I’m tempted to cancel my date with Jake. It doesn’t feel right anymore after last weekend with Hank, but I push forward because that’s the plan, dammit. Besides, I hate canceling on people unless I have a good reason. If I made something up, I’d stammer through the lie.
Jake picks me up around noon with a picnic basket in tow and drives to the airfield where he houses his plane. I’m shocked to find out he owns a small plane and flies, by himself, to various places. Like Brinn.
I relax and let the good time happen. We fly across the state to Cedar Key, where we devour our picnic lunch and walk the small, eclectic tourist town. It’s a pleasant day, an enjoyable date with an easy vibe. As we fly home, he suggests getting takeout and watching a movie. I agree without a second’s hesitation. If Jake’s a player, he’s very smooth. He hasn’t even touched me today. I guess I’m expecting some old cliché in his conversation or premature claims of undying love, even someone like pilot Ted and his creepy innuendos. Jake is different. He’s funny, proper, and attentive.
We pick up beer, Chinese food, and I make popcorn before we settle in to a scary movie. My personal favorites are the gory flicks. I like to scare people afterward, especially Sarah Grace, who is super-susceptible to after-movie mind games.
Jake props his feet up on my coffee table as he pulls me close. I fidget, trying to get comfortable and relax but the ease I experienced earlier is gone and there’s something about Jake that makes me uncertain. Maybe it’s because we barely know each other and this is the awkwardness that comes with the early stages of dating.
I tuck my feet up under me so I’m not sitting snuggled in his arm. I like the way he smells, a bit like the sun and a whole lot like sin, sort of a musky, coconut, manly smell. It’s so different from Hank who smells like the out of doors, kind of like evergreens, cedar, and with a hint of citrus. I mentally berate myself as I try not to think about Hank but move back a tad anyway.
“Josie is getting married soon, right?” He scoops up a handful of popcorn.
Our legs are touching and he keeps brushing his hand against mine as he reaches for more popcorn.
“Yeah, in a few weeks. You used to work together, right?” I probe for a reason for his interest in Josie.
“Barely. She was leaving as I was just coming on. We maybe overlapped a few weeks.
I laugh at a campy, supposed to be scary, part in the movie. Seriously, who runs toward the dark, scary area and away from the light? Even bugs fly toward the light. It’s instinctive, except, apparently, in dumb girls.
I look at Jake and laugh. “These movies are the best.”
“May I kiss you?” He catches me unaware and lowers his lips to mine. It isn’t the best kiss of my life, rockets don’t go off, my heart doesn’t race, and the earth stays on its path. It’s pleasant enough. He’s not one of those guys who kisses like a lizard, flicking his tongue in and out. But the strongest reaction I muster is “eh.” He picks up speed, moving to my neck, right below my ear. This is my sweet spot, yet something about the way he teases it is annoying.
A nervous giggle escapes, and I press my lips together hoping to stop any more from getting out.
“Do you like it when I do this?” He tugs on my earlobe.
“Mmm.” I stifle another giggle and close my eyes.
“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” He nips my neck.
My eyes pop open. Uh-oh. I don’t do dirty talk. I close my eyes again and choose to ignore it, hoping to distract him by running my hands over his back.
Jake lowers me flat onto the couch and stretches out on top of me. He pulls my top from my shorts and makes quick work of the buttons, laying my shirt open.
He goes for my breast and asks, “Do you feel dirty, Paisley? Do you need me to clean you up?” He runs his tongue up my belly, starting at my navel, traveling to my neck. Little goose bumps cover me and not in excitement.
I must have tensed up because Jake stops to look at me.
“Are you OK?”
“Uhh, yeah.” I go for broke. “I’m inexperienced with the dirty-talk stuff and uh...a bit nervous. Could we ease our way into this?”
I smile and hope I don’t look terrified. I’m baffled how he can go from asking for permission for a kiss to dirty talk.
He pauses, his dark head bent in front of me, and shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”
Nobody moves. The way he rests against me, pushing his weight into me, reminds me of Trevor and I’m taken aback by the sudden sense of a power struggle. It’s stupid but I don’t want to be perceived as prudish. Inexperienced but willing is one thing. Priggish is another. Frigid is what Trevor used to say and I sometimes wonder if he was right. Because I want to push Jake off me. Am I not being open-minded enough? Yet, my hands tremble and my knees twitch and not from the uncertainty that anticipation brings. This is rooted deeper in doubt and discomfort.
I don’t want to kiss him anymore. Honestly, I want to call it a night but he’s staring at my boobs as if he’s expecting them to do something and that makes me apprehensive. Jake is suddenly very unpredictable. How will he react if I push him off? Ask him to leave? I haven’t felt this vulnerable since Trevor.
“Are you OK?” I ask.
He doesn’t immediately answer. “I’m used to being with more experienced women. It’s refreshing to be with someone as innocent as you. You may lack imagination, but I can teach you how to please me.”
He smiles and unsnaps my bra, the whole time staring into my eyes. He moves his mouth to the side of my right boob and begins to suck it, still not breaking eye contact.
I don’t know what to do. I’m far past nervous and my mind races, muddling my thoughts. I don’t consider myself naive by any stretch of the imagination. I was married, for fuck’s sake. Isn’t there a purple plastic, albeit unused, penis in my dresser drawer? And he can teach me?
I hate myself for lacking the instant courage I need to force him off me. I close my eyes, trying to bank my fear and draw on my anger. His sucking begins to get uncomfortable. I arch toward him, hoping to ease the contact between his mouth and my breast.
“Jake.” I squirm as panic fills me. Jake digs his hands into my hips, pushes me back down, and he grinds himself against me. I try to steady my heart, control my trembling. My mind races, desperate to remember some sort of self-defense move Josie taught me that I could use against him.
He breaks free. I peek through my lids and see him coming in to kiss me. Any ounce of harlot in me has packed up and moved on, replaced by the Paisley I thought I left behind in my divorce. I’m seconds from a full-blown panic attack when his cell phone rings.
“Sorry, babe, I have to get this.” He sits up and reaches for his phone. I grasp my shirt and tug the two sides together, avoiding the glaring red mark on the swell of my breast. I button my shirt, not caring if the buttons line up or that my bra isn’t fastened. I roll off the couch and sidestep around him.
He reaches out and catches my legs, pulling me back to stand in front of him. I try not to shake and steady my breathing. My heart is pounding in my ears. The burning of his hands on my thigh holds my attention, making it impossible to focus on his conversation. My mind screams, asking me where’s my self-respect? But I have no answer, I’m a pliable shell of a person.
Jake disconnects the call and yanks me toward him. He buries his face in my stomach, nips at my flesh, looks up, and says, “I have to head out, girl. I’m sorry we were interrupted.”
I’m not.
I shrug as if there isn’t anything we can do about these things. He pushes me away, gets up, and gathers his keys, phone, and shoes.
“Can I take the beer?”
“Sure.” Take whatever you want. Just leave.
“I have to go to Ft. Lauderdale for at least a week. I’d love to see you when I get back.”
A lock of brown hair flops over his eyes, and he looks nothing like the guy I spent a fun day with, the one who asked for permission and seemed to take things slowly. He looks like the player Josie warned me about and worse.
“Um, it’s going to be hectic soon. I’ve Josie’s wedding and... I’m in the wedding, um, so I may be out of town.” My goal is to avoid a confrontation that could get ugly quick. Instinct tells me I’m no match for him.
“Oh yeah? Let me know what day and time and I’ll make sure I’m free to escort you.”
Did he just invite himself? It doesn’t matter. Just leave! I want to scream it at him. Leave already!
“We’ll talk about it when you get back,” I say. I’m such an idiot. I know I should say no, that I already have a date, or make up some other reason. The idea of spending the weekend out of town with Jake has absolutely no appeal. Shoot, spending any time alone with Jake has no further appeal. But I’m hoping once he’s gone I’ll have the advantage of distance to help me avoid the problem.
He gives me a kiss and leaves, oblivious to my unease. I bolt my door and go around checking the windows. I want to call Josie, but am too ashamed. Gigi? I can’t bring myself to pick up the phone, much less dial.
I start a hot shower and sit on the tub floor, letting the water wash over me until my skin is shriveled. I ignore the welt on my chest, even though common sense tells me I should put a cold pack on it. But, I can’t face it. I can’t face myself and my inactions.
When I was married to Trevor I used to stand up for myself, try to set limits but he always wore me down. Even a simple disagreement was exhausting. Tonight, I saw the same mannerisms in Jake, the desire to manage me. I’d thought I’d moved on from those days and that person I use to be and it’s a devastating crush to my soul to know that I haven’t entirely done so. I cover the welt with a baggy T-shirt and leggings, and climb in bed, where I channel surf for several hours until sheer exhaustion forces my eyes closed.