Microsoft Word - Starter Boyfriend.doc

by Lana Jovanovic

  Why was he staring at it so hard?

  Colton turned away from the TV, his eyes immediately looked with hers and he frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Hmm? Nothing,” she stammered trying to recover. She felt dizzy and light headed, like she’d been holding her breath for too long. “Nothing, why?”

  “You look upset,” he answered as he slowly moved toward her. She felt the warmth of his palm before it cupped her shoulder. His thumb gently rubbed her bicep and his fingers gripped her a little tighter. The voice in her head told her that that he was feeling for tone and shapeliness in her arm; she tried to flex, but failed. Colton’s hand dropped away, but he didn’t move, in fact he stepped closer. “Feeling okay?”

  “Y-yes,” Zoe stammered. With one last look at the picture on the TV, she picked up her purse from the chair and smiled at him. Colton gestured toward the door and she followed him out into the hallway and fumbled with her keys to lock up. Her heart was pattering nervously and she suddenly had an intense desire to explain the picture and her behavior in it. Not that it mattered since it was so long ago and she was definitely not a big eater anymore, but still, she didn’t like how long he had stared at that old image. But maybe he should know that she could become that person again. There was nothing really wrong with that girl—she’d just been really fat.

  “You know—we weren’t really participating in that hotdog eating contest,” she stammered as she searched for the right key to lock her apartment door. “I don’t think I could ever eat 30 hot dogs in a row,” she was rambling badly, but couldn’t stop, no matter how much she wanted to. “I don’t think I could ever eat that much in one sitting—

  not even in the past. It was just a silly little picture we took at a fair a long, long time ago.

  I can’t even remember the last time I ate a hot dog. They’re so bad for you—”

  “Zoe,” Colton’s hand moved against the small of her back and she dropped her keys to the floor. She curled her toes out of the way and realized that she’d forgotten to put on shoes. She looked over her shoulder to see if Colton had noticed; he had. “I wasn’t going to say anything, until you started to lock the door—shoes might be pretty important.” He leaned a shoulder against the door frame and smiled as she pushed her apartment door back open and stepped inside to put on her shoes. This time when she locked the door her fingers didn’t shake.

  “I suppose shoes are a good thing,” she said as she slipped her keys into her purse,

  “although I am a big supporter of bare feet.”

  Colton nodded and followed her down the steps, which she carefully maneuvered so she wouldn’t fall down them and really start off their evening with a bang. Once outside of her building they walked to the street and Colton hailed a cab. As they waited, Zoe thought about explaining the picture a little more, but she was uncertain of what more she could say.

  “So—I thought we’d go to this little French bistro I know,” Colton said as the cab pulled up. “It’s not terribly fancy, but it’s a step up from crab legs and shrimp on a checkered tablecloth—although I’m sure you could order crab and shrimp there, drizzled in a French sauce—very pompous.” He opened the taxi’s back door and watched as she climbed in. Zoe wished he wouldn’t watch her so closely all the time; she felt incredibly self conscious when he did. She was sure that she hadn’t yet perfected the art of the backseat slide.

  Colton sat beside her, his arm thrown casually behind her head. Sitting so close, Zoe could really smell the soap on his skin. The smell was absolutely intoxicating. She turned into him and smiled when he met her eyes.

  “So, how do you know this place?”

  “I went there a few times in the past,” he answered. “It’s quiet, nice,” he shrugged casually. “So, tell me how you’ve been.”

  “I’m okay,” Zoe answered as she twisted the bangle around her wrist. “Work is picking up—I’ve been put on a few more accounts, which is good, some designers aren’t picked up and when you’re not working on the big accounts you feel a sense of doom that your time may be coming. So, I suppose I have some job security in that I’m always chosen.”

  “Minnie says that you’re very talented,” Colton said. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”

  “Oh… okay,” Zoe murmured with a smile. As their cab slowed to a stop for a red light, she glanced out the window and pointed. “There—see that billboard there for the Smithsonian Amateur Art Show?” Colton leaned into her, his body pressing warmly against her shoulder and side. “See it?”

  “Oh, yeah—you did that?”

  “Yup,” Zoe smiled proudly as she looked at her intricate design work. “It’s a national campaign, so promotional pieces with my design concept when out all over the country. I had a lot of fun working on that.”

  “You are definitely talented,” Colton eased back, but it never felt like he moved too far away, especially when she turned and bumped his chin with her forehead. “Sorry!” He laughed. It was dark in the cab so she couldn’t really see his expression, but he drew back a little to give them space. “Are you hungry?”

  “Um, yes,” Zoe nodded. “I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

  “I eat all the time, I feel,” Colton sighed.

  “It’s probably all of the physical activity,” Zoe said. Colton turned toward her a little a sly smirk on his face. “You obviously are in good shape. As a landscaper, I’m sure you’re on your feet digging in a garden, lifting heavy things all day. I mean, you seem really strong.”

  A smile spread across Colton’s handsome face, “I am.”

  “I can tell,” she said with what she hoped was a flirtatious smile. He stared at her for a moment and then smiled in a way that made her shrink back a little. Maybe she was being too obvious with the flirting—she wasn’t good at this and it seemed a little pointless.

  What was the definition of flirting anyway? What would it lead too and did she really want it to lead in that direction so early. And she didn’t want to come off too strong and desperate like that woman from the ball park.

  The cab pulled up to the bistro ten minutes later. Colton paid the driver and then helped Zoe out of the car. He didn’t release her hand when they stepped into the restaurant and she was glad about that. She liked the way his big fingers completely hid hers. She liked the rough feel of the calluses mixed with soft patches of skin—work worn hands. He held her hand as they waited for their table and talked about random things and held it all the way to their table.

  He ordered wine and an appetizer for them both and they spent several minutes discussing the various selections they had. Soon the conversation fell into a slightly awkward phase where neither really knew what to say; they just stared at their menus cluelessly.

  “I want to apologize again for not calling,” Colton said after a moment. Zoe lifted her eyes from the small bread basket sitting between them and sat up a little straighter.

  “It’s fine,” Zoe replied gently. “Honestly Colton—I understand. I don’t expect… well… I don’t know what to….” She didn’t know how to ask him what they were really doing there. Why they were even sitting across from each other in such a romantic—and it was romantic, with soft classical music, trickling water fountains, flickering candle light, small intimate dining—restaurant. Why were they on a real date? Why was she doing any of this?

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Colton asked as he reached across the table, his palm up. Instinctively, Zoe slipped her fingers against his and shrugged her shoulder. She watched as his thumb gently caressed her knuckles making her feel warm and comforted.

  “It just seems awkward,” Zoe answered.

  “Are we talking about the contract?” Colton asked.

  “Why would you sign something like that, Colton?” Zoe laughed. “I mean—I don’t know if I should take any of this seriously or as some big joke. I mean… I don’t know.” She pulled her hand free of his and picked up her wine. She swallowed do
wn a bitter mouthful and sighed. Colton reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. She watched as he drew out a slip of paper and unfolded it. He waved it a bit and smiled.

  “The contract,” he said with a serious expression. She watched his brown eyes move slowly over the words. “Well… I think we’re off to a good start here.” Zoe absentmindedly pulled a piece of bread from the basket and began nibbling it. “I am failing at some of these; for example, I haven’t called you frequently or sent emails—I will rectify that immediately. I think that I’ve shown you a little of what to look for in men and I’m not too big of a jerk.”

  “You’re not a jerk at all,” Zoe said. “I guess I’m just too in my own head on this Colton, just ignore the crazy woman across from you.”

  “You’re not crazy,” Colton said as he handed her the contract. “This is unconventional and a little odd, but I’m here because I want to be. I’m here because I think we could be great friends.”

  Friends, Zoe thought.

  Did she want to be friends with Colton? Friendship was the last thing on her mind whenever he touched her, but he was extremely good looking so her physical attraction to him was only natural. She didn’t have to act on it.

  “Why do we have to define it, Zoe?” Colton asked gently. “I understand where you’re coming from—I feel the same pressure and uncertainty. But we don’t have to define this.

  We have to ignore that our family and friends want this to work out on a romantic level—

  they want us to flirt and talk constantly. But maybe neither of us is ready for that… why rush?”

  “Yes,” Zoe sighed. “You understand.”

  “Of course!” he laughed. “My sister is Minnie Philips—and you’re flanked with Paige who is in a romantic stage of her life where everything has to have fairytale promise. But that’s a lot for us to live up to. They’ve set this bar for us, Zoe, but we need to set our own bar and our own pace.” Again his hands moved out across their small table and his fingers gripped her right hand, squeezing it warmly. “I don’t want you to think about how this started… I don’t want you to think about the contract. I don’t care the circumstances leading up to this crazy starter boyfriend idea.”

  “Maybe it should be starter date,” Zoe stammered. She realized that every time she thought about Colton being her “boyfriend” she felt a swell of fear, anxiety, and humiliation. “Maybe it’s the term?”

  “Semantics,” Colton nodded and released her hand again as their appetizer was served.

  “How about we nix the whole title all together and just have some fun with one another?

  I think that’s what this is ultimately about—and… as for other things—” he shrugged his shoulders and helped himself to a piece of bruschetta and she did the same “—if they happen they happen.”

  “Other things?” Zoe prompted as she savored the finely diced tomatoes seasoned with olive oil and spices on a crispy piece of toast.

  Colton chewed slowly; his eyes burning into hers. After a moment, he picked up the contract lying by his plate and handed it to her. She noticed that the creases in the paper were wearing thin and had torn in a few places; it was as if he had read the contract over and over again. Zoe glanced at him and dropped her eyes to the page where he was pointing. With a deep breath she began reading:

  Both parties must choose to kiss, cuddle, and engage in other sexual activities of their own free will. And will practice safe sex. I, Colton Philips, will consider kissing Ms.

  Rayne should I feel so inclined.

  Zoe felt the blood drain from her face, “Oh my god.”

  She couldn’t look at him. Had Paige honestly written this? What on earth was she thinking even offering up such words? Paige shouldn’t be thinking about sex or making out and it should have never entered into the contract. How on earth was she supposed to respond to this? What was she supposed to say? She couldn’t even imagine the amount of pressure he had been feeling lately. What if wasn’t even attracted to her in that way?

  Maybe his proximity and hand holding was just politeness?

  Zoe glanced up as Colton took the contract back and folded it up.

  “I don’t… know what to say,” Zoe gasped. “I just… Colton….”

  “I’m not expecting anything—only friendship,” he said quickly. “I don’t want you to think that I am expecting something like that. I mean… I’m not adverse to the idea of…

  what I mean to say is….”

  “This is embarrassing,” Zoe fanned her face with her hands.

  “I’m sorry, I thought that you’d seen the contract, but I suppose you haven’t read it in detail.” He finished his wine in two gulps. “Look, can we forget about the contract, Zoe?”

  “I don’t think so,” she laughed. “That’s all I’m going to think about! I just feel like this has gotten out of hand a little bit. I feel out of control.”

  “Do you feel obligated to be out with me?” Colton asked. Zoe lifted her eyes to his and stared at him for a long time. “I don’t feel that way toward you, but I’ll understand if Minnie and Paige have forced you into this. They’re pretty pushy.”

  “I don’t,” Zoe said. “I want to be here.”

  “Good,” Colton waved his hand dismissively. “Then that’s all that matters—dating is about taking one step at a time and going with the flow. Trust your instincts about people and you’ll be fine. Right now, I think we need to change the subject and forget all about what got us here in the first place. We’ll make a new contract between us.” He poured himself a little more wine and then held out his glass to her. “A toast to friendship and new beginnings! From here on out, Zoe Rayne, we will forget all about the people poking us in the back and we focus on our friendship.”

  “I’ll toast to that,” Zoe laughed lightly. Their glasses chimed together delicately. Zoe took a sip of the wine and watched him sip his. He studied her for a moment, his cheeks were red and his eyes were full of a heated expression that she had seen before, but was too timid to identify. Colton smiled and leaned in a little; he held out his glass for a second toast. Zoe lifted hers as well and felt her cheeks warm at the playful glint in his eyes.

  “And… if we happen to kiss in the process of this whole thing—so be it,” the words were spoken with a soft heaviness that made Zoe’s entire body hum. Colton tapped his glass into hers, smiled, and tilted his glass up to take a large sip of wine. Zoe watched as he opened his menu and started looking at the items again. “The swordfish is good,” he said.

  “Or the stuffed chicken breast—a friend ordered that all the time and enjoyed it.” Zoe set her wine glass down and pressed her palms against the cool leather of her menu, she wasn’t sure if she should respond to Colton’s comment about kissing. She was thrown by it that was for certain—it was such a loaded comment to make.

  She scratched the back of her neck, thought for a moment more about what it would be like to kiss Colton, to feel his arms around her, to feel his lips, hot and wet against hers.

  The more she thought about it the hotter her face became. She ignored Colton’s light chuckle and opened her own menu.

  “I’ve never had swordfish,” she murmured lamely.

  “Me either,” Colton admitted. “You okay?”

  Zoe nodded but kept her eyes averted. She decided to leave his last toast, and all of the anticipation and uncertainty around it, alone for now. Of course, it was all she could think about for the rest of their meal, but they didn’t have to talk about it. Not then.

  After dinner, Colton took Zoe to an off Broadway play called Banana Hammock, an off-color comedy about the perils of homosexual dating in a highly conservative environment. Halfway through the first mock love scene between the two lead male characters, Colton leaned against Zoe, his nose brushing lightly against her ear as he bumped her in the dark, and whispered:

  “Sorry… I didn’t realize that this was… um… so graphic,” his laughter had warmed the skin along her neck. He dre
w back and stared down at his hands until there was a long moan from the stage, and then he leaned in again. She tilted her head to hear him better.

  Again he apologized breathlessly, keeping his voice as low as possible. She had to lean in more to hear him. “Sorry… I didn’t realize what this play was about—I just thought it was a comedy. If you want to leave, I’ll understand.”

  “Do you want to leave?” Zoe whispered back, her eyes drawn forward as the audience began laughing. A third character, a rival lover had just walked onto the stage wearing a bright yellow banana hammock. The look was indecent, with the man’s overly hairy body, and extremely funny. She covered her mouth with her hand and laughed until tears were streaming down her face. When she finally had control, she touched Colton’s hand to get his attention. He leaned into her, his head bowed so she could whisper into his ear.

  “We can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “I’m not,” Colton said with a casual shrug. “I just… didn’t know what this was about.

  And to be honest, it was all I could get tickets for. So, I won’t be upset if we bail.”

  “Maybe at intermission?” Zoe asked. Colton nodded and settled back in his seat, his arm loosely around the back of her chair. Zoe watched him for a moment and then turned her attention back to the stage and enjoyed the rest of the first act.

  During intermission, they left their seats and followed the crowd out into the lobby and outside the theatre.

  “Wow, I didn’t know it was supposed to rain,” Colton stammered as they stopped under the small awning and watched sheets of water pour off the plastic roofing. A flash of lightening illuminated the roof of the buildings above them and the wind picked up tossing Zoe’s hair up and around her face. Colton stared down at her for a long time and smiled hesitantly. “I suppose we could wait the weather out and stay—see the second half of this insane play.”