by Kay, Debra
The thumping in my chest intensified as I approached the building. I breathed in slowly and exhaled, but nothing worked to steady my nerves. Breathe. I kept walking forward, resisting the urge to turn, flee, and pretend none of this was happening. No, I needed to face my problems and not evade them.
I thought about how life could change in an instant, in just a flash.
And then it happened. In the distance, I heard a distinct male voice shout my name. “Lila.” That voice. My mind was in a frenzy. How did I know that voice?
My head whipped around, searching for the source. My eyes opened wide while I scanned the landscape. But the glare from the morning sunbeams impeded my vision. I could see—no one. Out of the bright light stepped a figure, his face only a shadow, obstructed by the intensity of the beaming rays.
This mystery man hidden in his own shadow had a towering, broad-shouldered frame—six feet tall or more. I looked up when he stepped next to me. And suddenly his face took shape.
I saw the most stunningly handsome man I had ever seen in my entire life. The face, now visible, beamed a smile that radiated ear to ear while he looked down at me.
I knew that face and those mysterious golden-brown eyes from my past. And then what played out next seemed to happen in slow motion. I felt like time stood still when I realized it was Blake again, after all these years.
In front of me stood my past, my future, and a smile that could restart the fire within me for an eternity. Momentarily, I became paralyzed by shock. And then a rush of adrenaline shot through me, flooding my body.
Neither of us said a word; we just stared into each other’s eyes in disbelief, until finally Blake broke the silence. “Lila, is that really you?”
I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t. There was a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach—and both twisted at once. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. And there I stood, wide-eyed with an enormous smile until finally I came to my senses enough to nod.
Blake reached over, took me in his strong arms, and gave me a gripping hug. He caught me off guard. His embrace had me swooning. And I felt as if my next actions were automatic. Without thinking, I hugged him in return, but my mind spun in a stunned haze.
After a few moments, he released his grip on me, and I started to stumble, fighting for my balance. In the next instant, he caught me, stabilized my body, and stood me up straight. How embarrassing is that? I am a bumbling clown. I haven’t seen him in all these years and I fall over looking at him!
With his hands still on my shoulders, he looked down into my eyes. “You remember me, right? Blake, from college?” he asked, chuckling softly.
Finally, I gave him an ecstatic smile and found my words. “Of course I remember you.” No one forgets their first love. And no one forgets the first passionate touch . . . or especially, the man who takes your virginity. Your first love—that person will stay in your heart forever.
He shot back a mischievous grin, very similar to the one that made my heart flutter years ago. Could this gorgeous man really be Blake? Serendipity!
I nervously studied him. The years had been good to Blake. His chestnut brown hair was sun-streaked with slight hints of yellow. The highlights interlaced various strands that framed his face. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through his bangs that brushed to the side in a slight wave. Oh, such are the thoughts of a woman. A man simply would think his hair is brown.
His face appeared more sharply defined, without the baby fat, and his cheekbones were more pronounced than when I knew him. His face looked freshly shaven. He smelled like aftershave. But what stood out the most were his eyes; I remained captivated by those eyes that looked the same—all these years later. His eyes were an unusual shade of brown; they were more golden than dark with a unique brightness and intensity. The only difference from years ago was that the corners now wrinkled when he smiled. We both have had many smiles over the years, it appears. Mine crinkle, too, Blake.
At one time, I thought they were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. And today I was still entranced by his striking appearance.
He startled me. “Do you still live in Raleigh?” he asked. His voice seemed deeper, sexier than I remembered, with no trace of boyishness in it.
Before I uttered a word, I continued for a brief instant, admiring his form. He was impeccably dressed. Blake seemed taller than I remembered. I didn’t recall his thick neck and shoulders being so broad, like an athletic superstar. Oh my, that powerful body he still had! And from the look of his physique, he spent a lot of time engaging in physical activity. Whatever he did, it worked for him.
Eventually, I came to my senses enough to answer him. I kept my gaze steady on his face. “My parents moved to Florida a couple years ago, but I never left town. I live a few miles from where we grew up,” I said.
“Then you live close to my parents because they still live in the house I grew up in.” He sighed as if longing for those days from his youth. “I moved away years ago when I joined the Marines.”
“Wow . . . Blake.”
“You seem surprised. Don’t you see me as a career military officer?” he asked.
My look must have intrigued him. I wondered if my mouth had fallen open. “I admire your dedication to our country, immensely. I’m just stunned to reconnect with you after so many years.”
“I’m shocked to see you, too.”
“And there’s so much I don’t know about you. I guess I’m sad that we lost touch,” I said.
He was wearing the same mesmerized expression as the day I first met him. “Is it too forward to tell you I’m captivated and startled by your timeless beauty? You really haven’t changed much over the years.” Without turning his gaze away from me, he continued. “Honestly, in my mind, I can still see you wearing your gymnastics leotard.”
I giggled. “Well, that won’t happen again. You better use your imagination on that one.”
“Not that I’m surprised, but you still look athletic and carry yourself with the grace of a dancer, although now you have those beautiful curves,” he said.
I never was a thin woman, but loved being athletic and strong. I was sure my face had filled out, too. And thank goodness he was calling my extra weight curves.
Sure, curves . . . love it.
His gaze lingered as he continued. “But most of all, I’m still mesmerized by your striking teal eyes. They’re almost iridescent, like a peacock feather.”
His kind words thrilled me, but I couldn’t help wondering if he noticed how the corners of my eyes crinkled when I smiled, especially standing in the bright sunlight.
I tried not to be self-conscious, but I could tell he continued assessing me. I just hoped I received a passing grade. From the look of his upward curved lips, I believed the review was favorable. Or so I hoped.
More than anything, I felt overwhelmed by nervous energy, enough to make me bite down on my lower lip. It took a few seconds to register the pain, but then I thought that at least the pressure from my teeth would give my pouty lips a tinged red hue.
Since I skipped makeup this morning in my haste, maybe this action gave me a much-needed burst of color. Leave it to a woman to think like this, to turn a case of nerves into a fashion and makeup opportunity.
My nervous lip-biting response did not go unnoticed. His eyes followed my tongue when I brushed it across my mouth as if maybe my lips enticed him, making him want to kiss me again. Or possibly I was confused by my own desires because I wanted to kiss his perfectly sculpted lips. They were irresistibly sexy. I had an urge to lean over and press my mouth to his. And here we were standing—at arm’s length away.
From the awkward pauses in our speech, I think we both, for an instant, felt like gawky teenagers again. After staring for what seemed like an excessive amount of time, Blake finally blurted out, “I just dropped my dad off for his medical appointment. My mother is picking him up as soon as she runs her errands, so my morning is free. It would be great if you’re availabl
e to get a cup of coffee. Would that—”
I nervously interrupted him. “How are your parents?” I asked with keen interest.
He looked down and clenched his jaws. “I’m sad to report that my father has early stages of Alzheimer’s, but we’re all making the best of a bad situation. My mother is an amazing caregiver for him. And I have been doing my best to help them.”
“I’m sorry they’re going through all of this. You know, I always admired your parents.”
He sighed. “I often feel guilty because I can’t help as much as I would like. And my younger brother, Brady, moved to Hollywood, seeking fame and fortune, and never looked back. I’m sure you remember him.”
I nodded. Of course, I remembered his brother. They looked like twins. And I could tell all of this news about his parents was a difficult admission for him, and I appreciated that he shared it with me. I could imagine that caring for ailing parents could create a strain. His parents were good to me years ago, and I suddenly found myself wishing I could help them.
Before I could discuss the topic further, he asked about my family. I stammered as I reluctantly gave him sketchy details from my life. Blake took this as his opportunity to ask, “Can we go somewhere more comfortable to get reacquainted? How about we go somewhere quiet and talk?” He looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Well . . .”
He persisted. “Let’s get coffee and catch up on our lives and share some old memories. There’s no harm in sharing a drink or two and getting reacquainted.” Although he posed it as a statement, we both knew it was a question.
I nodded. “No harm in that, right?” I acted cool as if I needed the idea to percolate through my mind. In reality, I found myself so excited that I wanted to jump for joy. I could hardly think of anything else.
“Remember that bakery and coffee shop we loved on Main Street? How about we meet there in an hour?” he asked.
“Yes, perfect.”
“Here’s my phone number if a conflict occurs,” he said, handing me a card and let his fingers linger on mine.
We exchanged good-byes. I rushed inside the office building and took a huge, gulping breath. Blake again after all these years!
One last glimpse of him; I need one more look-see.
And with that thought, I pressed my body flat against the interior wall and slowly turned my head and peeped out the window. A stolen moment, or so I hoped.
But to my surprise, he turned and looked, too. He sees me. I know he sees me.
He winked in my direction and turned forward. I watched his figure get smaller and smaller until he disappeared behind a row of cars. Was that a wink or was that a lopsided narrowing of his eyes from the sunlight? Or am I overthinking things again?
I slumped forward, hiding behind a tall fern, and peeked out for another glimpse of him. He was gone.
And with a couple of minutes separating us, my thoughts became a little clearer. I quickly realized seeing him again reminded me of a way I used to feel. Unfamiliar thoughts raced through my mind. And a wave of emotions cascaded through me. I recognized for the first time in years what had been missing from my life: passion for a man, but most of all passion for life. I couldn’t help but wonder if the universe was sending me a message. And I am listening!
It took a little while longer to regain my composure and then I raced from the building. I scurried toward my car with the intent of returning home, freshening up, and regaining my thought clarity before meeting Blake.
From the car, I called the doctor’s office and apologized profusely, fibbing that I couldn’t make my appointment today. I explained, rambling in too much detail, how I needed to review my overbooked schedule before I could set a new appointment.
And then I tossed the telephone into my purse and pushed the thought of rescheduling the doctor’s visit to the back of my mind. I felt excited all the way home, like the first time he asked me on a date, so many years ago.
Chapter 5
The coffee shop, Main Street Bakery, where we agreed to meet was around the corner from my house. The business had changed hands a couple of times since I started coming here as a child. The brick front had been repeatedly painted over in a creamy white, and the black awning looked new. It took only a few minutes to get there, but I spent the entire hour getting ready. I had makeup to put on, hair to brush, and clothes to change.
With my stomach tied in knots at the thought of our reunion, I walked slowly to the entrance. How many years had it been since we dated? Many. I hesitated in the doorway, smoothed the wrinkles from my skirt with hands that trembled slightly, wet my lips, and threw the bakery door open.
I was met with the sweet smell of warm cinnamon and fragrant coffee wafting through the air, a heavenly blend of aromas. Before stepping beyond the entryway, I took a deep breath and viewed my surroundings. The coffee shop was nearly empty. There were a couple of cashiers working and one attractive man sitting alone reading the local newspaper, The News and Observer. I looked across the empty seats. Even from a distance, it was obvious that was Blake because there’s no mistaking his flawless profile.
The moment seemed surreal while I walked to his table. I could see his head tilted down reading, and I wondered if he could feel my presence. My mouth suddenly went dry as I observed him pull the paper closer to his face and shift in his seat.
In the next instant, he tossed the paper onto the table, glanced up, and instead of saying a word, he just smiled broadly. It was an exuberant, maybe relieved, grin. For a minute, our eyes fastened; I felt my heart beat faster, but neither of us said a word. As my eyes stared into his, I was dazzled by their sparkle; they still had their mystical powers. Quit hypnotizing me with your eyes, Blake.
His jaw appeared to flex as if rehearsing what he was about to say. When he finally found his words and spoke, he did so slowly, with emphasized pauses and a hint of a drawl. “I’m glad to see you again. Your smile still warms me up inside.”
“Well, that’s quite a greeting. Thank you.”
He motioned to the empty chair across from him for me to sit down. “Seriously, you have grown into such a lovely woman. How is it possible for you to be more beautiful now than in college?”
“I have to compliment you, as well. You left me fumbling for words earlier. You’re a handsome man.”
“Thank you. Don’t take this the wrong way, but that awkward young girl I once knew has blossomed and matured into a sophisticated and poised lady,” he said, making me blush. His kind words were music to my ears, and just what I needed to hear. I couldn’t help but wonder when the last time was that my ex-husband told me how lovely I looked.
The reality was, I couldn’t remember, not that it mattered. Even if Peter had said the right words, he never looked at me the way Blake just did. Blake just looked at me with the same expression of excitement as a child first seeing the toys Santa left under the tree on Christmas morning. I think every woman should be lucky enough to have a man look at her with such excitement at least once in her life. Lucky me, today!
But I also enjoyed the view seated in front of me; I was still attracted to him—maybe even more than in college—with his intelligent, inquisitive eyes perfectly balanced by his chiseled chin. He looked almost the same as he did years ago.
I noticed his furtive glance at my left hand at nearly the same time I was checking his finger for a wedding ring. Oh, relief. Nothing. Why didn’t I think to look for that earlier? I must have been in shock from seeing him again.
“You switched outfits.” He smiled and added, “And you look fabulous.” He was very observant and had noticed I changed out of my blousy sundress and into a more form-fitting outfit—a slim navy skirt that hugged my curves. I felt thrilled that my efforts were rewarded. I loved every second of his attention.
Not trying to be explicitly sexy, but at the same time, I was meeting my extremely handsome ex-boyfriend, so I left the top three buttons of my white silk blouse open, slightly revealing my ample cleavage. Although
I learned how to play up my femininity, I preferred to think I was beautiful on the inside. Either way, Blake made me feel special today. And ignited.
I noticed Blake’s eyes slip down to the opening in my blouse. His eyes were drawn to my full breasts, and then moved back up to my face. He gazed at me, almost dreamily. He looked as if he had become absorbed in thought about the first time he explored my body. Our faces mirrored each other with our expression of yearning—pining for those days of lost innocence and the exhilaration of first touches.
Blake’s lowered gaze that fixed on my buttons made me wonder what it would feel like if he eased them open and slowly slid my shirt down my arms, exposing the swell of my breasts as he stroked his fingers across my willing flesh.
The waitress interrupted my fervent thoughts when she stepped next to our table for our drink orders. And then she promptly returned with two coffees.
Before I knew what had happened, Blake and I were talking effortlessly about old times. We reconnected quickly, rekindled our long-ago friendship. In just that brief time, Blake lifted my spirits with his hearty, contagious laugh. I remembered his positive energy and happy-go-lucky personality from years ago.
As the robust brew slid down my throat, I contemplated the situation. Something inside me was definitely coming back to life. For the first time in months, I felt energized.
Blake gave me a boyish grin. “I can’t believe we ran into each other today. Fate must want us back together, at least as friends.”
I lifted my coffee mug. “Cheers to friendship.”
He tapped his mug to mine. “You always had a way of making me laugh and I still think you can light up a room with your cheery disposition. You have that same quality you had as a young woman.”
His kind words made me question a future with Blake. Should we give this a second chance? Is he even interested? But we hurt each other the first time. Maybe he was actually the one worth suffering for. As the saying goes, everyone is going to hurt you at some point. You just have to figure which ones are worth the pain. But this time, if we try again, I would be going in with my eyes wide open, especially fresh from my recent heartbreak.