Текст книги "Arsen: a broken love story"

Автор книги: Mia Asher

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

On our drive back to the city, my cheeks are still tingling from where his lips touched my skin. I was definitely not expecting him to ignore my handshake and plant two of the most electrifying kisses I’d ever received on each side of my face. I felt my cheeks flush as I clumsily took two steps back, extending my hand for a now useless handshake. He must have seen how affected I was by the close contact, because out came that stupid lazy smile of his that seemed to be doing stuff to my lady parts, my very married lady parts, as he took my hand in his own very large one.

Shaking hands, I noticed the unique and exotic color of his eyes. They were a pure aqua blue. Beautiful. I also noticed how they slowly perused my body, sending a shiver so strong running through my spine it made me tremble. He seemed to like what he saw because as his eyes covered more areas of my body, his smile grew wider. When his eyes finally landed on mine, and he realized that I had been watching him the entire time, he winked at me.

He smiled again. “Nice meeting you, Cathy.”

That smile should be illegal.

“I’m Arsen,” he said, still shaking hands.

“Arson?” I repeated. “Like, Fire-raising Arson?”

“No, Arsen with an E instead of an O, but very close,” he said, his eyes shining bright.

It’s funny that his name reminded me of fire because he certainly looked like someone who could burn you to the ground. With just one look, he made me feel as if my body was burning scarlet. The clearing of a throat breaks me away from my trance. “Miss Stanwood...Cathy…”

Shit, I hope I haven’t missed much of the conversation. Turning towards his voice, I see Arsen sitting on the leather seat with his legs spread apart. As he sips his water, his gaze lingers on my mouth for a moment longer than necessary.

“Cathy, my mother was wondering whether you happen to know if Amy has seen to the buying of that property in Purchase or not?”

“Yes, we closed two weeks ago. I’ve met and interviewed a couple of interior designers who—”

I’m cut off by Victoria Radcliff. Yes, Mrs. Stepford wife has a name.

“Oh, There’s no need for an interior designer. I only use Charles.” When she turns to look at her son, I am struck by how much they look alike. All American blonde perfection.

My phone rings, breaking my perusal of perfection.

“I’m sorry. I should probably take this phone call. It must be Amy making sure you arrived safely.”

Victoria shrugs her shoulders and continues talking to her son as if I don’t exist. Turning my body to the side so that I can give them and myself some privacy, I take the call.

“Cathy Stanwood.”

“Babe, it’s me. I know you’re working, but I just got called into the office…emergency meeting. I’ll probably be working all night long, so I don’t think I’ll be back until you’re in bed and already asleep.”

I can feel eyes on me. Suspecting Victoria is watching me because I’m interrupting her conversation with her son, I lower my voice.

“Okay…”

Ben must sense that I shouldn’t be on the phone because he chuckles. “I’m probably getting you in trouble with this call. Tell them to go to hell. I’m talking to my woman.”

“Ben…”

“Alright, babe. I just wanted to wish you a good night. And to let you know not to wait up for me. I love you.”

He waits on the line for a second longer, probably expecting me to tell him that I love him back, but I can’t. I don’t know why. Sighing into the speaker I only say, “Night.”

Wait. That’s not fair.

I’m about to say something more meaningful to Ben when I hear him release a deep breath and end the call.

Shit. Fuck. Damn it. Why do I always behave like such a bitch to him when he’s just trying to be sweet?

Frustrated with myself, I put my phone away and lift my eyes, expecting Victoria to be shooting daggers at me. She’s not, though. She’s looking out the window. Instead, my eyes connect with aqua ones.

It has been Arsen watching me all this time.

Arsen is making me very uncomfortable. He keeps watching my every move, and it’s unnerving. I don’t know why. He is much younger than I am, and I usually don’t cower in front of men, not even when they are as drop dead gorgeous as the man sitting next to me.

I’m used to some of them watching me and flirting with me, but I’m never made uneasy by just a simple stare.

Not like this.

Not ever.

And, I never squirm in my seat, not even when Ben is trying to be funny and kinky at the same time. But this guy is seriously getting to me. The intensity in his gaze feels as if it’s burning a hole through me.

I break our staring contest and reach for my glass of Pinot Noir. For a moment, I get lost in the taste of the wine, tasting its fruity flavors mixed in with warm spice and earthy undertones. Letting the delicious wine roll around in my mouth, seeping into the taste buds of my tongue, I avoid looking at the man sitting to my left and the woman sitting right across the table from me. Instead, I let my eyes wander around the restaurant that Arsen picked instead of going to the Ritz. Homme. It’s the “it” restaurant in New York City at the moment. Zagat, the New York Times, and The New Yorker all swear by it. I’m surprised they let us in without a reservation because I’ve heard that the wait list is currently one month in advance.

I guess I shouldn’t be though. Arsen seems to know a lot of the people here tonight, and so does Mrs. Radcliff. Looking around, I take in the very upscale and expensive décor. It’s all white and glass. The light fixtures are a mix between classic designs of sparkly clear crystal and large modern Swedish-looking orbs of white, opaque bulbs. Aesthetically it is beautiful and very zen. On the other hand, the music is loud and very Ibiza. The juxtaposition of the techno blasting in your ears while you’re trying to eat a hundred-dollar duck is pretty funny if you think about it.

But it works.

Smiling at the very cute waiter when he comes over to fill my almost empty glass, I don’t see Arsen move closer to me until I feel the whisper of his hot breath against my ear.

“Why don’t you smile like that at me?”

I feel his pinky finger touching the outside of my thigh as his hand supports his reclining body on the edge of my chair. His nearness is crowding me. The insignificant contact of our bodies makes me want to fidget in my seat, and his words make me want to get up and flee away from him and what they just made me feel.

Excitement.

I don’t know what to do or say, so I turn to look at Mrs. Radcliff to see if she’s watching us. But she’s not. With her head lowered, I can see that she’s texting someone. I try to move away from Arsen and his mouth when his hand is suddenly on my knee. His large hand manages to cover my entire knee and then some. “Why are you afraid of me? I don’t bite unless you want me to. And if you do…”

I clear my throat and gently but firmly remove his hand from my knee. I don’t know this guy, and he should not be touching me like this at all.

Meanwhile, ignoring the part of me, of my body, that enjoyed his touch.

Trying to think of Ben, I look at Arsen, about to say something cutting to put him in his place, but I stop short. Instead, I watch as he brings the pinky finger that was touching my leg not a minute ago to his mouth and slowly lets his tongue trace it. Somehow, I get the impression that he can taste me. My throat dry, I can’t deny how erotic I find it.

Arsen watches me flush and squirm in my seat and cockily smiles at me. Then he reclines back in his seat, grabbing his glass of wine and draining the contents in one big gulp. I know I need to say something, but I can’t. So many warring thoughts are running through my head; fear, dislike, shock, but the voice that is the loudest is lust.

His cockiness is doing things to my body. The way he is watching me, the way he is smiling at me, and the little touch of his finger is making me wet. I am shocked to discover that I want my tongue to be the one tracing his finger. I want to open my legs, take his head, and guide his tongue inside of me so he can drink me, swallow me just as if I were that glass of wine. I want his tongue to taste me.

Alarmed with the direction of my thoughts, I find my voice to shut him and my own imagination down.

“I…Excuse me—”

I don’t finish my sentence because Arsen lifts his index finger to his mouth signaling me not to say anything more.

Is he kidding me? I can’t.

Putting my napkin down, I push my chair back and excuse myself, saying that I need to use the ladies room. I don’t bother looking at him or at Victoria.

I need to get away.

Walking out of the bathroom, calm but still lost in thought, I don’t see Arsen approaching me until he’s standing in front of me.

“Hey.” There’s a teasing tone in his voice.

“Hi,” I say dryly. I need to get back to the table and get this night over with; he’s making me very uncomfortable. Actually, the thoughts he’s invoking in me are making me uncomfortable.

“Did I say something to bother you back at the table?”

“Um…No. Not at all…” I stutter nervously.

“Really?” He steps closer to me and lifts a hand, letting his fingers touch my shoulder and caress it slowly. I want to take a step back, but I can’t move. I’m frozen under his spell. “Because when I did this, it looked like it bothered you a lot.”

“Please stop doing that…” I shake my shoulder off.

“Why? How about we ditch my mom and have some fun?” he asks, reclining his shoulder against the wall and taking in my body.

“No. I can’t.” I feel myself blush under his scrutiny.

“Why not? I’m known to be a good fucking time.”

“B-because...because I’m—”

Doesn’t he know I’m married?

“I like you. There’s something about the stiffness in your demeanor that makes me want to see if you have a wild side.”

He’s telling me all these things while he stands there looking cool and composed. Confident. Cocky.

“No. You didn’t let me finish before. I can’t. I’m married and not interested. Now can you please move to the side so I can get back to your mother?”

He seems shocked when I tell him that I’m married. Good. Whatever this is between us needs to be nipped in the bud.

“You’re married? You’re not wearing a wedding band,” he says, pointing at my finger.

“Well, I forgot to put them on,” I say, rubbing my hands together.

“I can still show you a good time, you know. Even better since it can be a one-time thing.” He moves away from the wall, and leans down to whisper in my ear. “It can be our little secret.”

I push him away. “What’s with you? I don’t even know you. Do you always insinuate yourself to women like this and it works?”

“Yes. Always.” “Well, it won’t work with me. I’m married and not interested. End of story. Now please, let me go back.”

Angry and offended, I turn around and walk away from him. I can’t believe that man. I just met him, but he’s saying these disgusting things to me.

Making my way to the table, I sit down next to Victoria and proceed to pretend that what just happened outside the bathroom between her son and me didn’t actually occur. That those words were never exchanged.

Even if for a small fraction of a moment, maybe I did consider them.

I pretend that I wasn’t tempted at all.

By the time Arsen comes back, he doesn’t ignore me like I thought he would. He continues to be flirtatious, but now that kilowatt smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, they look cold and empty.

When I get home, I feel dirty and guilty. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t feel any of those things. It’s not like I asked Arsen to follow me to the bathroom or to say all those things to me. It’s not like I actually flirted with him.

I didn’t. At all.

But the guilt is there.

The conflicting emotions stampeding through me are leaving such chaotic confusion in its wake that I feel as if my conscience is the resulting aftermath.

And maybe some small part of me wanted to say yes.

“What’s with you?” My dad asks me as we sit down to have dinner.

“What do you mean?” I reach for my glass of water and notice that my hand is slightly shaking.

“Cathy, since you got back from school you haven’t been able to stop smiling.” He studies my face. “Did you meet someone?”

“Maybe…” I say before taking a mouthful of penne.

“I thought so. You have one of the biggest grins I’ve seen in a very long time. You should smile more, my darling. It makes me very happy.”

I rarely smile. Not since my mom left. We haven’t heard from her in over eight years, and I doubt we ever will, so smiles are scarce in my life. Only good grades, my dad, and a good book will bring them out.

“Don’t worry, Daddy. And yes, I met someone today. I...I think it was the most amazing experience ever.”

“Cathy…”

“No, nothing has happened yet, so don’t panic. We just met in the rain.”

“What do you mean in the rain?”

“Daddy, forget about it. Just know that I met one of the most beautiful guys I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Darling, I think you say that about every good looking guy you see.”

“Yes, maybe…but he truly is, Daddy.”

He’s quiet for a minute while we stare at each other.

“Just be careful. I’ve never seen you this excited over a boy. Not even when you dated those two assholes.”

“Dad…”

“I’ll drop it, but if he wants to take you out, he better be ready to meet me.”

“Dad!” I exclaim. Sometimes my dad can get quite carried away, but he’s right. I have to be cautious. The last time I gave my heart away, it was broken badly.

My two ex-boyfriends, the only two boys I’ve ever loved and slept with, are long gone, but I still think about them. Jack had medium brown hair, wore glasses, and was lanky. He wasn’t unattractive, yet he wasn’t handsome. He was just like me—passable. My second boyfriend, Matt, was really good looking, so much so that I always wondered why he was with me. Our relationship was conventional, his love for me ordinary. I, on the other hand, loved him so much, wanted him so much. When he broke up with me because I wasn’t doing it for him anymore, it broke me. He broke me. I haven’t really seen anyone since high school ended and college began. I need to maintain my GPA and not jeopardize my scholarship.

When dinner is over, I run upstairs to get some work done before my dad can question me further. I quietly close my bedroom door behind me, then stand in front of my Ikea floor length mirror.

I notice what my dad is talking about. My cheeks look so rosy, and the smile on my face is so big that you can see how deep my dimples go. The girl staring back at me looks as if she has swallowed a big fat happy pill and is high on happiness

Covering my mouth, I silently scream into my hands, breaking into a little dance that might include some Mr. Roboto dance moves. Cheesy, I know, but I mean, come on! I’m so giddy and full of butterflies that I’m surprised my body is still here and not flying away along with them. I feel so light and alive.

The wait for Friday to come isn’t nail biting after all. Ben calls me every time he says he will; his texts are the first ones to greet my eyes when I wake up, and his voice is the last sound I hear before going to bed.

The evening before our Friday night date, we talk on the phone for two hours. I’m falling asleep, and so is he, so I tell him we should hang up. He laughs. “I don’t want to hang up. How about we just fall asleep listening to each other’s voice? It could be kind of hot if you wanted to…”

I laugh at his silly joke while I imagine him wiggling his eyebrows in a cute but perverted way. “No freaking way. Nu uh, not happening, buddy. Get your mind out of the gutter. I am not having phone sex with you. I barely know you…”

Hearing a full-blown laugh, I smile into the receiver. When Ben speaks next, his voice has grown deeper, but I somehow know he’s still smiling.

“Well, casual phone sex has been known to help attain a better night sleep…deeper if you know what I mean…” He teases me.

I laugh. “Really?”

“Yes. Best-Method-Ever. I am even offering myself as a test dummy.” Laughing, I wish him a good night and end the call. If I know myself well, and I think I do, I’m pretty sure I’m already falling for someone I barely know.

But it is so easy.

I’m so nervous. I haven’t eaten anything all day.

Tonight is a perfect early September evening. Warm, but with a cool breeze whispering on your skin. Not knowing where Ben is taking me, I pick a cute, light pink, short, baby-doll dress with lace applications on the sleeves and neckline. It’s girly and pretty, but a bit sexy, too, paired with tanned wedges that make my legs appear longer. Really, dressing like this is way out of my comfort zone, but I want to look as pretty as possible for Ben. I really want him to think I look good tonight.

When I stare at myself in the mirror, I’m happy to notice that I look my best. The champagne eye shadow brings out the color of my eyes, and the little bronzer I applied to my face lends a sun kissed glow to my features. And, yes, my hair decided to help me out tonight because it doesn’t look frizzy. Smiling at my reflection, I apply some light pink gloss on my lips and decide this is as good as it is going to get.

I’m looking for a pair of earrings when I hear a knock on the front door. Shit.

My dad is going to get the door.

Oh, my. This should be interesting.

Not bothering to put the earrings on, I throw them in my bag and run towards the stairs. I need to get down there before my dad starts embarrassing me. When I get to the foot of the stairs, I freeze on the spot. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

Ben is standing inside my house holding the largest bouquet of…

Wait…are those cupcakes? Yes, I think so.

Ben approaches me, leaving my dad standing there with a “Who the hell does this guy think he is?” expression written all over his face.

The sweetest smile touches the lips of the most handsome guy I have ever seen in my whole life, and it’s for me—ME!

I thought I remembered what he looked like, but I’m so wrong. His maple brown eyes shine so radiantly that they appear to be crystalized syrup, and there’s a hint of a blush blooming on his strong cheekbones.

Even with my wedges on, he still towers over me, and the way he’s looking at me with such tenderness in his expression makes me want to faint. My knees feel all wobbly.

Ben just stands there, staring at me for a second...or forever. Who’s keeping track of the time, anyway? When he finally speaks, his words are softly said and take my breath away.

“I wanted to say something witty and funny when I finally saw you again, but my brain seems to be fried.” He closes his eyes and groans. “So, you look beautiful.”

Blushing all kinds of red, I hear my dad clearing his throat, trying to remind us that he’s still in the room. After he hands me the very heavy bouquet of cupcakes, I ask him why he brought me so many of them. There is no way I could eat them all.

Ben blushes again. “The other night when we were talking about favorite foods, you said you could have a cupcake every day of the week. I figured that if I brought enough to last you a week, you’d want to see me again next week when you ran out. If anything, just so I could bring you more.”

Oh, my God. Now the two of us are blushing.

“Um, thank you.” Is this guy for real?

Leaving my dad with Ben in the foyer, I excuse myself and head to the kitchen to deposit the cupcakes on the counter. When I come back, Ben and my dad are facing each other. Dad has his arms crossed over his chest with an angry look on his face, and Ben’s hands are in his front pockets as he rocks on his feet. He looks uncomfortable. I want to laugh because Ben is probably four inches taller than my dad and a lot bigger too, but he actually seems nervous. It’s quite cute to watch.

“She’s only eighteen, so you better not take her to a bar. I remember when I was your age. I know where you guys hang out and what you like to do with pretty girls like mine, so you better watch it, son. If she comes home smelling like alcohol, or if her clothes are out of place, I won’t be a happy camper.”

Just kill me now. Seriously, Dad? I half expect Ben to jet and bail on me.

“No, sir. I won’t let her hands touch anything with alcohol.”

“How old are you, son?” my dad asks, studying him.

Flushing, but never breaking eye contact with my dad, Ben answers, “I’m twenty-two. I’m also in my first year at Columbia Law, Sir.”

“Humph. A future lawyer. What kind of law are you interested in pursuing?”

Okay, this is bordering on harassment. I need to step in before my dad scares Ben out of the house, leaving me dateless...and sex-less. You want to get to at least third base tonight with that hot stud! Slutty Cathy reminds me.

I clear my throat, breaking my dad’s interrogation. “Hi. Sorry. I’m ready, Ben. Are you all set?”

Ben looks at my dad, then at me, smiling. “Yep. Ready whenever you are.”

Grinning, I give my dad a kiss and tell him not to worry about tonight. Ben helps me put on my denim jacket, but when I think he’s going to follow me to the door, he steps away from my side and walks back towards my dad. He stretches his hand for a handshake. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll take very good care of your daughter. Thank you for trusting me with her.”

Wow. Hearing Ben speak to my dad like this is causing my insides to turn into mush.

My dad smiles for the first time tonight. Shaking hands with Ben, he wishes us a good night. I’m about to open the door, when Ben stops me.

“No, let me get the door for you. That was the deal, remember?” he says softly.

“Oh, yes.”

Smiling, he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers tightly together. It’s the first time we do. Holding hands is a big deal. The last time I held hands with a guy was with my ex two years ago.

Does this mean that Ben likes me? Duh, girl. Why do you think the guy brought you cupcakes to your house? To watch you eat them? Of course he likes you. It shows he put some thought into tonight. Count your blessings and open your legs.

Slutty Cathy always shows up at the most inopportune moments.

I barely register leaving the house and making our way to his car. I’m now sitting on the cool leather seat and thinking about holding hands and slutty voices, when I sense Ben’s eyes on me. The way he’s staring at me…

Suddenly the car feels hot, too hot. I watch Ben following the movement of my legs as I rub them together.

“Screw it. I can’t wait any longer,” Ben says.

He grabs the back of my neck forcefully as he pulls me on top of him. I knew he was strong by looking at the muscles on his body, but not like this. As I straddle him, our lips touch for the second time and it’s like the air is being sucked out of me slowly, deliciously, tenderly. His lips, soft and sweet, kiss me as if mine are made out of glass. He’s gentle at first, but when our tongues touch fire explodes inside of me, inside of him, inside of both of us.

His kiss isn’t sweet anymore. It isn’t tender. It turns into an aggressive, rough, hungry, hard, teeth clashing, tongue against tongue kind of kiss.

And, I love it. Oh, how I love it.

When our lips part, we’re left panting and trying to catch our breath. As we look at each other in the little space we have allowed to come between our bodies, I notice the way our hands are tangled in each other’s hair, fisting handfuls of it, pulling our faces closer, clutching as if we are the other’s life support.

I can’t believe it. I can’t. This just doesn’t happen in real life.

“Fuck, Cathy…just like that you make me lose control, huh?”

Gulping, and trying to untangle the thoughts coming from two different directions in my body, inside my head and inside my panties, all I can manage to do is shake my head and grin.

Ben laughs, plants a quick kiss on my lips and moves me off his lap. Once I’m back in my seat, he rests his hand on my knee. “I’m sorry about that kiss. I was planning to take my time tonight…go slow, you know…but when you came down wearing that sexy dress, showing those killer legs, and looking so fucking sexy and beautiful…I kind of wanted to jump you right then and there, even with your dad watching us, but I figured he wouldn’t let me take his daughter out again. And after that kiss,” pausing, he grabs my chin so I’m facing him, “Look at me, Cathy…I want to see your eyes.” Applying slight pressure to my chin, “I need to see you again.”

Blushing, I’m so glad that the car is dark.

“But the date hasn’t really begun…how do you know you will want to see me again if we haven’t even started the first one?” My voice is small. I’m afraid because I so want his words to be true. I like him. I like him a lot.

Letting go of my knee, he grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, planting a kiss inside my palm. “I just do. I’m sure of a few things in life…that no matter what you do, death will always catch up to you. You’ve got to work hard to pay for life, party harder to enjoy life, and love hardest to live life, and now, you.”

“Oh.”

DING-DING-DING.

Have I just won the lotto?

When we are in Serendipity, a group of drop dead gorgeous girls approach our table to ask him if he is Benjamin Stanwood, the ex-quarterback for the University of Florida. Blushing a little, Ben says he was, making the girls squeal and ask him for his autograph. As the girls flirt with him, he reaches for my hand. They all look at me as if they’re wondering how the hell a plain Jane has ended up with a hunk.

I’ve been wondering the same thing the entire night.

Ben clears his throat, “Sorry, girls. Here are your autographs. Thank you for coming over and saying hello. It’s really cool of you, but I’m trying to impress my girl…and so far it isn’t working.”

The girls turn to look at me, anger and disbelief written all over their faces. I have never been the kind of girl to gloat over others when something right goes my way, but in this moment some hidden attitude-ridden part of me wants to stand up, give them my best Queens bad girl fuck you look, snapping my fingers in their plastic faces and say, “Suck it, Bitches.”

But I don’t.

Instead, I grip Ben’s hand harder. His eyes meet mine and what I see in them elates me.

The rest of the date passes in a blur. I don’t remember much except for the softness in his eyes when he looked at me, his sweet but flirtatious smile every time his hands “accidentally” grazed my butt or boobs, the very pleased and smug expression on his face after every kiss we shared left me dazed and unfocused. But the thing that I remember the most is the way Ben never let go of my hand, almost as if he owns it or like it belongs there.

After he drops me off and kisses the hell out of me, I make my way to my bedroom, walking like a living zombie. The crazy beating of my heart has to be proof that I am still alive, right?

Lying in bed, I can’t remember getting out of my clothes and into my pajamas or removing the little make up I had left from the hot and heavy make out session we’d just had outside my house in his car. My lips feel numb, yet tingly like they are on fire. They are so hot to the touch; it’s like I’m burning from the inside out.

My breasts are sore from his hands, my nipples still hard, and I’m swollen and raw in between my legs from his fingers, but it feels good.

So very good.

My body is humming with excitement because it’s alive again. It has been so long.

Staring and looking at the shadows playing on my ceiling, I try to will my eyes to close, but I can’t. The images of him touching me, whispering what he wants to do to me, what he is trying hard to refrain himself from doing…the feel of his erection in my hand…

I’m still in a daze when I hear my phone ringing. Answering without looking at the caller I.D., I smile when I hear his voice.

“Hi, Cathy.”

“Hi.”

“I miss you already,” he says huskily.

“I...I am…me too.”

“You’re what?”

“Hmm…not sure I should say it.” I whisper.

“Damn, Cathy. I’m still in a fucking daze. I have been since we kissed back in my car when I first picked you up. Haven’t been able to shake it off. And I don’t want to.”

I hear him sucking in his breath, then releasing it. “I can’t close my eyes because when I do all I see is you. When I breathe, all I smell is you. And I would much rather have the real deal next to me than a dream. When can I see you again? I promise not to jump you like a starved man...but man, Cathy, do you have any idea of the things you do to me? Of the things I want to do to you? What I almost did to you in my car?”

“Yes.”

“You do? Well, shit.”

“Shhh…let me talk. I know how you’re feeling because I feel the same way. I’m feeling every single thing you just mentioned…just more,” I say.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I’ll be damned.”

Silence.

“Cathy?” Ben asks.

“Yes?”

“I like you. I really like you.”

“I like you, too.”

“Fuck, I want to…no, scratch that, I need to see you again.”

“Me, too.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“And the day after tomorrow, and the day after that?”

“Yes, and yes.”

“Cathy…”

“Ben…”

“Night, beautiful girl. And thank you for going out with me.”

“Night, Ben. And thank you for asking me.”

“Do we really have to hang up?”

“Yes! Night,” I say, giggling.

Closing my eyes, I grab my pillow and scream into it as I let myself believe that this magic night wasn’t a dream.

I can still remember being able to feel the smile on my swollen lips as I begin to fall into a deep sleep.