He could cook. I was beginning to wonder if he was good at everything. It seemed a little unfair for him to be sexy and also a great cook. He offered me wine with my meal but I decided water was best. I wanted to remember every second of this particular evening.
Ansel tried to get me to leave the dishes but I insisted on helping. Cleaning the kitchen together was fun. That sounded odd but he made me laugh and each time our hands brushed while loading the dishwasher I felt a small thrill.
After finishing I began to feel the awkwardness of what to do next. Should I leave? Tell him thank you for the day and go? I didn’t want to leave, but he hadn’t mentioned anything past dinner and my car was outside.
He folded the kitchen towel and laid it neatly over the side of the sink. I waited, expecting him to say something before I bumbled my words and sounded silly. For a while I’d forgotten how bad I was with other people. Making conversation was always difficult for me, but Ansel made it seem easy until this moment.
He seemed to be thinking hard on something. Perhaps how to get me to leave? I wasn’t sure I could handle the rejection although I realized that wouldn’t happen. Moving first was vital. That I knew. If I did, this time with him would remain perfect in my memory bank. I couldn’t risk him asking me to leave. There I go . . . doubting myself again. I couldn’t keep doubt out.
“Thank you so much for today, for everything, Ansel, the cocktails, conversation and nap, dinner . . . the whole works. I needed the distraction.” That was true and sounded good, like a woman ready to walk away with a smile on her face.
But before my pride in controlling myself could win over this situation, Ansel about-faced and leaned a hip against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “That sounds like goodbye, Sugar.”
Ansel studied me, his stare displaying his thoughts and concentration. I could see that he was struggling to figure out my motive. I lifted my left shoulder slightly and smiled. “Well, I figure you are ready for some alone time and not having to entertain me.”
He brought his lips together to hide a smile but his eyes still spoke volumes. I replayed my words in my head to make sure I hadn’t sounded silly. What I’d said sounded decent.
“Right now, Sugar, I’m imagining you sitting on that bar behind you naked with your legs open for me. I’m ready to watch your skin flush from the excitement and listen to your sexy little sounds as I pump in and out of you. The fucking battle going on in my head this instant is graphic as hell and hard to shut down. If that sounds like a bad idea to you then you’d better go. I got a taste outside and if you don’t leave, I know I’m not strong enough to keep from taking what I want.”
I had a choice to make here, and I didn’t want to regret my decision. As heated as Ansel’s words made me, and as much as I would think about it when I was alone wondering . . . I couldn’t. Not now. I’d never done that with a man I’d just met. Ken had taken my virginity and I knew very little about sex. My insecurities made this decision.
“I better go,” I said, a simple response that was painful to say. If he’d offered to watch a movie or go back out to admire the moon on the lake, it might’ve slowly led to something more. But his bluntness was too much. I wasn’t sure I could do what he said. I’d never had sex sitting on a bar. Was that possible? Did people always do that?
The look of disappointment on his face made me hurt inside. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to be scared. But he had no idea how basic my knowledge of sex was. I’d read plenty but that wasn’t doing. If I’d chosen to stay, he would’ve most likely been let down.
Ansel nodded and walked over to get my purse and keys. I watched him take his time, as if he wanted me to change my mind. I wanted to change my mind. I wished I could tell him that. When he handed both items to me, he looked into my eyes and said, “Don’t look so sad. I didn’t expect you to stay.” He softly smiled and held that smile. My knees wobbled then locked.
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I lowered my chin, which seemed like the wrong response “Thanks,” I replied, immediately wishing that I could take that back.
“You’ve already thanked me, Sugar,” Ansel reminded me, taking my elbow and walking me to the door. Without wasting a second he opened it for me. There was no more pausing or asking me to stay. My answer, for him, had been final. I wasn’t sure if I’d see him again.
With weightiness all over my frame, I left with my chin resting on my chest, forcing back the tears that I feared would soon fall from my eyes. “Goodbye,” I said.“Sleep well,” he responded. “There’s another day to live tomorrow.”
I nodded without saying anything else. As I got in my car, I glanced back at his house, he stood casually leaning against the post watching me. I wished more than anything else that I were carefree and experienced, more like Gemma than myself. The realization wasn’t even horrifying; it was simply the truth. I pulled away and, when I looked in my rearview mirror, he was still standing there. I would never forgive myself for this.
Driving home took longer than it should have. I beat myself up the entire way. Even if it would’ve only been a one-night-stand . . . maybe I needed one of those. Of course, I already knew that I’d care too much if I did that, so I shook my head against it as if to erase the thought. We’d only spent the day together and I was already feeling something for the man. That was because I was a recluse. That had to be it. No one got attached in a few hours. That was ridiculous.
If I ever told Gemma, she’d have a field day with this, so I never would. This one I would keep as a perfect memory regardless of how it turned out. Gemma knowing would ruin that. She’d make it into something cheap and I knew this wasn’t cheap. It couldn’t be. Ansel had been honest. Blunt. He didn’t want to make a mistake. He cared, maybe not about me, but about ruining the time we’d had before the awkwardness began. The more I thought about it, the more I began to think he’d been blunt to get me to leave. So it wouldn’t be remembered as just a little talk and sex.
I sat for a moment after parking outside my apartment, unready to go inside and begin to think about tomorrow and what I was going to do now that today was gone. As long as I sat in the car where I could pretend I still smelled him. He’d kissed me, touched me and made me feel things that I’d never felt before. I was alone, smiling in the car like an imbecile. If this was what the lonely were searching for, then I understood. I comprehended their search, because this felt . . . like nothing else. I had nothing to compare it to. It was as if I was trapped between two walls of bright light and there could never be any cold or even any thoughts about darkness. All . . . seemed . . . to be . . . light.
I was going to awaken regretting not staying with Ansel. I already did. I opened the car door, sighing with regret, before forcing myself to go inside. Time to deal with the real world. My moment of escape was over. Yet, I knew that I would relive it repeatedly before I went to sleep tonight. Ansel would become my favorite daydream.
He hadn’t asked for my phone number so when my phone dinged, signaling a text, there was no excitement to be felt. I unlocked my apartment door and put my purse on the table before taking my phone out and checking the new message.
Let me know you made it home safely. – Ansel
If my heart could leave my chest for a millisecond, simply over the excitement of reading his words, well, mine just did.