Outside the bar, I feel dizzy. And it has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the man walking by my side.
“Want to take the short or long way home?” Richard asks. “Long one has a view.”
“Long way it is, I could use some fresh air.”
Richard takes my hand and leads the way. The simple gesture makes me ridiculously giddy, especially when his thumb brushes against my palm making me shiver with the uncontrollable desire to feel those hands all over me.
Halfway between the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges, we stop and lean against the railing to admire the view. Breathtaking.
A pang of jealousy stabs me in the chest. “Is this where you take all your girls?”
Oh, why did I open my stupid mouth? Blair Walker, shut up and don’t ruin the moment.
“Actually, no. I usually come here alone.”
“Do you?”
“I enjoy the view.”
“Yep.” I focus on the glittering lights reflected on the water. “Manhattan is irresistible when she’s wearing lights.”
“I know someone else who’s irresistible.” Suddenly Richard’s voice is behind me, his lips brushing my ear.
I turn to look at him and find myself imprisoned between the railing and his strong chest. The scent of his aftershave is intoxicating, and my hands move of their own accord up the crisp cotton of his shirt. After tracing his thumb around my earlobe with one hand, he moves the other under my chin and tilts my head up. Then we’re kissing again, his mouth on mine, gently parting my lips. My hands become frantic, my entire body prickling with anticipation.
I pull away and say, “I think we should go home.”
Richard leaves a trail of soft kisses down my neck. “Sorry for making us take the long road.” He grabs my hand, and we speed-walk through Brooklyn, leaving Manhattan and her lights behind.
For the entire elevator ride to his loft, we make out like a pair of teenagers: bodies wrapped together, oblivious to anything else in the world. Completely lost in each other.
When the doors ping open, we tumble out and laugh our way to Richard’s door. He gets the keys out of his pocket and lets us in.
“Welcome back,” Richard whispers.
“Why are we whispering?” I ask in an equally low voice.
“Chevron might be asleep.”
“Oh, right. Where is she?”
I tiptoe into the living room to find Chevron sprawled on the couch—belly up, legs in the air. I brace my hands on the backrest, staring at her, but soon get distracted by Richard hugging me from behind and kissing my neck. Shivers spread down my shoulders and along my spine, making my toes curl. I turn around and press my lips onto Richard’s.
My body is taking over in a way I’ve never experienced. This man has melted my brain. My heart is beating so fast I’m afraid I might pass out. But what if this is a huge mistake? Richard is still my boss.
“Are you sure you want this?” I breathe, my ribcage bobbing up and down convulsively.
“Walker”—his teeth find my earlobe—“we reached the point of no return a while ago.”
Yeah, agreed.
Richard bends slightly and swings an arm behind my knees, lifting me up and carrying me to the bedroom.
There, on his bed, we make love. I’m confident we’re not just having sex. Yes, it’s sensual, and heated… but if he does not say so in words, the way Richard looks at me tells me everything. I’ve never made love keeping my eyes open, but with Richard, it seems impossible to close them.
***
Joy. Indecent bliss. Never have I ever felt so good in my life. I roll over the bed, only to crash-land on hard muscle.
I blink. “Mmm, I remember this room…”
Richard brushes a strand of hair off my face. “Hope this time you remember why you’re here.”
Oh, I so do. Flashes of last night make me blush.
“I see that you do.” Richard grabs my hand and kisses the tips of my fingers.
“I might need a little reminder.”
“Careful what you wish for…”
I giggle as Richard throws the blankets away and his lips start their magic again…
In a fog of passion and burning emotions, the rest of the day is spent in bed. We only leave to take Chevron for a very short walk. I can’t stop smiling and feeling all dreamy and happy and, well… sated.
Saturday night, we attempt to leave Richard’s apartment to get some dinner. But it’s a stupid mistake. We get seated and we order like two normal people would. But then we start this flirtatious eye game, which evolves in us casually touching each other’s arms or legs, until we’re kissing—ahem, making out in the restaurant like two teenagers. By the time the food arrives, Richard asks for everything to be boxed. He pays the bill and we’re back at his house and in bed less than an hour after we left.
***
Sunday evening is when the bubble of happiness bursts. The pin comes in the form of an ominous suggestion from Richard. It happens in the late afternoon while we’re drinking tea on the couch, my bare legs in his lap and Chevron lying quietly on the living room rug.
I’m admiring Richard’s naked chest—he’s wearing only sweatpants—when my fit watch sends me a pulsing notification I’ve been lying down for too long. A pretty common occurrence in the past two days. Out of habit, I check the time. Already so late. I wish I could stay in Richard’s apartment wearing only one of his T-shirts forever. But I can’t. I drop my empty mug on the coffee table and sigh. “Chevron,” I say, patting her head. “Time to go.”
“Already?” Richard protests. “It’s only five!”
“Yeah, but by the time we get to Manhattan it’ll be late, and tomorrow is going to be busy. If you haven’t noticed, we made quite a splash Friday.”
“Stay longer, I can give you a ride…”
As tempting as the offer is…
“We’ve been in bed for two days,” I say, blushing. “I could use the walk. And you’ll see us both tomorrow morning at the office, anyway.”
“Speaking of the office.” Richard’s expression switches from a relaxed smile to a slight frown. “It’d be better if we kept this quiet, at least for now.”
A chill runs down my spine. Sure, I’d had the same thought. Not wanting to have everyone else at work involved in my private life and gossiping seems like a good idea on the surface. But hearing Richard voice the same concern sets off a million alarm bells in my head. Why does he want to keep it quiet? To protect our privacy? To give us time to figure out our feelings before anyone else gets involved? Or would keeping the relationship hidden only make it easier to break off?
I want to reply that it’s okay. Tell him I understand. I want to, but find I can’t. After almost forty-eight hours spent naked, I’m less lost in a whirlwind of lust and able to pause long enough to question what’s happening.
“Why keep it quiet?” I ask.
“It’d be awkward if the others knew about us.”
Us. What does that even mean? I know I’m supposed to play cool, not make demands after such a short time. To let things evolve on their own so as not to scare him away. It’s acknowledged dating wisdom. Yet, there’s a new fire burning within me that simply won’t let me play by the rules.
I fold my legs and sit straighter. “For them, or for you?”
Clinginess taints my voice and I hate myself for it.
“For everyone, including you.”
“Come on, Richard. We don’t work in that kind of place. Everyone would just be happy for us.”
The afterglow vaporizes from his face, replaced by a tense grimace. “Maybe, but what if I’m not ready to share my private life with all my employees?”
“Indira seems to always know who you’re dating.”
“Yes, but this is different.”
“I would certainly hope so.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That if you’re only looking for another two-week relationship, I’m not interested.”
“So what are you interested in?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”
“Calm down. Why are you getting so worked up?”
The answer comes from my twisting guts before I can even form a rational thought. And since I’ve no gut-to-mouth filters, I yell, “Because I’m in love with you!”
The silence that follows this impromptu declaration is so tense that even Chevron lifts her head to check on us. Richard is staring at me with that deer-in-the-headlights expression. Well, “terrorized to death” wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for. Tears prick my eyes and I have to blink fast to hold them back. Still, Richard isn’t speaking.
“Don’t worry,” I say, getting up. “You don’t have to say it back.”
Coward, I add in my head. I know you feel the same.
I can’t stand to look at his terrified expression for a second longer, so I dart for the bedroom. I manage to throw on the essentials before Richard comes in. Admittedly, having this argument wearing only a lacy bra and panties is hardly any better.
“What do you want from me?” he asks.
“Guess.”
“What, love?” He scoffs. “A wedding proposal? You want the house with the white fence, the three kids, and a dog in the yard?”
“I already have a dog!” I scream. “And what’s wrong with wanting any of that? What if my dream is to get married and have a family?”
“Well, that’s not my dream.”
“Isn’t it? Or are you too afraid to admit it is, even to yourself, because your dream already got shattered once.”
“This has nothing to do with that… don’t throw my past in my face as an excuse for me not agreeing with your cloud nine attitude.”
“Are you sure? Seems to me you hide a lot behind that past.”
“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No, I do. You’re the clueless one.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you I’m in love with you and you lost the ability to speak.”
Richard stands there, gaping. Again, not a word.
I grab my pants and slide them on. “There you go again.”
“Blair.” He takes a few steps toward me and places one hand on each of my shoulders. “You’re overreacting.”
“No, Richard.” I shove his hands away and grab my blouse. “You’re underreacting!”
“Underreacting? What does that even mean?”
Finally dressed, I do a frantic scan of the room to locate all my scattered possessions. I toss everything in the duffel bag and put on my gym shoes. Ready to leave, I turn toward him. “It means that I just told you ‘I love you’ and I deserve to hear more back than a never ending silence.”
Again, silence is all he gives me.
I push past him and storm out of the bedroom. In the living room, I hook Chevron to her leash. Richard hasn’t followed me. Oh, no, he prefers to stay hidden. Easier that way. Bastard. Asshole. Coward. Tears blur my vision at last. I wait a few more seconds for him to come out. He doesn’t. With my heart shattering, I dash out of the apartment, banging the door behind me as hard as I can.
For the entire walk home, I keep looking over my shoulder hoping to see a silver car following us. Every time a car passes us, my heart jolts in my chest. But it’s never Richard. I make my way toward Manhattan, sobbing uncontrollably. So much so that a few people stop me to ask if I need help. I turn away the kind strangers, explaining it’s only a problem of the heart. Only. Why is it that I’m more heartbroken after a two-night stand than I was over a three-year relationship? Is this what love does to you? If that’s it, I hope I can fall out of it as quickly as I fell in.