This Love

by Hilaria Alexander

  “I’m not doing anything,” he said, immediately bringing his arms down and hiding them behind his back, biting his bottom lip to hide a smile.

  “Oh, well. Go have fun with your friends, I guess,” I told him, nodding in their direction. “Enjoy the victory lap.”

  I turned away, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him.

  The look in his eyes told me instantly he was up to something. He showed me what he had in mind a moment later, when he cradled the back of my head and dipped me slightly, giving me a kiss on the lips in front of everybody. My lips did part, but it was more in shock, as I wasn’t really trying to reciprocate his kiss. He took advantage of it, capturing my tongue with his and taking my breath away. His hair fell on my face, which was good, because it kept my face hidden from everyone. His mouth had magic powers, because despite our audience, I relaxed in his arms, relishing his touch. I tensed up again, however, and broke our kiss when someone started whistling.

  I stood up, and when I met his eyes, he had a huge grin on his face.

  “Might as well give ’em something to talk about, sweetheart,” he said in his southern drawl.

  He let go of my wrist, and I gave his hand a squeeze before turning away.

  Helga had come out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was about, and apparently Johan had just explained to her what she’d missed. She was stifling a laugh hiding her face behind a dish cloth.

  “Not you too!” I cried in a petulant tone. She gave me a hug, still laughing. I resisted her at first, and then I hid in the crook of her neck.

  She took my arm under hers, and we went back to the kitchen.

  “Come on, now you need to tell me everything,” she cooed, hiding a smile.

  I groaned and rolled my eyes.

  Lou came to the back to tell me he had to go meet the owner of the houseboat.

  He had called him to tell him about the ceiling leaking, but the owner hadn’t been able to come by earlier in the morning.

  I was alone in the kitchen, so he playfully took me by my hips and pushed me against the counter. He took his sweet time kissing my lips over and over, studying them in between kisses. I was in the middle of baking something, and my hands were covered in flour, so I had to keep reminding myself not to touch him; it felt like torture.

  “I can understand a little now why you wanted to put a stop to this before,” he said, interrupting the kissing.

  “What?” I asked, confused, still in my kissing daze.

  “I can see now how you can get carried away doing this. I probably would have gotten you in trouble,” he laughed. “The more I kiss you, the more I want to keep doing it,” he smiled. “Especially now that I know what it feels like to be inside of you,” he added, whispering the words in my ear.

  I smiled like a fool, unable to contain my happiness. As I looked into his eyes, I knew his words were true, and I felt the exact same way about him. Even after we kissed, his lips were all I thought about, and now, now it was going to be even worse, because every time I’d also be thinking about his skin on mine.

  He gave me one last, soft kiss before he left, and I wondered if he was the type of guy that always told you where he went, without disappearing on you. I liked that in a guy, but I didn’t like the fact that I was already imagining our life together. In two days, he would be gone.

  Later that night, I got to see the apartment he had been renting. Well, that wasn’t completely accurate, because as soon as I got there, we went straight to the bedroom. I got to see it afterwards, and wasn’t too surprised to find out that you could see the pancake house across the street from one of the windows.

  “Nice view,” I said cheekily, smiling at him.

  “Not as nice as mine,” he replied, removing the sheet I had draped around me.

  We fought about going out or staying in. I wanted to take him somewhere, since this was his second to last night in Amsterdam and I knew Helga and Johan had something already planned for him tomorrow night; he claimed he had no interest in going anywhere, and he just wanted to be alone with me. When he said the words—all while kissing my shoulder—it sounded so hot my skin was set ablaze with desire. It would have been stupid to pass up on such an invitation. The apartment he had rented was small but nice. It was just a one bedroom apartment on the third floor with a living/kitchen area. The furniture was modern and new, the walls were painted gray, and most of the décor was in shades of white and creams. The place looked comfortable, livable. The owner had done a really good job; you could almost feel at home.

  We ordered food, ate and soon after we ended up in the bedroom again. I asked him to play something just for me. He took out his acoustic guitar and played a couple of songs I had never heard before. I liked that right before he started singing and playing he took a deep breath, just as if he was on a stage somewhere and didn’t want to mess up.

  He wanted me to play something for him too, so I took the guitar from him and started playing one of his older songs. I had looked some of his stuff up and learned to play this one song a few days ago.

  The smile that broke on his face in that instant was worth keeping the secret. It filled me with inexplicable joy. We played, and sang, and talked for what seemed like hours. For once, I had gotten the whole evening off and I didn’t have to rush to be anywhere.

  I ran my fingers over the calloused fingertips of his left hand over and over. I felt like I needed to memorize them for when he’d be gone.

  I kissed each one of them, and when I was done, he attacked me with his mouth again, kissing me until I had to catch my breath. I had never felt more cherished, more loved. When I opened my eyes, I found him staring at me, giving me one of his intense gazes that made me fall for him in the first place.

  “Who was your first?” he asked.

  I smiled at him but rolled my eyes playfully.

  “My private piano teacher,” I said, defiantly.

  “What?” he asked, and I could hear the surprise, if not shock, in his voice.

  “Relax,” I said shrugging. “Don’t look at me like this is the most scandalous thing you ever heard. I was eighteen. It was legal.”

  “He was your teacher.”

  “It happens all the time,” I told him, making a face. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Musicians are notorious for their vices and the shenanigans that happen backstage,” I teased him.

  He laughed but shook his head. “You should know by now I’m not one of those ‘musicians,’” he said, making air quotes. “I don’t really follow the rock star lifestyle.”

  “True.”

  “Tell me about this guy.” He gave me a tip of his chin telling me to go on.

  “Like I said, he was my private piano teacher. Considering the fact that I was eighteen, I already didn’t want to play anymore, and I was more interested in learning about male anatomy. I had only kissed a couple guys when I was fourteen. I didn’t care about classical music that much anymore. I was lonely and horny, and I wanted to learn about sex. Nothing wrong with that, right?”

  He bit his lip and tried hard to hide his smile. I could tell he was enjoying it though.

  “You’re something else,” he smiled.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It is a compliment,” he said grinning. “So, how long did it last?”

  “Not very long. He was in his mid-twenties, and he was talented and passionate—about music—and was highly recommended by the people in our circle. He was really cute, with messy blonde hair and blue eyes. That’s really why I started flirting with him…”

  “You started it?” he asked, surprised. “Good Lord!” he laughed and gave me a nod to continue.

  “Yeah, and at first he was almost like Schroeder in the Peanuts, totally oblivious and indifferent. I had to make my intentions very clear.” I blushed a little because I had never told anyone the story. “It’s not like it took that much courtship on my part. He was into me, but he constantly felt so guilty about it,
and it took the fun out of the whole thing. He felt bad betraying my parents’ trust, he thought eventually they would find out. We never went out together or even tried to date, because he was so paranoid. In the end, it was fine by me to just have sex with him. I wasn’t making progress though, because I wasn’t practicing, and he thought sooner or later my parents would find out. I got tired of it, and I told my mom and dad we had to find another teacher because I didn’t like his teaching method; surprisingly, they agreed to do what I asked.”

  “And you never saw each other again? He just let you go?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, we didn’t have that much in common, and he stressed me out with his constant worrying. When we ended our teacher-student relationship, neither one of us sought the other again.”

  He gave me a long, deep kiss. He leaned in and said,

  “I can’t believe he just let you go like that.”

  “Well, you know, it was just physical attraction. I wasn’t in love with him or anything,” I trailed off regretting my words. The last thing I should be doing right now is saying too much and making things more complicated. Thankfully, Lou didn’t catch any hidden meaning.

  “I just can’t imagine that with you,” he leaned in and kissed me on my neck.

  “Nuh-uh, no, you’re not getting out of this. It’s your turn now.”

  “My turn for what?” he asked innocently.

  “Ha-ha, nice try! Who was your first?”

  “Annie, she was the daughter of a rancher I used to help out during summers.”

  “You? Helping out on a ranch? For some reason, I can’t even picture it!” I exclaimed.

  “It was during my acute country phase,” he admitted, looking a little bashful and downright adorable, which made me laugh even more. I ran my fingers through his hair and asked him more questions.

  “I was sixteen and she was seventeen. Just like your first, I was afraid her dad would find out and I’d get fired and ratted out to my parents. I wasn’t her first, which made me feel terrified. In the end, it was better to have someone who was a little more experienced than me. I literally had no clue what I was doing,” he laughed and I laughed along with him.

  “Did you have long hair back then too?”

  “No, I don’t think I did. I think I had my hair long around fourteen or fifteen, but maybe not that summer. It was too much working outdoors with long hair in the Tennessee heat.”

  “When did it end?”

  “Between us? It ended at the end of summer. I had been staying in the countryside with my grandparents, and I went back to Nashville.”

  “Did you stay in touch?”

  “I think she wrote to me a couple of times, but I never replied,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head, a little sheepishly.

  “Lou!” I yelled, looking at him in disbelief.

  “What do you want me to say? I was young and stupid, I didn’t know how to treat a girl.”

  “Well, I sure hope you have figured it out by now,” I teased him.

  He leaned over me, keeping a hand under my jaw and running the other from my chest to my hip. His touch, combined with the way he studied me made me shiver in anticipation.

  “Let me show you, babe,” he said seductively, his voice a low growl, “and then you can tell me if I know how to treat a girl or not.”

  CHAPTER 11

  When I got ready in the morning, I had to have a pep talk with myself in the mirror. Things had gotten out of control in the last few days, and yes, for the first time I had fallen for a guy, but that didn’t mean life from now on had to revolve around him, or around the fact that he was going to leave. Tomorrow. No more Lou coming in the morning with his smiles just for me. No more kisses, no more feeling his hands on my skin. No more music with him. From now on, I’d be back to playing by myself. I knew that music, in any form, would always make me happy, but I had only discovered in the last few weeks how enjoyable it was to play with someone else. I tied my hair in a ponytail and gave myself one last look in the mirror. You’re going to keep your shit together today, I told myself before I left the room. I nodded to my reflection and hoped I was going to be able to keep that promise.

  My plan was to act like this was a regular day, but I guess my employers didn’t get the memo. Fifteen minutes before opening, Johan and Helga were already driving me crazy, being a lot more attentive and sweet than usual, like I was a porcelain doll they were trying not to break.

  Lieke was finishing up her breakfast. I took both of them by the hand and talked to them in the kitchen before we opened up.

  “I’m going to need you two to cut it out.”

  They looked at me like they didn’t understand what I was hinting at, and I realized maybe I had to be a little more specific.

  “I’m going to need you to treat me like today is just any other day. Yes, Lou is leaving tomorrow, but please, let’s not make it the end of the world, right? This is just a regular Friday,” I said, looking at each one of them in the eye, trying to sound determined.

  Johan smiled somewhat uneasily at me, gave Helga a look, nodded in my direction and left the kitchen.

  Helga, on the other hand, looked like she was on the verge of tears already. Oh, good Lord. Now I was going to have to console her.

  “It’s going to be okay, really,” I assured her, giving her a hug.

  Tears brimmed her eyes. She gave me a kiss on the cheek, and she said, “You’re so brave and strong, Ella. God zegen je.” I figured that meant something along the lines of “God bless you.” She went to check on Lieke and I stood in the kitchen, thinking about the words she just said to me, brave and strong. I had no idea I was such a great liar.

  I saw him later that morning and, surprisingly, we had a few light-hearted exchanges. There was no tension, thank God. The pancake house was busy, and for a good chunk of the morning I didn’t have time to dwell on my thoughts or feelings for him. He played a few songs on the piano just like he had done the last few weeks. Helga reminded me to tell him about tonight.

  I had him follow me to the alley at the back of the store. As soon as we were alone, his hands were everywhere and he was kissing me senseless. I almost forgot what I was supposed to tell him.

  “Okay, so here’s the deal. I was told you have to leave, and you can’t come back until seven. Get your vocal chords warmed up.”

  “Will I be the only one singing? Or will you sing with me?”

  “We both will.”

  He stole another kiss and lowered his forehead to mine. I cradled his face and kissed him everywhere: on his forehead, on his eyebrows, on his high cheekbones, on his chin, on the spot on his cheeks where his dimples would appear when he smiled. I only had a few hours left with him, might as well enjoy every moment I could get.

  “If we’re going to be the ones playing, shouldn’t we work on a set list of some sort?” he asked, sounding a bit worried.

  I smiled at him when I saw the puzzled expression on his face.

  “Look at you getting all professional,” I said, still holding him. “It will all be very informal. We can decide on the spot. I just told you to warm up your vocal chords so you would know there’d be singing.”

  “When do I get to say goodbye to you?” he said sweetly, in a low voice.

  Never was the first word that came to mind.

  “Later,” I replied with a wink. This goodbye was going to hurt like a bitch, but I was going for one last hurrah.

  Before he left, he pointed a finger at me and said, “Seven o’clock.”

  I gave him a nod, and he slipped out the door.

  When Johan first talked to me about tonight, I thought he wanted to have a somewhat intimate goodbye for Lou, but along the way the plan had slightly changed and Johan had even gotten Hendrick to help out too. He hadn’t gone back to London yet and was able to help us find someone who’d let us borrow two microphones, a couple speakers, and a guitar amplifier. Helga had adorned the place with the same party lights she had us
ed for my birthday. Johan didn’t have a liquor license but had told everyone to bring their own beer. He and Helga provided other beverages and a few trays of sandwiches and other appetizers.

  I found a CD of old R&B songs I was sure Lou would like and put it on.

  Everyone who knew him started showing up before seven, bringing their drinks with them. By the time seven rolled around, the party atmosphere was already in full swing.

  I was wearing a floral short-sleeved dress for the occasion, with a wide skirt above the knee. The print had purple and pink flowers against a white background. I had paired it with my black combat boots, and somehow the contrast between the dress and shoes made the ensemble work better. I put on a little more makeup than usual, choosing a bright pink lipstick that almost matched the pink of the dress. My hair was as wild as ever, but I liked it that way. I didn’t want to arrange it in a complicated hairdo like my mother always wanted me to. I had gotten my curly hair from my father, while she had straight, dark hair. All my life she had tried taming my wild curls, and we would always butt heads before a recital, because, in her opinion, I couldn’t present myself less than perfect to the audience, with my wild mane moving uncontrollably. But that had always been one of the things I loved the most about my hair. I loved when it moved as I moved to the music. Taming my hair was just another aspect of my parents always trying to tame me. Thinking of them, I felt a little pinch of sadness in my heart, but as I examined my reflection in a mirror of the old bar, I saw I looked beautiful. I was happy and confident this was going to be a memorable night.

  When Lou arrived, we said hi to each other with a nod from across the room. His eyes locked on mine but as he tried to make his way to me, he got interrupted by people greeting him and wanting to talk to him. Ally, who had been talking with Helga in the kitchen, handed me a glass of white wine.

  “Chardonnay?” I asked.

  “Moscato,” she replied.

  “Ugh!” I made a face.