by Kara Liane
See Meg, I can be witty too!
Finally, I keyed the correct password in, which was “1, 2, 3, 4,” by the way. I know, original and safe, right? I like simplistic, so call me crazy, but it just worked for me. Anyways, I went to my texts and there it was. A message of hope from this sex-god. I read it.
I can’t sleep. I have a surgery in the morning and I need sleep, but I can’t stop thinking about you. If you’re still awake tell me one thing I don’t already know Angel.
Oh my God! Swoon! Heart turn to mush.
This is the kind of moment where you hold your chest and fall over onto the bed. This is one of those times you’ll forever remember. Like John Cusack holding up the boombox to his love interest in the 80s movie Say Anything-kind-of-moments.
OMG, this is my boombox!
I let out the girliest squeal, and probably woke my parents. I can’t believe he called me “Angel.” Maybe he saw the tattoo? No, he couldn’t have in that dress, my back was covered, wasn’t it? Well whatever, I’ll get back to the tattoo thing at another point in time.
Crap! He was surely waiting for a response. My stomach fluttered from a million butterflies in that moment, and my heart was soaring too. I don’t even know how I stayed on the bed. I thought I’d fly away to clouds, and rainbows, and puppies, and ice cream. God, I’m such a dork, I had to laugh at myself. I texted back with my heart in my throat. Okay, correction, I attempted to text back and of course fudged it up several times too. Dang slippery, sweaty fingers of excitement. I curse you to the depths of hell-o-kitty! Anyhoo, I texted back my response.
I like jizz.
Nope, you’re not reading that incorrectly. It is not a typo. Yup, that is exactly what I texted back thank you very much autocorrect!
I’m going to go ahead and say my phone mysteriously changed it. Oh God, kill me now! Where is a rock to hide under?
What I meant to put of course was, “I like jazz.” How my phone miswrote that, I couldn’t tell you—I would be giving it a serious talking to for many hours to come. Before I could even text him back with an apology and find the tact I would need to dig myself out of this one, Dr. Feelgood blared throughout my room, and my phone vibrated in my hand.
Oh, crap! Dr. Hotness is calling. Can I hit ignore? Okay Miss Smartypants, I bet intra-penis is sounding a lot better now, huh?
I winced and decided to answer the call holding my breath, and not even saying hello. I could hear erratic breathing on the other end of the phone, and I closed my eyes knowing full well I had no more clean underwear for this. I decided to brace myself by gripping my pink fluffy comforter. Yes, I’m definitely thirteen. I waited for him to say something. It must have been a few minutes, and finally his breathing slowed down.
All he said was, “Angel…you’re in trouble.”
Boy didn’t I know it. I threw my eyes heavenward and silently thought, thanks texting gods, I’ll never get my wings now!
Chapter 9: Cond-oh!
Caylan
Whew! Thank goodness Alexi was so understanding about the whole situation after I explained it. He did have a rip-roaring laugh about it at my expense, but I laughed right along with him. It was nice and comfortable, and we were falling into something more than just sexual chemistry. He wished me sweet dreams and said he’d think of me as he tried to drift off to sleep. I couldn’t wait for these three days to go by because I was itching to see him now more than ever. I wanted to see his face when he laughed. I wanted to hear him breathe heavily in my ear. I wanted to know all the sounds he made and the way he moved, even while doing ordinary things.
This was becoming something deeper for me so much more quickly than I ever would have thought possible. Even though he seemed to be telling me the same thing, it was still hard for me to accept. But I decided I would make every effort possible to just enjoy and relax, and not have too high of expectations. I didn’t want this to be one of those relationships that it was just all about the chase and then once he had me, it would be over. I had to remind myself, though, that I’m the one who was pushing him away. I’m the one with insecurities. I’m the one that had to go ahead and tell him that I’m a dang virgin only on the third time we met. Yikes!
Alexi…if you only knew what you did to me.
I put my head on my pillow and thought about being in his arms. Him holding me was like embracing the sun. It was warmth, enveloped in comfort, and mixed with contentment. How I longed to touch him. It is amazing how you don’t know how much you want something, until it’s not there in front of you. Was he feeling all these same feelings? I wish I would have let him kiss me after dinner. I even snuck a mint just in case the moment presented itself. Well the moment came, and I chickened out in the end. It was certainly a regret, but one I would hopefully rectify soon enough. Good night Alexi….
***
It was finally Thursday night and the big moment arrived where I would be going to his condo. Meg offered to drop me off because once again, I turned Alexi down Monday night when he offered to pick me up. I didn’t have a plan yet for how I would get home, but I wouldn’t dwell on that right now. I was so excited to see him. We had been texting throughout the week in between my classes, and in between his surgeries and patient visits. Nothing compared to actually getting the chance to see him though. He made me laugh a lot in the texts, and I think both of us steered clear from anything sexual because it would be too hard—no pun intended. Nope, no sexting for us. Bummer!
I decided to wear my jean skirt from last week. The weather apparently started turning back to typical East Coast springtime, so it was cooler this night. I paired the skirt with a blue cashmere sweater with a V-neck. I thought the blue would bring out my eyes, and I knew the cut of the top would give me more cleavage. I wanted to look good for him. I knew that I really and truly liked him when I decided not to wear my signature Converse sneakers. Instead, I opted for a pair of simple black flats. The look was casual, but smart. I left my hair down and decided to forgo makeup. This was a little insurance policy in case it got smudged off, hee hee.
I remembered to also shave practically everything, just in case. I may not know much about being sexy, but I knew to take care of the important stuff for a date. Plus, Meg had reminded me to go with a landing strip, or go completely bare. I’m not divulging yet what I elected for.
After saying goodbye to Meg and air kissing her—since we thought we were so cool—I walked up to his door and rang the bell for him to buzz me in. The area he lived in was a historic part of town, and I admired the rich history this place must hold. The brick building was beautiful, and I could truly appreciate the nod to classic and modern, while marrying the two for the sake of this building. He buzzed me in and I took the elevator up.
When I reached his door, he was already standing there casually leaning against the frame as if he wasn’t already making my heart stop. Oh Alexi, you are charged with assault on my senses in the first degree. How do you plead? It better be guilty as charged, I thought.
I couldn’t help but break out into the biggest smile. I felt like my face would split because he made me so happy just being around him. He returned my smile with a sexy grin, and I wanted him to throw me down to the ground. I didn’t even care about making it inside his place, even though it was like a foot away. Oh, if only.
He was wearing dark jeans that hugged his hips and made me think GQ model. My belly had that feeling like when you drive over a hill really fast and your stomach drops out. Mmm hmm, he was something. He had nice loafers on and a green polo shirt. He didn’t have his collar popped, so that was a good thing. The polo shirt worked on him; it wasn’t pretentious or frat-boy looking.
For the first time, he also sported a 5 o’clock shadow that I instantly wanted to lick. It looked so good on him and gave him that rugged edge, as if he needed more help in the hotness department. I am totally rolling my eyes inside my mind right now. He looked beautiful. I could definitely describe this manly being as beautiful, right? His eyes sparkled
that blue I was coming to adore so much. He seemed so happy to see me too, and once again, swoon!
He moved in and gave me a lingering kiss on the cheek, and I held my breath for fear that I’d moan so loud and embarrass myself. But holding my breath only meant I felt like I’d self-combust. Goodness-gracious-sakes-alive he smelled divine! It was woodsy, and masculine, and yummy. Forget dinner, I’ll take him to go! Whew, I was getting really warm and didn’t have a cloth napkin this time.
Finally he said, “Welcome to my place. I’m so glad you came. As always, you look beautiful. Please come in and make yourself at home. Wine?”
Thank God he was being so formal because I couldn’t handle anything else right now. I needed to come back to my senses. I walked into the living room. It was quite spacious, and branched off from the main entryway. The room was a traditional setup consisting of a couch, coffee table, TV, and sitting chairs, but everything was posh and elegant. I sat on the edge of the couch and perched myself there, not yet ready to melt into the supple leather. My nerves were raging, and I needed to have my wits about me. So I felt that perching like a bird made perfect sense, ha ha.
“Yes, please. Whatever wine you have is fine. You know me and my great confessions. I’ll admit that once again I find myself nervous. I love your condo by the way. This color scheme of black and white has such a contemporary feel,” I could tell I was rambling.
He stood there by the kitchen amused at my assessment. His condo was gorgeous. It was an open floor plan, so I could see him from the couch. He winked at me and turned to get what I presumed was a bottle of wine. I could hear glasses clink, and at that point I let myself inhale something delicious. Whether it was chicken, or what, it didn’t matter. It smelled amazing and my mouth watered. I hadn’t been able to eat all day because of the butterflies.
He came toward me with two glasses, and handed me one. It was red wine and fine by me because I probably wouldn’t even recognize the bouquet once it hit my tongue—I’m going to pretend I know what I am talking about. I gazed up at him. He was a mountain of a man. It was such a heady feeling knowing I was right here, right now, with him.
Before he clinked my glass he asked, “So what should we toast to?”
Hmm. Nothing clever came to mind. So I went with a lame, “How about to health and friends?”
I could see a moment of confusion flash across his face, and then it was gone. He recovered nicely. He replied, “Okay then, to health and friends it is.”
We clinked glasses and I gulped down the wine. I’m sure it was good, but I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t even taste it. Why in the heck did I say “friends?” Ugh! I’m usually way more analytical and insightful about these things before I blurt something out. He kept his eyes on me the whole time probably picking up on everything. Every little move I made, and face I made, he was catching. I knew he was studying every nuance of the situation. Well, yeah, because I went and probably confused the poor man, yet again. Argh! The term “hot mess” came to mind. I just sat there, still perching. Yup, perching like a bird. Bird is the word…oh my God, I’ve for sure lost it now!
He took my empty glass and placed it on the coffee table, on a coaster I might add. For the record, I loved that he did that. Then he walked over to what looked like a fancy smancy stereo equipment system, and jazz began to play.
I coughed and choked on my own saliva because I couldn’t believe he played jazz of all things. He slowly turned his head to me, and that cocky look on his face with raised eyebrows turned me on. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was one calculating, suave, son-of-a-bichon frise. I was not strong enough for this. Was it too early to ask for more wine?
***
Dinner was fantastic! He made roasted chicken, mixed vegetables, and rice. I asked him how he learned to cook. He said that his mom had a professional chef come in from time to time when he was growing up, and he simply learned by observation. Alexi also imparted more information over dinner by talking about his parents owning a house in the Hamptons, and having a condo in New York City. He even briefly talked about a lake house he and his dad would retreat to when they could arrange father-son time for fishing. I got the sense though that he missed a lot of family experiences because of his dad working so much, and because of his mom being so spoiled.
My earlier thoughts about a perfect childhood were quickly replaced. He did convey, though, that his parents were loving and nurturing. So that made me feel marginally better. It was just so different from my childhood.
I told him a little more about me. We talked briefly about my brother and how he was doing. Brent had finally been discharged and went back to his home near the base. He had roommates that said they’d help take care of him, and my parents were going to check in on him now and then.
We even got on to the subject of Alexi’s crazy workout routine. He said there was a gym around the corner from the hospital that he frequented after work most nights. It was no wonder he had the body he did. I appreciated that he kept in shape. This man must be the talk of the hospital. I would love to be in that category of the beautiful people. You know, they’re the ones with looks, money, awesome career, nice things, and a killer bod. I did tell him that one thing I was lucky about was that I didn’t have to workout, and I always stayed the same size. I was one of those girls. I couldn’t help it. I guess I just have a high metabolism or something. I can pretty much eat anything I want.
At one point, I thought the dinner was going to end abruptly when I broached the subject about past relationships. We both discovered that neither one of us had anything that really constituted a relationship. Inwardly I was pea-green when he alluded to his many, many flings. I had no reference for that sort of thing. Then I was a moron for bringing up him recently ending things with a girl. I wanted to know how recent, and who she was. He clammed up immediately, but I managed to extract a little info from him.
“So how recent is recent for you ending things with that girl you were seeing?” I asked.
He looked like he just swallowed something nasty and took a long time with masticating the bite in his mouth. After scratching his head and acting quite uncomfortable he replied, “The night we met.”
Wow! That is…interesting. I didn’t know how to feel about it. Was it because he ended it for me, or himself? I couldn’t tell if he was the monogamous type or not, considering he seemed to be making a lot of concessions and exceptions for me. But I still wondered if I was just some conquest to him.
“Who was she?” the masochistic side of me had to know.
“Her name is Britney, she’s a model. But she’s no one important, or anyone you need to concern yourself with,” he stated.
I knew that he wasn’t going to elaborate further. That chapter would be closed, and the book was put back on the shelf. I couldn’t help but get jealous over the fact that now I had a name for this ex, and she was a freakin’ model of all things! How was I supposed to compete with that? She even got to have sex with him. Probably lots of sex. Oh my God, did they have breakup sex that night? I couldn’t bring myself to ask, so this conversation topic was definitely shut.
I couldn’t finish the rest of my meal for obvious reasons, and by then we had retreated to the comforts of his living room. We were now sitting on opposite ends of his couch. I was no longer perching, and thankfully relaxed into his plush, butter cushions. He was in a relaxed position as well. I even had my shoes off and my legs tucked up under me—I guess you could say I was making myself at home. We were just chit-chatting about senseless stuff, but I loved it. Well, that was until he asked me a serious question.
“So I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Why don’t you want me coming to your apartment? At first I thought it was for safety or because of your parents. But I get the sense it’s something more,” he reasoned.
I dodged the question. I sat there in silence for a second. I wanted to throw him off too. So I fired back with, “Why do you call me Angel?”
Well that
got his attention. He straightened up from his position, and now he was the one perching. “I didn’t realize I called you Angel,” he defended in a shocked tone.
I was surprised by his confusion and informed him that he did in fact call me that Monday night while we were on the phone. He knit his brows together as if searching the depths of his mind replaying our conversation.
“I guess I didn’t realize I said it,” he confessed, maybe to himself and not so much to me.
So he evaded my question too. Well, one of us was going to have to make the first move here. I realized I needed to be brave and offer him another truth. I just didn’t want to get into all this because I didn’t want him to dig and want to know more about our move from Texas.
“In all honesty Alexi, I didn’t want you to see where I live because I’m ashamed. It is modest living compared to our last home in Austin. What we could afford on the outskirts of the city there, is not what we could afford here. A small part of it was safety, and I also didn’t want my parents to grill you every time you came over. I’m sorry, though. I should have let you pick me up. You could take me home, though,” I tried to make amends.
I was also totally trying to distract him with the driving me home thing. I could see his mind working as if all the puzzle pieces were clicking into place for him. See, this is what I was afraid of. I was afraid of his follow-up question. But I needn’t worry because he went in a different direction.
He went with a truth too by expressing, “From the moment I saw you…I thought you were an angel. I am drawn to you. I can’t make it any clearer. Your innocence, beauty, and charm have sucked me right in. I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”