A low cloud of guilt was hanging over me when I got home from Toronto. Okay, technically I didn’t have sex, but what had happened between Jimmy and me had been even more intimate. How was I supposed to make a rational decision when I did such stupid things? And how was I going to face Phil?
Luckily, I had a whole day to recover before I saw him. I was at reception when Arthur Kim came storming up.
“Kelly—the very person I wanted to see.”
“Well, you always know where find me.” It wasn’t like the receptionist could wander around.
Arthur was one of my favourite people at work. He went everywhere since he coordinated promotions between the radio, television, and print areas. Frankly, I suspected his job was a cover to pick up gossip from every corner of C2C Sports. But I always enjoyed talking to him because he was hilarious and opinionated.
“Kelly, have you seen this?” He barged in front of me and pulled up a website on my computer. It had photos from the NHL Awards.
Shee-it. There was a photo of Jimmy and me together on the red carpet. We were holding hands. He was smiling, but I looked as nervous as I had felt. Although with all that makeup and the new dress, I appeared sophisticated and terrified.
“What about it?” I hedged.
“It looks exactly like you! And you were in Toronto then too.”
“I went for a family reunion,” I said, sticking to my cover story. Meeting some of Jimmy’s hockey family counted.
Michael Hauser was walking by and added his two cents. “That doesn’t look anything like Kelly. Well, maybe a little, but that chick is way prettier. And look at her tits.”
We all peered at the screen where my boobs, thanks to engineering help, were way more prominent than usual.
“That chick’s at least a D-cup. Kelly’s a B, tops,” Mike continued, not content with insulting only me. “You gay guys never notice the details that real men would. Anyway, what would an NHL superstar be doing with our receptionist?”
Now I was torn. Part of me wanted to protest that it was me in the photo—so there. But I didn’t want to deal with the fallout once word got out that I was dating James Frechette. Brian Ford, as well as every other producer in the place, would be leaning on me for interviews and inside scoops. And everyone else would be weighing in on my love life. They already had too many opinions on my relationship with Phil.
Mike drifted away, but Arthur was still darting looks between the computer screen and my face, like some C.S.I. scanning device.
“Lots of people have doppelgängers,” I commented. “Especially half-Asians.”
He sniffed. “Contraire to what that lunkhead may think, gay men are renowned for their observational skills. I do know that a little makeup can make some very significant changes, as well as a good push-up bra.” Then, thankfully, he left.
I saw Phil the next night. He had to work late—as usual—but we met at his place for dinner. Phil grilled salmon and asparagus on their balcony BBQ. I was grateful not to have to pay my share of yet another meal out.
“Everything smells delicious,” I told him. Phil was wearing a striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his nice forearms showing. However, what I really found attractive was the fact that he was cooking.
“How come you’re such a good cook?” I wondered.
“Survival. I like to eat well, and I don’t have tons of cash. How come you’re not? What did you eat at university?”
“Yogurt and cereal. And Montreal has lots of cheap restaurants.” Learning to cook had never been my priority, but now I felt guilty. “Can I help?”
“Sure, if you could make a salad, that would be great.”
I went to the kitchen where Dave was standing by the kitchen counter and eating some leftovers from a container, while looking in the fridge.
“Damn, PD didn’t buy me any frozen perogies when he went shopping. I’m complaining.”
“Excuse me? Phil works ten hour days and has to buy your groceries too?”
Dave’s eyes narrowed. “I work hard too. It’s just the way we split the household chores.”
“What do you do?” Dave didn’t strike me as the Happy Homemaker.
“I’m the organizational genius.”
“So—in other words—you tell everyone else what to do. Nice.” I pulled out some spinach and apples from the fridge and started on the salad.
“Hmmm, what are you guys having? It looks good.”
Phil walked in carrying a platter with the fish and veggies. “We’re having dinner for two. Only two.”
Dave bitched a little, but eventually left. We took our plates out on the balcony to enjoy the summer evening.
“Everything is delicious,” I told him.
Phil smiled at me, but I noticed how tired he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he wasn’t talking too much.
“We can skip the after-dinner walk if you want,” I told him. We had talked about going along False Creek and finding some gelato.
“Yeah, maybe. We could watch a movie on my laptop.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Did you want popcorn too?” he asked.
“I’m pretty full. Thank you though.” Suddenly, I realized that this was the ideal date that I had described to April. It wasn’t surprising that she was trying to help Phil.
Since Dave and Elliott were home, we went to Phil’s bedroom. He had minimal furniture. We sat on the bed, leaning against the black iron frame, with pillows behind and his laptop in front. For some reason, it wasn’t a sexy situation though.
Phil had been pretty well-behaved throughout the dating game. He was publicly affectionate, but never pushed me privately. I moved a little closer, and he put his arm around me. The movie was a foreign film about a man’s life after the tsunami in Thailand. Phil’s trip had inspired an interest in the countries he had visited.
However, being this close to Phil and in his bedroom was giving me ideas. He was very attractive and the warmth of his body through his shirt was bringing back some sweaty memories.
I was worried that what happened with Jimmy had softened the way I felt about him. So, what if I fooled around with Phil a little? That would make things right and equal. Not to mention being an awesome pleasure for me. Actually, I could keep making mistakes with one and then making it up to the other. This kind of logic underlined why sex was a problem for me.
I put my hand on Phil’s thigh. He jerked his head around, then smiled and leaned over to kiss me. He tilted his head and as his lips touched mine, I felt a little thrill coursing through my body. Phil’s kisses were bliss—his mouth warm and soft, and the pressure perfect.
I put one hand on the back of his neck and moved the other up his jeans towards his cock. I wasn’t really sure how far we would go, but everything was feeling great. We were kissing and touching when Phil stopped. He put his laptop on the bedside table.
“What’s going on here, Kel?”
“Duh, we’re making out.”
“Why are we making out?”
“Because it feels good, Philly. Now let’s stop talking.” I tried to kiss him again, but he put out a restraining hand.
“Does this mean that you’ll be doing the same thing with Frechette on the weekend?”
“No.” Shit. Why couldn’t guys just shut up and do what I wanted them to do?
“And that would be because…?”
I didn’t say a word. I didn’t have to. Phil was going to get this in five seconds.
5, 4, 3, 2—
“No, don’t tell me.” Phil was all snarky and sarcastic. “Let me guess—four days alone with him in Toronto, and you couldn’t control yourself. The asshole didn’t even win the Calder, but he sure got the consolation prize.”
“I didn’t have sex with him,” I said miserably.
Phil scowled at me. “You know, Kelly, this was all your idea. You wanted to ‘get to know each other’ and not have sex so you could make up your mind. It’s been over a month now, so what’s it going to be?”
I shook my head. “I actually haven’t spent that much time with either of you.” I had only seen Jimmy for three weekends, and Phil worked a lot of hours. I got to see him at hockey and maybe one or two other nights a week. It wasn’t really enough time to settle anything in my mind.
“I don’t know yet. I really like being with you, Phil.” Honestly, I was more confused than when I started.
“But maybe you wanted to do a little comparison shopping? To see how I stack up in the sack.” Phil’s voice was dangerously calm. In one smooth movement, he pulled me down onto the bed next to him.
He kissed me, and this time his mouth was hot, wet, and passionate. He moved down and kissed this special spot at the base of my neck that made me moan aloud. He raised himself up and ran an expert hand down the side of me—not even touching any erogenous zones—and lit me up like a neon sign.
“Oh God.” I tried to pull him onto me, but he shook his head.
“There’s no way you’ve forgotten how hot things can be between us. I know a lot more than I did back in high school, and I can’t wait to show you. But I’m playing by your rules, so I’m not making love to you again—until it’s for keeps.”
Then he abruptly let me go and got off the bed. He put on his shoes and looked down at me—still lying on the bed and breathing hard.
“Let’s go. I’m taking you home now.” He turned and left the room.
I got straightened out and ran after him. “Phil, wait.”
We were in the parking garage before I finally grabbed his arm. “I’m really sorry. I know I shouldn’t have—”
Phil interrupted me. “You know what? I prefer those ground rules where we don’t waste one second talking about the asshole. All I have to say is that if you make the wrong decision—it’s your own fault. You need to have a little self-control and not let your body rule your mind.”
I should have been angry, but I knew he was exactly right.