Drawn to You

by Jillian Anselmi

  “I feel it too.” There. I said it out loud. I know I want to, but I need space to think. “But I need time to think.”

  He looks at me for a moment, weighing his options. He releases me. “I’ll only go if you can honestly tell me you’ll be okay.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, still winded. He kisses me, brushing the side of my face with his fingers. I close my eyes at his touch.

  “Can you join me for dinner later? My friends are down at the other end of the island today. I have the house all to myself.” He searches my eyes, waiting for my answer.

  “I’d like that.” God, he is beyond sexy, I am so turned on right now. Maybe he is what I need to rid my thoughts of Evan.

  He heads toward the front door. “I’ll come by around six.” Looking sincere, he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I give him a shy smile. “I am now.”

  He closes the door, and I flop back onto the couch. Holy shit. I feel like I just got run over by a truck. What the hell am I going to do? My emotions are all over the map. After seeing Evan today, I realized that I have unresolved feelings for him. I was in love with him for so long; I’m not sure how to stop. We were going to get married, have kids, and spend the rest of our lives together. But being with Chase today, I felt things I never felt with Evan. Sex with Evan was just sex, but Chase brings me to my knees. I get aroused by seeing him, by being near him. He sends tingles down my spine, goose bumps across every surface of my skin. I see myself wanting things with Chase that I never wanted with Evan. But, I need closure with Evan before I can move forward with anyone. Chase included.

  “Liv, you here?” Brenda calls out.

  “In the living room,” I reply, still lying on the couch. I must have dozed off.

  “You okay after your encounter with that douche bag?” She can’t hide the disdain in her voice.

  “He kissed me,” I blurt.

  “Evan?!” she shrieks.

  I roll my eyes at her.

  “No, Chase. And, I kissed him back.” I throw my arm over my eyes. Like a child pretending that if I can’t see her, she’s not here.

  “And why wouldn’t you. He’s fucking hot.” I move my arm to get a look at her expression. She is giving me a good-for-you smile.

  “I don’t know. After seeing Evan today, it sparked some unresolved feelings.” Bren looks at me in horror. “I know. Don’t give me that look. I’m just saying I need some closure.”

  “I’d like to closure my fist to his face,” she growls.

  “Bren, give me a break, will you please?” I sit up. “I need to face him one on one. If I want to have any kind of future with anyone, I need to get Evan out from under my skin. Cut all ties, once and for all.”

  “Liv, I know you. You’ll fold like Superman on laundry day.” She smirks. “He’s a scumbag who fucked your roommate. It wasn’t some random person. Your roommate,” she states. “You can’t come back from that.”

  “I never said I would. I need to make him understand it’s over. Now in other news, Chase wants me to have dinner with him tonight.”

  “Nice. For a rich kid he seems very charming,” Brenda admits. “Not as stuck up as I thought he’d be.”

  “I don’t know. He is charismatic, I’ll give him that. But that’s what an Ivy League education will do for you. I’m not enamored with him just yet,” I say. “He was a very good distraction earlier, though.” I smile. I can’t help it. He’s an amazing kisser. I need to get to know him a little better before I can decide if he’s worth the effort of really getting to know.

  “So, go to dinner with him. I’ll be right here if you need me. There’s plenty of food now that we went shopping. My order from the organic store on the mainland is coming tomorrow too,” she smiles.

  “I hope his cooking is as good as yours,” I tease. “Otherwise, I might wither away to nothing. I guess I should take a shower and get ready. Chase said he’s coming back around six.”

  I come out of the shower feeling refreshed and energized. I have butterflies thinking about being alone with Chase. I need to know more about him. I will not let him put me under his sexual thrall. I wander into the bedroom and search for something appropriate to wear. Not too boring, not too sexy. I find my BCBG floral silk halter dress I brought in case of a party. I’ve had it for a while, one of the staples to my wardrobe. It has a low back but not too short, falling to just above my knees. A pair of black Coach flip-flops and I’m good to go. As I wander back into the living room, there’s a knock at the door. He’s right on time. I motion to Brenda to answer it. I’m too nervous.

  She opens the door and lets him in. Wow, he looks smoking hot. Chase has on a white linen button down Brooks Brothers shirt with the sleeves rolled up and top two buttons undone, Lacoste khaki cargo shorts, and a pair of Prada brown leather flip flops. He looks yummy. I close my eyes to strengthen my resolve. I will behave. I will behave.

  “Hello, Olivia.” He smiles a slow sexy smile that makes me all tingly inside.

  “Hi,” I breathe.

  He looks down at my feet, and his eyes make their way up my body until meeting my own. “You look fantastic,” he murmurs and I blush. How does he do that? I get all shy and giddy from just a sentence. “So, are you ready to have dinner with me?” His eyes are shining.

  Brenda interjects, “You should go. There isn’t anything here, and I have plans.”

  Such a liar.

  “Sure, you do.” I roll my eyes at her.

  He motions me to the door with a wave of his hand. “After you.”

  His cottage is bigger than mine. I was over here once when I was younger. Mr. and Mrs. Chambers invited my parents over for drinks when we first started coming here. There is an open kitchen with an island. Looking out from the kitchen is the living room / dining room. A sliding glass door opens out to the deck, overlooking the ocean. Three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms. A reasonable size for a beach cottage.

  Looking at how Chase is dressed and looking at this cottage, I don’t understand why he’s even here. He’s a North Shore boy. They usually head out to the Hamptons for the summer. “What brought you to Davis? Shouldn’t you be in the Hamptons?” I need to have a filter attached to my mouth.

  ”My family owns a house in Bridgehampton.” Of course they do. “I normally stay out there, but my friends wanted to be a little closer to home this year. Plus they have other friends who are staying closer to Leja Beach.” Ah, Leja. I don’t spend too much time on that side of Davis; it’s in the other direction. He walks over to the kitchen and opens the fridge.

  That answers my question of why they are here, but not why he is here. I sit down on one of the bar stools on the end of the island. “Not that it’s any of my business, but they all have girlfriends. Why are you here stag?”

  He gives me a puzzled look. “I haven’t found anyone worth bringing,” he replies. He pulls some chicken out of the refrigerator, then places a couple of bowls on the island.

  “So you can cook?” I tease.

  “We had a personal chef in the house. When I was young, I would stand in the kitchen and watch her prepare some of our meals. After a while, she’d let me help when my dad wasn’t around.” A slight shadow of a frown crosses his face before disappearing. He places the chicken on a cutting board and starts to pound it. “I’m making Chicken Francaise with creamed spinach. I hope you like it.”

  Like it? French food is my favorite!

  “I absolutely love French food. That’s one of my favorite dishes,” I say, grinning like an idiot.

  “Well then. I hope I can live up to your expectations,” he says and smiles back.

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  “Yes, you can open this bottle of wine. I hope you like white.”

  “Yes, that’s fine.” He hands me the bottle opener, and I pop the cork out with ease. It is a 2002 Domaine Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Folatières. Another French wine. What is the fascination with French wines?
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br />   “French wine with a French meal?” I mock.

  He stops what he’s doing and gazes at me. “I have the simplest tastes. I am always satisfied with the best.” His voice is low and raspy. I start to flush like he’s talking about something other than the food. “A quote from Oscar Wilde,” he clarifies, his lips arching into a trace of a smile.

  “Oh,” I whisper.

  He finishes pounding the chicken and places a frying pan on the stove. He warms up some butter in the pan and turns back to the chicken. He dips the chicken in flour, then an egg-parmesan-parsley mixture, and places the chicken in the pan. He reaches into the refrigerator for the already prepared spinach.

  He is beautiful to watch, so comfortable in the kitchen. Watching him use a knife is making me dizzy. If I tried to cut with the speed he was using, I’d lose a finger. “There must be something else I can help with,” I say.

  “You are my guest, but if you must. In the living room is my iPod. Can you get it for me?”

  “Sure.” I wander over to the living room and find his iPod on the coffee table.

  “I’m full of chicken so pick out a song and hit play. It’s already synced to the speakers in the house. I think some light jazz should do the trick.”

  I scroll down his song lists. Wow, so many. All different types of music. The choices are immense.

  “You have very eclectic taste in music I see,” I say, still scrolling.

  “I like to listen to music dependent on my mood.”

  I look up. His lips arch with a trace of a smile, and his eyes are sparkling. Oh, that smile. What are you thinking? I open the folder marked jazz and scroll down the list of songs since I am not familiar with any of these. I find a piece by someone named Dave Brubeck and hit play. Sounds of a piano, drum and a single saxophone fill the air. It’s lovely.

  “Good choice,” he says. “Take Five is one of my favorites.”

  I sit down on the couch, listen to the music, and watch him finish cooking. He finishes with the chicken and starts on the spinach. He places it into a pan with some kind of cream sauce and tosses it lightly. “Just about done here. Do you need a refill on your wine?”

  “Yes, please.” I stroll into the kitchen. He refills our glasses and brings the chicken over to the dining room table. He has the table all set with china. A selection of candles glow in the center of the table. He dims the lights and motions me to sit. The music changes to something softer, more piano. It’s very soothing. “What’s this?” I wonder out loud.

  He sits down across from me. “It’s called Autumn in Washington Square. Beautiful isn’t it?” He is staring at me, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about the music or me. I flush at his intense gaze. He grabs a pair of tongs and places chicken onto my plate. He finishes serving and sits back down. He raises his wine glass. “Here’s to a beautiful evening with an even more beautiful woman.” Holy fuck. I am flushing crimson. I gulp down my wine and stare down at my plate.

  Regaining my equilibrium, I start to eat. The food is delicious. Better than any French restaurant I’ve been to. “This is amazing. The best Chicken Francaise I have ever had.” The spinach is equally as good, with something in it I can’t put my finger on.

  “Nutmeg,” he answers my unspoken thoughts. “A traditional béchamel sauce has nutmeg in it,” he says. “It’s one of those tastes you can’t quite make out when used in small quantities, but you would notice if it wasn’t there,” he says as if he were teaching a class.

  “You are quite the accomplished chef,” I giggle. His smile takes my breath away.

  “I could teach you, if you want to learn.” His gaze holds mine. I want to look away, but I’m caught. Like watching a car crash, I cannot look away. He cuts a piece of chicken and places it into his mouth, not relinquishing his stare. I blush scarlet and look down at my plate, pushing the spinach around. How does he make chewing so sexy?

  “I’d like that.” My voice is soft, breathy.

  “Please don’t hide from me. I want to look into those gorgeous green eyes.”

  I look up at him. I’m still reeling from the events that took place this afternoon. How did I go from a sobbing mess to sitting here eating a peaceful dinner with this hot Adonis? I’m not sure what to make of what happened earlier. I shake my head and clear my thoughts. “Thank you for dinner. It’s lovely,” I murmur.

  “You are quite welcome. It’s my pleasure.” He gets up from the table and starts to clear.

  “Please, let me,” I say, hoping that cleaning up will take my mind off Evan.

  “Not a chance. You are my guest. Besides, I have another surprise for you. Why don’t you take your wine and sit outside on the deck.” His lips twitch up into a half smile, like he’s hiding something.

  “Okay,” I acquiesce. I grab my wine glass and start to head out on to the deck. He catches me before I get to the sliding glass door to top off my glass. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are trying to get me drunk.” I smile at him.

  He chuckles. “No, that wouldn’t be wise for what I have in mind.”

  Oh my.

  There is a faux bamboo patio set outside complete with couch, loveseat, and chair with an ottoman. I perch myself on the loveseat as it has the best views of the ocean. I take a sip of my wine, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. The ocean air is so calming. I feel at ease.

  The sun has just started to set. Although we are on the south shore and the sun sets on the north shore, you can still see the glow from the beach. We would have a better view on the bay side and sometimes I’ll walk over to the ferry stand and watch the sunset.

  Chase has his glass of wine, as well as the iPod. The house is set with surround sound speakers, including the deck. He chooses a song and hits play. Tony Bennett croons in the background along with a female voice I can’t place. He puts his glass of wine down on the table. “Dance with me.” He is standing in front of me with his hand extended. Waiting. He gazes at me with hooded eyes, and I can’t resist.

  I take his hand, and he whisks me into his arms. We sway back and forth in time to the music. Chase is an amazing dancer and being with him makes me feel like I can dance, even though I have two left feet. He spins me one way and then back into his arms. I drape my arms around his neck and rest my forehead on his chest. His lips are so close to my ear, humming along with the music. Breathing the lyrics “I’ll always remember, that moon glow gave me you.” I get chills down my spine as his breath falls on my neck.

  I look up at him. “You do have this uncanny way of making me forget about life,” I say. “Thank you. You really helped me today.”

  “Anything for you,” he replies, caressing my cheek. “I hope that prick won’t give you any more trouble.”

  “I just need time. I think you’re amazing . . .”

  “But . . . ?” he interrupts still stoking my cheek.

  Staring into those bright blue eyes I take a deep breath. “I need closure before I can move forward.”

  He takes a step back. “Almost forgot. Your surprise awaits you in the kitchen. Come.” He turns and walks into the house. Wait, what?

  Confused, I follow him into the kitchen. He’s holding a torch and browning two small bowls with what looks like custard inside. “You can’t end a French dinner without a French dessert. Have you ever had crème brûlée?” he asks.

  I had once. It was delicious from what I remember. I don’t recall it looking like this though. “Yes, once I think,” I answer, still perplexed by what just happened.

  He finishes browning the dessert and places them on plates. “Would you like to eat in here or outside?” he asks.

  “Outside would be nice,” I reply. He grabs the two dishes, and I follow him out. After setting the two plates on the table, he returns into the house. He comes back out with two champagne flutes and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame Brut 2004. Clicquot is one of my favorite champagnes.

  “In keeping with the French theme,” he says. He places the bottle in
an ice bucket that’s hidden behind the table.

  I dive in to my dessert. It is heavenly. We sit in silence, each enjoying our treat.

  I notice that the music has stopped, and I can hear the soothing sounds of the ocean waves crashing on the beach. I stand up and look toward the beach. The sun has set, and there’s a huge full moon reflecting across the water. Maybe that’s why everyone is acting so crazy today, myself included. I turn back, and Chase is standing behind me with two glasses of champagne. He holds one out for me to take.

  “I thought we could walk out onto the beach,” he suggests cautiously.

  “I would like that.”

  We climb down the steps and walk toward the water. I kick off my flip-flops, sinking my bare feet in the cool sand. It’s bright; the darkness lit by the full moon. I love this time of night just after sunset. Peaceful and serene with no one on the beach for what seems like miles. I sip my champagne, it’s delicious. Chase is close behind me but distant.

  “I hope I didn’t make you angry,” I say, staring into the water.

  “No.” He moves closer. “I want to give you your space, but at the same time, I’m very drawn to you.” He comes up behind me and places his arms around my waist. His head on my shoulder right next to my ear. “I have this need to be near you. I don’t want you to hurt, and I want to make everything alright.” Gently he nips my earlobe, sending shivers down my neck making the hair on my arms stand on end.

  “You have no idea how hard this is for me,” I breathe.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he sighs. “I promise I will back off if you want me to.” He spins me around so I am looking straight at him. He looks so sad, and it tears at my heart knowing that I’m the one making him feel this way.

  “I know Evan and I are over, but I just need some time to adjust. I don’t want to hurt you.” I feel tears starting.

  “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. We can take things slow until you sort out your feelings. I like spending time with you,” he says, his eyes impassioned. He wipes away a stray tear that falls down my cheek.