by Wendy Louise
“Are you happy to eat here or would you rather we eat outside on the balcony?”
“Let’s do the balcony,” I say. It is a beautiful evening.
We move outside and open up all the take-out containers. Ava brings out plates and cutlery and we drink our beers straight from the bottle. No airs and graces for her. I like that too.
“Mmmmm, this food is amazing,” she says as she tucks in to her enchilada. The low groan that is coming from her chest is making it hard for me to swallow. She has to stop doing that, I can’t concentrate. I adjust myself under the table.
“I told you this is the best Mexican you can get in LA. Believe me I’ve tried all of them and you can’t get better than this.”
“Do you eat a lot of take-out, or do you have people to cook for you at your place?”
I need to be careful how I answer that question. I don’t want her to know about the chef we have on staff at the house.
I can’t lie to her though.
“We do have staff at the house. My mother insists on having a chef available to her so she can maintain her figure. He’ll cook for me too, but to be honest I look after myself most of the time. I’m not really fussed about having fancy gourmet meals served up to me day-in, day-out.”
Ava pulls her eyebrows together and gets a little wrinkle above her nose.
I want to kiss it.
“Do you and your mom eat together a lot?” she asks as she picks up a soft shell taco from the plate in the middle of the table.
“No we don’t. My mother and I have a polite distant relationship that extends to the occasional dinner together, which is usually served in the formal dining room of the house. She’s not your typical loving parent Ava, our relationship is complicated.”
I shut the door on that conversation. I don’t want to bring down the tone of the evening by talking about my mother. The truth is that we don’t really have any type of relationship at all, aside from what she has led the public and the press to believe.
I respect my mother, but I don’t even know if I feel love towards her. In truth, I think I could take or leave her. My inability to care about this fact is what alarms me though. I worry that my ability to care about another human being, aside from myself, is tainted because of my lack of parental love and guidance.
Ava opens her mouth to say something further but then pauses and stops herself. I think she realises this is a closed conversation.
“I’m sorry Ethan,” is all she says.
I give her a small tight smile and take a bite of my taco. It really is delicious. “No biggie,” I say as I begin to chew.
She swigs from her Corona, and before she can say anything further I ask her about her home life. Her entire face lights up as she begins to talk.
“We grew up near the beach in Melbourne. My parents still live in the double storey house that they bought when Olivia and I were kids. Mum and Dad have been married for thirty years and still seem so in love with one another. I can only hope to have that with someone one day.” Her eyes gloss over slightly and her mind seems to wander.
I watch as she absently swigs from her bottle again, her plump lips covering the neck.
I think I’ve lost her for a moment.
“Why that look Ava? Who are you thinking of?”
She shakes her head and looks in to my eyes. “Oh no-one. It’s just that sometimes I wonder if meeting the man of my dreams is on the cards for me. The last relationship I had has left me a little jaded.” She gives me a small, sweet smile.
“How so?”
She hesitates.
I’m not sure if she does so because she doesn’t want to talk about it, or if she doesn’t want to talk about it to me. She wipes her hands on a napkin and looks back up at me.
“Well after two years together I found out that he had been cheating on me with numerous other girls. All while talking to me about marriage and a life together.”
“What an asshole Ava.”
Truly! What. An. Asshole!
How stupid could the guy be to let her go?
Ava looks a little surprised by the conviction that I placed behind that statement. I take a deep breath and calm myself down.
I don’t want her to know that I would punch his fuckin’ lights out if he were in front of me. That’s totally irrational and would only frighten her away. In saying that, I hate the fact that some dickhead has done that to her. I want to find him and kick the living shit out of him. My hand is fisting at my side just thinking about it.
“Yeah, you got that right,” she says, eyes staring down at the table.
My heart starts to pound behind my ribs as I prepare to ask her my next question. The answer of which is making me surprisingly anxious. “Did you love him?”
She nods, almost imperceptibly.
“Do you still love him?”
She shakes her head and looks straight in to my eyes. “Not anymore. It took a while to get over it though. I think coming here and putting the distance between us will make it easier too.”
I exhale the breath that I didn’t realise I was holding.
Why should I care if she still loves him? What is it about her that is making me feel like this?
“To be honest Ethan, I’m not one hundred percent sure that I was in love with him. I sometimes think that I was in love with being in love. In love with having a relationship… Someone to rely on that is always there for you. Does that make sense?”
I nod. I get that.
“He was comfortable, we had mutual friends, we were attracted to one another and I grew to love him over time. But I always knew that he wasn’t the one. I think he fit the vision that everyone had for me, you know – good looking, great job, bright future……”
“Oh so you do believe that the one is out there somewhere?” I ask, smiling at her.
“Yes I guess I do, I just don’t believe in all that love at first sight crap.” She screws up her nose when she says that, and damn she’s adorable.
She throws her napkin down on to her plate with a flourish. “Well I can’t eat another thing,” she says. “Do you still want to watch a movie?”
She rises from the table and starts to throw all the empty take-out containers in to one of the bags that I brought them in. In no time the table is cleared. Obviously she’s not like me, and doesn’t leave her shit around for anyone else to clean up.
“Hell yeah,” I say. “What did you decide on?”
I grab the large bag of popcorn that I picked up at the store and take it over to the sofa.
Ava smiles and moves towards the entertainment centre in the middle of the open plan living room. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I ordered a classic – Top Gun - and a recent release…..”
Before she goes any further I say, “Top Gun it is, I love that movie.”
She grins and says, “me too.”
“I feel the need…” I say in my best Tom Cruise voice, and she joins me, “the need for speed!” repeating the famous line from the movie. We both laugh as Ava directs her attention to the large screen TV on the wall.
I settle on to the large sectional sofa, popcorn and beer in hand, hoping that Ava will sit close by me.
I don’t know where to sit on the sofa.
If I sit too far from Ethan, it will be weird. But I don’t want to sit right next to him - that would be worse. I plop myself down next to Ethan, but not close enough to touch.
I really want to sit right in his lap and snuggle in to his chest while we watch the movie, but that goes against everything I’m trying to stick with. I point the remote at the TV and start the movie.
Ethan extends his arm along the back of the sofa.
He doesn’t touch me, but if I placed my head back against the cushion, it could lean on his forearm. We sit in relaxed silence watching the opening credits, but there is a hum of electricity in the air. I can feel it emanating off Ethan, and I’m sure he can feel it coming off me too.
“Turn the lig
hts off Ava; it’s too bright to watch a movie with them all on.”
I get up and turn out the lights, which leaves only the glow from the large flat-screen TV illuminating the room, as well as the twinkling lights of LA outside the vast windows. I sit back down on the sofa, but this time Ethan places his hand along the back of it and rests his right hand on my shoulder, in a seemingly casual gesture, that sends goose bumps flying up and down my arms.
I don’t move, I don’t say anything, I don’t breathe.
I pretend that it does not affect me at all.
I can’t concentrate on a word that Tom Cruise is saying. I don’t even remember what has happened in the last five minutes of the movie, and I’ve see it millions of times.
Ethan’s fingers start to rub tiny circles across the exposed skin on my shoulder. Each rotation sends sparks flying through my veins, and I feel all lit up inside. I try to concentrate on breathing normally and not letting him see how he is affecting me, but I’m failing miserably. Even I can hear the shortness in each breath that leaves my lips.
“Do you want another beer?” he says.
My breath falters as I manage to croak out a breathless “yes” while he rises to grab two more beers from the fridge. I pull my legs up underneath my body and try to get more comfortable on the couch.
Ethan returns with a beer for each of us and resumes his position on the sofa, but much closer to me than before. Now that my legs are tucked beneath me, my knees are angled towards him. He sits right next to me and drapes his right arm lazily across my thighs.
Oh.
My.
God.
I cannot breath!
He looks so calm, so casual, so unaffected compared to me.
How can he hold it together so easily when I’m about to combust?
Like before, Ethan starts to absently draw circles with his fingers but this time on my thighs. If that doesn’t send tingles to places that I should not be thinking about while sitting next to him, then I don’t know what does. I’m trying so hard to maintain my composure, but he is making it so difficult.
I want to scream at him to stop.
I want to scream at him to never stop!
This is Ethan Drake! The subject of every girl’s fantasy.
What does he see in me?
He could have his pick of any girl in this town.
I don’t have model good looks. I don’t have millions of dollars, I am just me.
Just plain, ordinary Ava Lucas.
I need to remember this before I mess up and move ahead here. This can’t go anywhere, and although I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment, the last thing I need to do is test the dating waters with a Hollywood star.
While I’m trying to rationalise this in my head, Ethan turns his head and stares at me with those beautiful sapphire eyes. His face is lit on one side from the television screen and he looks edible.
Delicious.
My breath stutters as he looks from my eyes to my lips and back to my eyes again. I bite my bottom lip and try to remove my gaze from his. I can’t think straight when I’m looking at him.
Before I think of my next step, he leans in towards me.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he warns, as if he is giving me a chance to say no.
But then his warm, sinful lips touch mine.
Once our mouths meet - I’m a goner.
I couldn’t even try to stop this if I wanted to.
Ethan kisses me slowly and with purpose.
This is different to the kiss we shared at the party. That was more primal and desperate. This is sweet, soft and deep, but the effect is no less profound. My body is still reacting in the same way, desperately wanting his.
He drags me on to his lap and I go willingly. He manoeuvres me so my legs end up either side of his, so I’m straddling him. I curl my arms around his neck and tangle my fingers in to his hair, tugging it slightly as we kiss. Ethan’s arms are anchored to my hips, his fingertips biting in to my flesh.
Our tongues flash in to each other’s mouths and continue to curl and swipe around each other. Ethan controls the kiss and takes his time. We are eating at each other but taking in every moment of it. He brings his hands up to cup my face, each warm palm resting on my cheeks. He tilts my head slightly and changes the angle of the kiss, so that we can reach every part of the other’s mouth.
Heaven!
Pure.
Heaven.
I become bold and drag my hands down his chest. I’ve wanted to feel his rock hard muscles since I saw him working out today. His chest is hard and firm beneath his clothes. Warm tanned skin, just waiting for my touch. My finger drags down further and I can feel every plane and every ab on his stomach. I can count them all under my fingertips, and he has a bonified six pack.
And Oh God can he kiss.
He could give lessons.
His hands move back to my hips and he moves us sideways on the sofa so I’m beneath him and he is hovering over me, supporting himself on his elbows, keeping his weight off me.
“I’m not going to take this too far,” he says, as his eyes search my face, “I just want to touch you everywhere you’ll allow.”
Right now, I would let him touch me anywhere he wants.
His hands move beneath my top and tickle across my stomach and over my ribs. I squirm slightly at the touch, not only because it tickles but because it awakens feelings in other areas of my body, that will soon need attention if he continues. His hands move onward and upward until he reaches the lace of my white bra. He drags a hand across my breast and I gasp at the contact. His palm cups my breast while his thumb rubs across my nipple, causing it to harden at his touch.
I need to stop this; I need to stop this now. But how do I do that when my body is betraying what my mind is saying? I’m powerless to him.
Powerless to what he is doing to me.
He begins to trail small kisses from the base of my ear and down the right side of my neck, causing my head to drop back in to the sofa and my eyes to close. My arms snake up his back, feeling his muscles rippling beneath my touch. As he continues to kiss along my collar bone, I realise that I’ve never been kissed like this before. I’ve never been kissed in such a way that every connection we have causes my entire body to react.
In. The. Most. Delicious. Way.
My hands can’t seem to reach him quickly enough. I want to touch him everywhere at once. His back, his abs, his strong muscular arms….
Our kisses grow more urgent, and I can feel Ethan’s arousal against my thigh. He is hard and hot, and I want him – badly.
My willpower has left the building and all the reasons that I wasn’t going to do this have abandoned me. Right now, I am his, to do with as he pleases.
I trail my fingers down over his chest, his abs, and his tummy towards the waist band of his jeans. I run them across the fabric, dipping them inside where I can feel warm flesh, begging me to touch. Just as I reach to undo his belt buckle, he pulls back abruptly and gazes down at me. Breathing heavily he says, “Ava, we need to stop.”
My eyes fly wide at that comment and my mind screams, “Why the hell would we do that?”
He begins to sit back and pulls me up with him. He runs his hands through his gorgeous hair and takes a big gulp of air in to his lungs.
I straighten up my top, and swipe my fingers across my lips to catch any lip gloss that may be smeared under my mouth. I don’t know what happened, or what I did wrong that caused him to stop, but he looks troubled. There’s a heavy silence in the room. Somewhere in the background, Tom Cruise is shirtless and playing volleyball. That’s usually my favourite part of the movie, but I think we’ve both lost all interest in it now.
“Ethan, I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened. We agreed to being friends right?”
I’m saying these words but I’m not feeling them. Despite my need to stay just friends with him, I regret that we stopped, I didn’t want to. For the time that we were kissing on the
couch it felt right. Something just felt right.
Ethan swivels on the couch and grabs my shoulders. He lowers his face so that his eyes are gazing straight in to mine. Whatever he is about to say, he wants to make sure that I understand him. That makes me nervous. It can’t be good.
“Ava, I stopped just now because I took it too far and I’m sorry. You want to be just friends with me and I didn’t respect that tonight. I apologise. I don’t want you to think that I came here with one thing in mind. I didn’t. I came here to spend time with you and get to know you, and I shouldn’t have done that.”
I want to tell him that I loved what he did.
I want to tell him that I wanted it as much as he did.
I want him to do it again.
And again…
And again…
He takes another deep breath and moves forward so he is sitting on the edge of the sofa. His elbows are on his knees and his chin is resting on his folded hands.
“Despite all of that, after the kiss we just shared, I think I need to go. If I stay I’m not sure that I can respect your wishes this evening. I’m trying really hard to do that, but at this very moment, I think leaving is the best option for both of us.”
Ask him to stay….ask him to stay!
He stands and holds out his hand for me. He pulls me up off the sofa but he doesn’t make any attempt to pull me close.
I am reeling.
I am reeling from the loss of contact.
I am reeling from the fact that he is doing what I have asked of him and I feel nothing but regret.
I am reeling because I want him to throw me back down on to the sofa and continue where we left off.
I am just… reeling.
My insides are churning.
Ethan turns and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair where he left it. “Thanks for a great evening Ava. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My ability to speak has left me as he ducks his head and places a soft dry kiss to my lips. There is more in that one kiss than in any of the previous ones we have shared.
As I watch him leave the apartment, I realise that I have no idea what just happened. Things were progressing well on the couch. He wasn’t respecting my wish to stay friends, but hell, I wasn’t respecting my wish to stay friends either. I can only come to one conclusion. Things obviously went too far, to a place that he was not comfortable taking them. I’m probably reading too much in to all of this. He probably does this all the time. He does have quite the reputation.