Love me, Loudly

by Jess Kolbe

  I’ve reached him with a smile, unsure how to act. Sam says, ‘good morning’ and his hand slides down my forearm to take my hand, causing a warm tingling throughout my body. I can feel that he’s not entirely sure about doing it and follows through anyway. My body is screaming you have my full permission. Can he hear it? It feels so sexy, and I can’t stop “oh my God” from falling out of my mouth at the level of intimacy in his touch. He blushes and nods towards the beach. “Takeaway?”

  “That’s precisely what I was thinking.”

  He urges me to order first and is ever so polite to the barista. He hasn’t let go of my hand, in a sweet and comfortable way, despite the intensity of our heated chemistry in the air and overflowing within me.

  We are both aware of our heat and, the electricity around us. The young girl behind the counter visibly reacts to us, blushing the entire time she is serving us.

  It is comforting to see his nerves as well, while I’m also trying to support me. My heart is beating so loudly I worry that the entire cafe can hear the solid thump, thump. I wonder if Sam can feel my heart calling to him, being this close to me. I breathe into my heart, allowing myself space to encourage me to appreciate this very moment right now. His hand is steadying me.

  I feel my thoughts beginning to race, with fear cascading over me. “He is too good for you…” screams my mind. I decide to remind myself that my crazy thoughts are like TV commercials and I’m going to let them roll on by. I am not engaging them, just letting them happen so I can allow these feelings for Sam to grow inside me without colouring the feelings with my old fears. I’m basically forcing my feet to stay on the ground and in this moment with Sam.

  I am enough. Stay with what your body wants, Evie. Stay here, in this moment. I glance down and realise I’m holding his hand very close to me, standing waiting. His hand is next to my thigh and both of my hands are on his. He feels so familiar, safe, and, wow, he is soothing my inner crazy.

  We say nothing beyond the niceties of please and thank you while in the café. There is a little walkway outside leading to a seat overlooking the beach, a secret only known to the locals.

  We sit still for a few moments in silence like we are tuning in to our music, our beat, to each other. We are close on the seat, not touching, yet close enough to feel one another. Our souls are dancing around us, as we feel into the space and energy. The ocean is calm, shinning with the bluest of blue. It’s a soft winters day, and unseasonably warm with the sun shining down on us. He feels homely and I smile at the feeling that we are simply soaking in each other. I close my eyes and tilt my face towards the sun, inviting her warmth into my body. I feel him looking at me and I enjoy it and allow it, relishing the feel of his eyes on me.

  Opening my eyes to look to him, he smiles.

  “Evie, you love the beach, hey?”

  I pause to feel the way Sam says my name, how it rolls off his tongue and through those lips, watching them for a moment before realising I needed to respond to him. I giggle and say a hurried “yes, yes I do Sam.”

  Pausing after saying his name, I want to say it again and again. We begin the small talk, testing the feel of each other out, all about the ocean, our love of the water, we laugh about my inability to master fishing or surfing and finding a shared love of ocean swimming.

  Sam asked why I left the city and this question presented a choice that I had not even considered. I breathed in and out carefully, and as it felt right and natural, I opened up and shared with Sam, that in the city bad things had happened to me. I moved here because I needed space, physically and also to connect with this every day, gesturing to the ocean.

  My vulnerability shared, Sam looks out to the ocean and says quietly, “sometimes it’s places that help us”. We both seem to drift into our own worlds and it actually feels important.

  I remember the first time I sank my bruised heart into that ocean and felt comfort, felt like I would be okay, and I was. I am still holding my breath concerned about how vulnerable I have been. Sam sips on his coffee and says that he “feels like that at the farm”. Our eyes lock in a softer way, it feels different, kinder for me and, wow, the realising that he could be more, beyond our chemistry, he could be…

  “Sam, tell me about the farm…” I listen. He talks of rolling hills, his house, situated in the valley, while his parents are on the other side of the farm. He jokes in a big brother teasing way about his sister’s house being still in the works. Ruby, his sister, loves the city and moved many years ago for university and stayed. Clearly, they are all immensely proud of her accomplishments and he boasts about her being a successful lawyer, which is lovely to hear, and it feels like they have a genuine loving relationship. Sam describes his mum as the country mother, the CWA mum, personified, proudly telling me all about her community work, and how growing up she was always raising money for this or that and doing the school bake sale, a clear leader of the mother’s club. His dad, Robert, a working man, sun-up to sun-down kind of man, always willing to lend a hand and to give someone a go. The farm was his grandfathers, passed down to his father. Sam’s dad always pushed his kids to dream bigger than farming, as it is such a hard life, backbreaking work, reliant on weather, markets, and other outside factors. Without the ‘lucky’ breaks the farm had, perhaps things would have been hugely different for all of them.

  Sam shares that his dreams are to return to the farm and combine his building business with the farm, hoping the farm can stay in the family. Sam pauses for a moment lost in his thoughts. I’m guessing that he feels the pressure to do both. The conversation moves to my background and family, my older sisters who are much older than me and two younger brothers in New Zealand who I see a few times a year. My parents were not together when they had me and thankfully, they ended up developing a sort of friendship over the years. I let Sam know I am fairly sure I am a one-night surprise for them both. Sometimes I feel ashamed to tell people this but right now with Sam, I don’t. I am much closer with my brothers even though they are across the ditch. When they do visit, they cause a little havoc up and down the coast, completely harmless at 19 and 21 years old. It’s nice to feel like a family when they are here, we cook together, beach together, board game nights, we just spent time together and its nice.

  “I feel very safe and loved when they are here.”

  I pause in my own reflections, reliving the last time Teddy and Cam visited. Our conversation finds more depth and meaning, it feels surreal and normal as we begin to talk of our values and beliefs while moving from sitting at the beach, to a stroll. He again reaches for my hand, running his fingers down my forearm with the lightest of touch, this time asking permission. I respond with a nod of encouragement. The heat from his fingertips, tracing my skin, the smallest of tastes of his touch. My forearm tingles in the aftermath of his touch.

  We end up grabbing something to eat back at the café.

  He feels so comfortable, it’s very natural. His voice is deeper than I remembered, it’s slow and considered. I watch his hands they have seen hard work. There’s strength and resolve in them. His smile is, soft and somewhat strained, maybe. I think I can see pain in him, his eyes are as blue as the ocean is today, with a hint of greyness. I know he’s younger than me, I think he knows too. He’s very polite with everyone around us, we are carefully testing each other, both equally wanting to be liked. Thankfully, we have very similar values. His appeal is ever increasing. He is impressive and the way he talks of his family, makes my ovaries sing.

  Part of me is not sure this is even real. Obviously, he’s a good man, so why is he here with me?

  While listening to each other we are searching beyond the spoken word, a conversation is occurring below the surface. We are dipping our toes into the space being created between us. All the while we are exploring each other, his eyes are in my soul, he feels like he is peeling away layers of me, holding me close, feeling every inch of me, igniting parts of me, discovering me, as am I him. Sam speaks and I’m watching
his lips, his tongue, the way he moves, transfixed. He feels me doing it, and I’m wondering how those lips feel. We both blush upon coming back to reality of the café it’s as if he’s reading my lustful thoughts. Those eyes are hitting me in my depths. I can see and feel him searching within me, we both are, each time he gazes into my eyes with intent it’s like he is diving deeper into me, his eyes peeling back the layers within me, searching.

  Seeking out privacy we head back to the beach again, neither wanting our date to end. We go for another walk on the sand, eventually finding a spot to sit, settling in side by side. I turn to look at him, he smiles, and I can see he’s nervous too, his lips quivering as he says, “You overwhelm me.”

  “I feel it too. You fascinate me. I had hoped to see you again. I was caught by you, frozen. I have never experienced a moment like that you drew me in, I could feel you, I was fixated by your desire, and I wanted you, I want you now, it’s more than that, I don’t fucking know. I’m not really sure what is happening to me.” I blurt out. Sam’s bottom lip is uncontrollably trembling now with emotional vulnerability and I’m scared of his reaction.

  Sam expresses the same confusion and his frustration seems equal to mine. “I was also paralysed by you. I’ve been searching for you every day since! I hoped it wasn’t over, maybe it was wishful thinking, who knows. Then when I saw you in the supermarket, all caught up in what you were doing, talking to yourself, I knew it was now or never. I stalked you down a few aisles, composed myself, and you know the rest. This just feels so easy, nerve racking, yet I want to us to continue getting to know each other.”

  I take a deep breath my mind spinning, not sure he just said those things. I manage to say a shaky “please.”

  Collecting myself, I take the same risk to expose my emotional nakedness, sharing what he did to me that day. “I looked for you too, I went back there three times that week. I felt stupid for not talking to you. Our intensity overwhelms me too, you feel lovely. I didn’t know I could feel this and feel stupid saying it because I just met you, I desire you and feel our attraction developing and I want to know more, I want more.”My face flares red at this level of honesty. I’m trying not to look him in the eye, did I really just say that? Just roll with it, I tell myself. Don’t hold back. Rolling with my inner turmoil. “I clearly like the feel of you and I’m also scared and want to run from you, even though you feel ever so safe.” “This is new ground for me, and I want to get to know you. Just to be clear, so you know where I am coming from, I do want something real, I want love in my life and I’m not here for a fling. I want to discover the possibilities of what we may have, whatever that turns out to be. I made a commitment to chase things that make me feel good, even if they scare the shit out of me. I do feel like there is something big between us and I want find out more and I am here with all my crazy and all that I am.”

  He stops me. “Evie, I am here honestly, too.”

  I tell him that I promised myself today that I was going to show up without bullshit fears, of wanting to be liked. “I like you I want to get to know you and I want to honestly share what I am feeling. I feel compelled to tell you, even if that scares you away, I get I am being pretty full on.” As I’m saying this, I can see his expression change and his body language pulling away.

  I attempt to reassure him. “I didn’t think it would happen on our first date although I am happy it did, and you now know what my expectations are.”

  He turns to me, pauses in anticipation. “Evie, I want to taste you, I want to hold those lips with mine, now…”

  Bam, I’m breathless. The sexual tension between us skyrockets, stunning me into silence. I’m shaking, taken aback by his level of intimacy. He notices, the intensity continuing to rise between us. His restraint is powerful. He holds my hand up towards his chest, for a moment, getting lost in those blue eyes, the intensity of his gaze, our closeness, his presence slowly washing all over me, his scent swirling around me, gently caressing my skin, claiming me. His heartbeat pounds through my hand, as I turn and spread my fingers on his chest. He’s still touching my hand. We are so close, it is electrifying. He interlaces our fingers and stands, pulling me slowly up towards his body. I want those lips to pour over me right now in kisses.

  He turns and begins walking and I’m desperately trying to breathe. I think we both are! I’m letting my body shake, allowing him to see the impact he is having on me and spending the sexual energy between us. I can feel us both attempting to steady each other after our vulnerability and the power of dipping our toes in each other’s desires, our wild selves us. The little girl inside me is crying with joy because she just literally fell in love with her man.

  HIM | Six

  I’ve been here since 7am. I’ve scoped out the place, gone for a walk and found a spot we could sit and get to know each other, while I fantasize about touching every part of her with my tongue.

  The early mark means I’m here first, waiting and desperately trying not to sweat too much. Fuck, I’m nervous, the sweat pours out of me. She will arrive to me sitting in a puddle. Fuck, get control mate. I give up on trying to feel comfortable and go with nervously controlled, well that is what I tell myself over and over, again and again until I see her. Out the front of the café, I’m pacing, feeling completely out of my depth here, and then she is here, stepping out of the car. I’m immediately breathless, she’s got that body in jeans and a tank, letting me see all of those curves walking towards me. I am paralysed by her swinging hips, panic rising the closer she gets. Fuck, that smile, she’s indescribable. Fuck, why is she here with me? Words fail me, again. Evie says good morning. I move my lips, but nothing comes out. Reaching for her hand, I, miss and touch her forearm, so I slide my hand down the inside of her hand, staring blankly at her the entire time. She looks up at me with those eyes and ‘oh my god’ falls out of her mouth, giving me some courage that we are both nervous. Okay, getting my shit together. The longer I feel her skin, touch her hand, the calmer I feel. My mind is slowing, and I can focus, suggesting coffee at the beach. Space. I need space with her. I need to get used to this feeling. I’m focused on obtaining coffee and getting her on my own. I continue to hold her hand and she holds my hand so close to her body, sandwiched between both of her hands. It feels intimate, her delicate fingers running up and down my much bigger hands. They must feel so rough against her soft fragile hands. It’s holding me in a trance, watching her hold my hand, ever so lovingly. Observing her gently touching me, feels dreamlike. I’m sure it’s happening but not and it also feels like the most normal thing. I guide her out of the shop towards the seat I staked out earlier. It’s private even though it is close to town. As soon as we sit, the normalcy of the moment is gone. The overwhelming attraction and desire builds instantly when Evie sits turns her body towards the sun and tilts her face up, and I can see all of her body. My eyes trace her neck, over her breasts, and return to her face. She is smiling at the feel of the sun, I think. She happily explains to me how the sun feels, ‘on her’.

  She talks a bit strangely, but I think I understand she feels comfort from the sun and like it’s good for her health wise. She talks of golden hour, and I ponder how that is also my favourite time for the day, when all the work is done and it’s a time when Dad and I would have a quiet moment. There is nothing like the colours of the sky at the farm. I’m sharing this with Evie and it’s comforting how easy she is to talk to. We both look at each other in a long pause, without words, yet this feeling I have with her, it’s so strange to explain, like kind of coming home?

  No, no that’s not it.

  I’ve never described a sunset in the way I just did to her, and yet it is how I feel about them. I look at Evie and ask her to truly tell me about herself. I’m still not sure what is happening nor what truly means, but Evie, takes a deep breath, looks at me and responds with okay. She begins with the ocean and how she loves the way the water makes her feel. She’s so intense and open. It’s refreshing but I’m not sure I can keep up
, feeling a bit puzzled. Evie then tells me about her family. - She’s close with her brothers from New Zealand - and kind of skims over her parents. She tells me about the child she was, a bit of a dreamer, wanting to be a marine biologist. How her dream didn’t work out, life threw her some curve balls. She’s worked hard on herself to overcome these challenges, she’s very purposeful in her life and wants to make sure she is contributing to the world, to bring a sense of meaning in what she is doing.

  We are very different.

  Our conversation is very intimate, she’s truly showing me who she is, her hopes and goals. I feel challenged by her, so I match it, telling her all about Ruby, Mum and Dad. Our conversation errs on the side of positivity and I don’t want to share with her about Dad. I don’t want to ruin the mood. I know I choose to leave out Dad and that he is gone, maybe I am practicing a bit of denial? How do you even say that? I don’t want her to know, anyway. I share with Evie my dreams of the family farm and my building business and being able to combine the two businesses. Truly my heart is in the farm.

  It is so bizarre that I am actually sorting out my life while talking to her. I am figuring out what I genuinely care about and value. My family legacy feels so important now and I want to make Dad proud of me. I do know that. I haven’t shared this dream with anyone yet, well except Dad. We had been planning this for years.

  We talk and talk, and she asks loads of questions which is great as it helps me to consider what my next move is and what is important to me right now. I feel like I know her, I feel like I’m talking to an old friend I haven’t seen in years. Every now and then she takes a breath in, smiles to herself and refocuses on our conversations. There is so much about her that I like and so much that confuses the fuck out of me, and yet I want more of this. She is intriguing, she has big dreams too. Big aspirations for her business to make an impact, and although what we do is polar opposite, we find commonalities and time to listen. It has been such a long time since I have had a conversation that flows in this way. When she laughs, she curls her toes in the sand. We are both taking each other in, moment to moment. I notice her watching my mouth, how she plays with her hair, how she takes the time to consider my questions. She doesn’t jump in, she slows down and takes time to respond thoughtfully, well, at least, that is what I am learning of her. I’ve watching those hips so closely. They’re calling to me, I want to taste what’s in between them. I’m having waves of pure desire and need, amid beginning to realise she could be the coolest chick I’ve ever met. The thought of Dad really liking her, too, brings an uncomfortable space. I need to move, hastily suggesting lunch. The contemplation of Dad is impeding on what’s happening. I’m uncomfortable and dread is building in me. I need to move and still want to get to know her, I don’t want this to end, I don’t want her to know about Dad. I don’t want her to look at me differently. The guilt rises in me from my pain and my attempts to shut it out. We have talked for hours and it feels nice to be with her. I want to stay in this space with her. She is so deeply passionate about so many things and doing things with meaning is important to her. There is so much I don’t understand, and I’m intrigued. I think she’s been hurt, there feels like something is big there, she said she has been through something and struggled with processing what happened to her. She also said she found her way on her own, my God, she feels strong and capable. It scares me equally, making me want to hold her, protect her. I’m ashamed of hiding my own pain, pushing it away and down, refocusing on her. We eat lunch and it feels natural. We’re still learning and testing each other out. She feels intense, the way she moves gliding those hips in front of me, seductively. She doesn’t see me as a tragedy. Even though I’m talking away with Evie, I’m not even sure what I’m talking about. Her eyes are focused on my lips. I can see what she’s thinking about. I deliberately slow my talking and still she’s watching my lips, my shoulders. She is sizing me up. I’ve never had a woman be so publicly direct, and open with her flirtations. She’s touching her lips and clearly considering what mine would feel like. I edge a little closer to her. She blushes. I can’t help myself and I ask what those lips would feel like. She looks directly at me, holding my gaze and suddenly, I’m blushing, and she is smiling. My reaction to her is so unusual for me, and I like it.