What A Person Wants

by Bell, Kris

  “Nope! Just walking around.”

  “Walking around?”

  “Yeah.” I had come to a busy intersecting. As I stood on the corner waiting to cross the street, I realized I hadn’t seen Rhys since the infamous party at my house. An idea struck me.

  “Hey, Rhys, what are you doing right now?”

  “Me? Oh, nothing, just thinking about you,” he said in a low voice.

  “Oh, just thinking about me? I hope they were all good thoughts.”

  “Of course, baby! They are always good thoughts.”

  Baby? Since when does Rhys Pediway call me “baby”? I decided not to press the issue. I ignored the name and asked him why he was thinking about me.

  “Because I haven’t heard from you in a while. I mean, I call you every day to check up on you, and if you’re not rushing me off the phone, you flat out don’t answer. And you never call me back anymore. I need to see how you’re doing, Izzy. I worry about you, and...I miss you.”

  “Aw! You missed me, Rhys?” I asked as I headed to the bus stop across the street.

  “More than you know.”

  “Well, I’ve missed you, too, and I’m glad you called. I know I’ve been acting like a hermit lately, but I’m coming out of my rut now and I’m headed to your place. So, if you’re not home right now, I suggest you hightail it over there and meet me.”

  Rhys let out a throaty laugh. My, he was in a good mood. He told me he wasn’t far from his house, and that he could get there within ten minutes. I checked my watch. It would take me at least twenty minutes to reach his place. No problem. I hung up with him and got my bus ticket out of my wallet. Now, after all that walking, I finally have a destination.

  It actually took me a little longer to get to Rhys’ place over in Hampton. Traffic was killer. By the time I made it over there, I was anxious to see him. It had been so long since I’d been able to hang out with him one-on-one. While stuck in traffic on the bus, I had thought about the last time we had done something together, just the two of us. It was a few days before the party. Rhys and I had met for a quick lunch one day while I was out looking for work. The lunch itself wasn’t much to write home about, but I did enjoy hanging out with my old friend. Between work, Richie, Kyle, my mom and my lackluster writing all vying for my undivided attention, Rhys had sort of fallen off to the side. That was about to change, though. Today was Rhys’ day.

  As I rang the doorbell, I noticed that his wife’s car was gone. Humph! Tiffany must be on another grand shopping spree or somewhere up Chloe Childs' ass. It didn’t matter. I didn’t come here for her anyway.

  I heard the quick pitter patter of Rhys running down his stairs. Before I could so much as blink, he yanked the front door open. He was all teeth and grins, looking as good as ever. He wore a simple white jogging suit - crisp and clean; it made his smooth brown skin stand out even more. I smiled back at my friend knowing I was in for a fun evening.

  * * * *

  “How do you like your drink?”

  “Hmm?” I took another sip of my vodka and cranberry. I sat slouched down on Rhys’ plush couch with my bare feet propped up on his coffee table. I glanced at him sitting comfortably on the adjacent love seat; he was staring at me with an amused expression on his face.

  “It tastes pretty good,” I responded sitting up a bit. “Good” was an understatement. I always said Rhys could make great money as a bartender. The cocktail he had mixed for me was so well balanced I could barely taste the liquor. I could damn well feel it, though.

  We had been in his apartment for a few hours drinking and talking. The sunlight that followed me to Rhys' house had been replaced by the harsh yellow glow of streetlights, which flooded his still open mini blinds. It created a nice ambience. The soft sounds of some music seeping through Rhys' stereo added to the effect. For the first time in a long time, I felt completely comfortable and at ease. I felt peace.

  Or maybe I was a tad bit drunk.

  Rhys still stared at me with a handsome smirk adorning his face. A few times throughout the evening, I caught my old friend sneaking a peek at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. After my interest was highly piqued and I had downed a tall glass of liquid courage, I finally called him out on it.

  “Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

  “What do you mean? Look at you how?”

  “Like you’ve never seen me before.”

  Rhys Pediway gave a wry grin and looked away. Sitting back in his chair, he answered, “Maybe because I am just seeing you.”

  “Huh?” I blinked and tried to process his enigmatic reply. I wasn’t too drunk to have a coherent conversation, but I wasn’t exactly sober either. “What are you talking about, Rhys? Spell it out plain, please. You know I can't think when I drink.”

  He chuckled and looked my way again. His stare was so intense that I had to turn my own gaze.

  “Well,” he began hesitantly, "I was thinking about what our lives might have been like if I married you instead of Tiffany.”

  My mouth fell wide open. “Say whaaa?” What the hell was this man talking about? “You just happened to be thinking about that right now?”

  “No, I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while. A long while.” Rhys' voice had become slightly husky. I was not accustomed to that tone, not from him.

  For a few moments, neither one of us moved nor spoke. The only sound came from the stereo and the ice clicking against my glass as I took a shaky sip of my drink. Rhys sat back in his seat staring straight ahead with a solemn expression on his face. I didn’t know exactly how to respond or where this was even coming from, so I did what anyone does nowadays to change the subject while talking to Rhys: I asked about his wife, Tiffany.

  He immediately balled up his face in disgust. Maybe changing the subject was a bad decision on my part, but I stayed with it.

  “What more can I say about Tiff?” Rhys asked bitterly. “She’s out with her friends right now. She’s been gone all day and I’m not expecting her to come home until the morning. I don’t even fight it anymore. She’ll come and go as she pleases anyway.”

  “But, Rhys, doesn’t she understand that she has a husband at home? What the hell is her problem? It’s not like she needs to be under you all day every day, but she could at least spend a little time at home seeing as how you’re breaking your back to maintain the house by yourself. I can't believe she turned out to be so selfish!”

  Once again, Rhys got that intense look in his eyes and a grin to match. “See, that’s what I’m talking about! How come I never realized how considerate you are?”

  Um…Now I was really confused. There was no way I would be able to keeping sipping my drink and have the kind of conversation Rhys seemed determined to start. Without a word, I set my drink down on the coffee table.

  “So,” I began with a perky voice in the hopes that it would break the budding tension, “you’ve known me for years, but you’ve never noticed I was considerate? What kind of friend are you?” I laughed at my own corny joke knowing full and well it wasn’t funny. Rhys didn’t follow suit. Instead, he got up and moved to sit next to me.

  I didn’t mean to lie back against him when he put his arm around me. It just felt nice to be held. Or maybe I was just really feeling the booze.

  While stroking my shoulder Rhys said, “Izzy, don’t tell me you never thought about us.”

  “Us? What ‘us,' Rhys? We’re good friends. Nothing more, nothing less.” I wished I knew where all of this was coming from. I desperately wanted to finish my drink, but I knew better. This was not the time to get too tipsy.

  “So you mean to tell me you never think about what life would be like if we were together?”

  I looked up hard and long at Rhys. Our faces were close together and our lips inches from touching, but we refrained from kissing. I could tell he wanted to, though. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that when a man starts licking his bottom lip with a heavy gaze in his eyes, he’s ready to pu
t his mouth to work.

  A sudden flash of heat ran through me that I wasn’t prepared to deal with. I sat up quickly and grabbed my drink, downing half of it in one gulp.

  “Rhys, you know I used to think about ‘us’ all the time back when we first met,” I stated after coming up for air. “But you made it clear that you didn’t want to compromise our friendship. I respected that, I respected you, so I did what I could to get you out of my system. It was tough, but in the end, I decided I wanted a friendship with you more than I wanted a date. Not that it mattered. For years, I questioned whether you and I were missing out on something better, but you never seemed to want me. You left me with no choice but to get over you. So, to answer your question: No, I don’t think about 'us.' Not anymore.”

  If I could have erased the sharpness from my words, I would have. Rhys’ expression had turned glum as I spoke.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said after a few minutes. “I know I fucked up with you. I see that now. I had a damn good woman in my life for years, but I never realized it. And now that I can... tell me it’s not too late. Izzy, please?”

  “Rhys, you’re married.”

  “To a woman who couldn’t care less about me if I paid her to!” he flashed out angrily. He moved to the edge of his seat, facing me. “Izzy, I spent too much time trying to keep this broken marriage together and it's not working. Tiffany and I are not going to make it. It hurts me to say it, but it's true, and I'm tired of kicking my ass every time I see you and Richie together.”

  Now I may have been a tad bit drunk, but that little slip of the tongue didn’t get past me. He immediately began fidgeting in his seat. He didn’t mean to say it, but there was no denying the truth.

  “Rhys, I told you to tell it to me plain. What are you trying to say? You want to divorce Tiffany and start a relationship with me? Are you jealous of me hanging out with Richie? What? What is it you want from me?”

  Rhys inhaled deeply as he sat back and pulled me closer. I didn’t fight him. “I want you, Izzy. My marriage to Tiffany is over. I want you. All of you. I know I messed up letting you slip through my fingers, and yes, it does hurt sometimes to see how you and Richie act with each other. You smile more now. I notice how you take care of house and home, how affectionate you are with him. Hell, baby! Your style of dress has even changed for the better, and I’ve never seen you look so delicious before.”

  His voice had dropped even lower and I found myself staring hard at his lips. Suddenly, I wanted to be kissed. I needed Rhys to lay his luscious lips on mine and make my knees weak without standing. But in the back of my mind, all I could think was, why now?

  “Rhys, you’ve had me in your face for years. I’ve seen so many women come and go, and I was even in your wedding. I just broke up with my fiancé three weeks ago, and now is when you choose to tell me that you want me? What gives? Rhys, I don’t know. I can’t answer you.”

  Everything in me wanted to say “yes” and give into the temptation that he was offering. Slowly, I stood up, leaving him on the couch, and gathered my things. It was time to go.

  Seeing me slip on my shoes, Rhys jumped up and grabbed me, making me face him. “Why?” he asked. “Why are you leaving? Is it Richie? You’d rather be with him? Do you think you can make him into the man you thought Kyle was supposed to be?”

  I snatched my arms back and stared at Rhys. That's when reality slapped me in the face. This wasn't about Tiffany or Kyle. This wasn't even about me and Rhys. It was Richie. For the first time, I saw just how much it hurt Rhys to know that Richie and I were close.

  I cleared my throat. “Rhys, me telling you 'no' doesn’t have anything to do with Richie or Kyle! The fact of the matter is, is that we've known each other for years. I waited for you. From the beginning, you knew how I felt about you, but you didn’t want me in your life as your woman. I was only a friend to you. I accepted that. It was a hard pill to swallow, but I did it. I love you, Rhys, so much, but as a friend. I’m sorry, but you’re just too late.”

  I grabbed my purse and proceeded to the door, leaving him behind me, silent. I could feel the tears burning behind my eyes, but I wouldn’t allow them to fall. Not now. Once upon a time, I would have given anything to hear sweet nothings from Rhys. I’d have given him the world if he had only asked for it, but he chose to ask too late. I played by the rules he had created for this friendship. Now that he’s unhappily married to someone else, he wishes he could go back and make things right with me. It doesn't work that way. I refused to backpedal and be someone's second choice.

  I had made it to the front door when I was shoved against the wall in the foyer. Before I could protest or yell in surprise, Rhys’ firm lips were on mine, kissing me.

  Ooh, to be kissed like this was heaven! He played my mouth like no other. He was strong, yet not too abrasive and, oh, so sensual. I couldn’t help it when my hands stole behind his head and held him tight against me. He wrapped his arms around me, his body pressing mine hard against the firm wall. I could feel all of him, and my body reacted. I twisted my hips against him and allowed him to kiss me deeper.

  Rhys pulled away and said, “Izzy. Isabel, stay with me tonight. I’ll make up for all the times I wasn't there. You’ll never want for anything. Just stay with me. Be with me.”

  My mind swam with confusion and temptation. I didn’t know what to do. Just kissing Rhys brought back old feelings that I thought were buried deep and long gone, but here they were just as strong as ever. I wanted him. God, did I want him! But I simply didn’t know if this was what we needed at the moment.

  He was my friend. My married friend.

  I didn’t respond, at least not verbally. Rhys continued kissing me, his lips and soft tongue tasting my neck, face, lips and shoulders, all the while whispering how much he wanted me. My hands kept roaming around his body, relishing the feel of a strong man. But I still didn’t speak.

  Suddenly, right before Rhys bent to kiss my lips again, my phone went off. The vibration and music from my cell phone was enough to jar Rhys and I back to reality. I took a step away from him and quickly grabbed for my phone. I didn't care who was calling; I was just grateful someone interrupted a situation that was moving way too fast.

  It took a few seconds to successfully pull my phone from my pocket with shaky hands, and by the time I did, the caller had hung up. I swiped the screen on my phone and brought up my recent calls. It was Richie.

  “Isabel?” Rhys asked tentatively.

  I looked hard at the man who stood before me. I knew what he wanted, and I'd be damned if I didn’t desire the same thing. After all these years of wanting to be Rhys' woman, he was finally reciprocating my feelings. But Richie...

  What the hell was I going to do?

  RICHIE

  As I sat in the Ruby Tuesdays in Hampton waiting for my so-called date to come back from the restroom, I tried to call Isabel. I don’t really know what had possessed me to do that since my date was due back to the table any minute. A phone call wasn’t very polite to have before dinner, but I did it anyway. I missed her.

  She didn’t answer her phone too much these days, so I wasn’t surprised to get her voicemail. After leaving a simple message to call me back, I hung up.

  “Richie!”

  The abruptness in which my name was called made me turn in my seat to find the source of the voice. I was greeted to a vision of my date rushing back to the table looking as angry as a disturbed bull. Sharae was her name and we had met the day before at a gas station. She was cute and gave me the eye, so after having a so-so conversation while pumping gas, I asked her out. There wasn't anything particularly special about Sharae that made me ask for her number. As much as I would hate to admit it out loud, this chick was just something to do.

  “Richie!” she called again, just as loud and ghetto as before.

  “What?” I moved to stand up from our booth and was treated to a smack in the face.

  “OW! What the fuck, Sharae? What the hell did yo
u do that for?” I asked holding my cheek. Thank god most of the restaurant was empty. Otherwise, I’d have been really embarrassed instead of just slightly embarrassed. I couldn’t believe this woman just hauled off and popped me in the face. Everything was fine before she went to the bathroom. Boring, but fine.

  “Who do you think I am? Some stupid little girl you could play with and just toss out when you were done?”

  “Sharae, what the fuck?” I repeated. I didn’t know what else to say or do. The few patrons of the restaurant and some employees stopped what they were doing to watch the show unfolding before them. I couldn’t get mad at them for being inquisitive. I was curious my damn self and I was the one getting bitch slapped in the middle of a damn Ruby Tuesdays!

  “Sharae, I don’t have time for games. What’s going on? What the hell are you flying off the handle for?” I asked.

  Sharae put her hands on her petite hips and gave me attitude. She was really tiny in stature, but I think she had a Napoleon complex thing going on because she was loud and boisterous.

  “Uh uh! You’re not gonna play me Richie! I’m on to you. You think you can get a fuck out of me with some cheap food and shit? Nuh uh, nuh uh! I’m classier than that shit! I don’t just fuck with any ‘ole body and I ain’t fucking you! So you can keep your lousy hamburger ‘cause I’m out this bitch!”

  I watched Sharae leave the restaurant popping her neck and running her mouth. I was left standing alone at the table with my mouth hanging open, people staring at me. I didn’t know what the hell had just happened. I wasn't trying to get with Sharae and I made no assumptions that I would be getting some ass. Hell, I just wanted to have dinner!

  Just as I sat down and took a sip of my beer, my waitress came with our dinner. I sent it back to the kitchen to be wrapped up. I wasn’t about to stay here and bask in my humiliation.

  I polished off the remainder of my beer and got my ATM card out of my wallet to pay for the food. That's when she slipped into the chair in front of me.