her soul. He was reaching for everything she kept hidden, while commanding it be gone.
Jezebel had to let his words marinate. Was he really trying to put her under manners? Was Aidan expecting her to forget about everything that made her Jezebel, the experiences that shaped her personality?
“I see the wheels turning, Jez. All I’m trying to say is just give me a chance. Okay?” His voice was smooth, but his irises sparkled beneath recessed lighting. And although she didn’t answer, Jezebel allowed Aidan to touch her arm. They naturally drifted together.
The restaurant was dimly lit, a perfect setting for lovers. Jezebel smiled at the thought.
Aidan reached for her again, taking hold of her fingers and placing them against his lips.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” Every inch of her flowed with his scent and sight.
“I want to do more than seduce your body. It’s your mind I’m after,” he answered.
“Forgive me if I come across as a skeptic. I’ve never been wowed or swept off my feet.”
“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” He was still in possession of her fingers and had been kissing them in between words. When he pulled away, she felt like something was missing.
“Love at first sight is a pleasing theory.” Jezebel thought through her answer. She was afraid to admit that she hoped for love at first sight, or love at all.
What if she decided to hope and got her heart broken?
What if the belief tricked her, and even came out of her mouth?
What if she started to lose control over such erratic emotions and lost the fight?
What if this love turned into heartbreak?
These questions plagued her mind. Her heart sped up. A single teardrop rolled down her cheek before she could stop it. Aidan noticed. He wasted no time in wiping it away.
“Don’t be afraid to give it a try,” he encouraged.
“You have all the best slogans. In fact, you’re always quick to encourage me. But obviously you’d be the one to benefit.”
Their drinks and appetizers saved her. She knew that his response would be clever and thoughtful. And maybe even force her to admit that, for a man she’d just met, Jezebel was already smitten.
They had completed their food and finished the drinks when Aidan decided to check on the status of his sister’s flight. It was just under an hour out. Not wanting her to wait, the couple quickly finished up and headed out to the parking lot.
“Are you okay to drive?” Jezebel asked. When they had stepped outside she didn’t even wait for him to take her hand. Her palm was open and waiting.
“
Of course. I only had one glass. That’s grape juice.”
They chuckled. He opened the passenger side door, directing her into the seat. He stooped down and gently captured her lips with his own. She didn’t fight him. By the time Aidan made his way to the driver’s side, buckled up and started to reverse, Jezebel felt heated.
“Can we . . . talk some more?” She wasn’t sure why the word “talk” wouldn’t come out easier, but only knew that she needed to be next to him a little while longer.
Aidan moved them further away from the streetlights. They parked beneath a tree where the lighting was nonexistent. No sooner had they stopped, then Jezebel was waiting to meet his lips. She directed him over to her and pushed the seat back as far as it could go. Their bodies clumsily came together until he was able to get underneath her. Jezebel straddled him. Her skirt rose high enough that when his hands gripped her bottom, there was mainly skin available. She pushed toward him, grinding. He thrust upwards, then brought her down to meet him in unison.
Jezebel couldn’t understand if the wine had caused this behavior or if she just needed Aidan that much. When she felt his fingers fight their way through her tight yellow panties and tease her outer delicacies, she immediately erupted. But he didn’t stop. He continued.
“Aaaaaidan,” she cried out against his mouth.
“I wish I could take you home and do so much more.” His tone was filled with hope and promise. She lost the fight again.
Jezebel was sated and embarrassed all at once. She lifted up, quickly unzipping his pants and wrapping her fingers around his flesh. She loved the feel of him and told him so. Common sense appeared and warned that if she was a different kind of girl, she would have gotten down on her knees and taken him in her mouth. Her good side reminded her that no respectable woman would be held up in a vehicle, performing acts similar to those of a whore. Ratchet was the word that came to mind.
She felt him contract. Whether or not she had gotten down on her knees, he couldn’t be stopped. Although she hadn’t officially had sex with him in a car, down in the city of Wilmington, Jezebel felt like she had. For a hot minute freedom was hers. It was enough to become indefinitely lost.