UN-believable. I hadn't known him for very long and already I was conjuring up images of what he might feel like making love to me. I knew his first name, I knew he had a girlfriend, I knew he was once my boyfriend's best friend, and I knew that he'd gone to the same university as the rest of us, and since he'd been friends with my friends through high school and college I was amazed that I hadn't met this guy yet. But I didn't know anything else. And yet I very badly wanted to wind up in his bed.
I met him for the first time at a party a couple of weeks ago. Several of my friends from work had begged me to come, even though they knew that it was a reunion of sorts for their school friends and I wouldn't really know anybody besides them. "We just want you to come, Devra, please. You'll have fun! We promise," they said. "Oh, and you can also meet Ethan," they added.
Well, since my boyfriend, Marty, was part of that crowd I'd heard a lot about Ethan just from him, to say nothing of what everyone else was saying. Apparently Ethan was this incredibly amazing guy who'd decided to work on forest fire studies around the country instead of becoming an engineer, like the rest of us, and was doing very well with his work. He had managed to remain friends with my friends despite being miles apart from them in distance and profession.
"Oh all right, I'll go," I said after a more than sufficient amount of arm-twisting.
And that's where it began. When I met him that night, I had no inclinations toward him whatsoever. Sure, he had the combination of looks that usually does it for me, light eyes, medium brown hair, strong jaw, and a light complexion and he was taller than I was, but he seemed...I can't explain it...not my type somehow. He didn't pay me any undue attention that I noticed, and I was polite and made idle chit-chat with him, but there weren't any sparks that I noticed. So I was surprised to find myself unable to stop thinking about him later on.
*****
We were all at a sports bar one evening a few weeks later watching our alma mater's football team get its butt kicked, and Ethan showed up, to everyone's surprise. He was supposed to be out of town on a survey, but of course, we were happy to see him. His girlfriend was with him but his eyes went straight to mine, and then to the red and blue feathered clip that I always wore on the back of my head on game days.
He reached around my head, tousled the feathers and said, "Cute!!" And gave me the warmest smile I'd seen in a long time.
His girlfriend looked daggers at me. I shrugged and gave her a look back that said, "What?" She turned her back on me.
For the rest of the evening we hung out, chatted, spent time joking and laughing with everyone else. Again, nothing out of the ordinary, but something felt different to me this time. I shrugged it off and soon forgot about it.
As the game was coming to a close Ethan's girlfriend started whining that she was tired and wanted to go home. Ethan obviously didn't want to and, much to her annoyance put her in a cab and said he'd follow her later. The rest of us went out wandering aimlessly around the city, which is about all there is to do at that time of night, even on a Saturday. As people got tired, they turned around to walk back to their own apartments or got their own cabs, and after a disagreement between Marty and me over whether or not we should go home as well, he, too, said goodbye to us and suddenly, Ethan and I found ourselves alone.
"Any place in particular you'd like to go?" he asked.
I shrugged and said, "No. Besides, what's open at this hour?"
He chuckled and said, "Good point!"
We kept walking, pulling up our jacket collars against the cool night, and each of us gazed around the steel and concrete canyons that form the heart of the city. We marveled at the lights and how the clear, cloudless sky seemed to enhance the way things looked. The scene was very romantic and I was beginning to notice it, but I was afraid to say anything. The conversation slowly died as we each became too nervous about saying anything that could be misconstrued.
Suddenly we stopped, and he said quietly, "Here we are."
I looked around and said, "Yeah. But just where is 'here?'"
He said simply, "My building."
I looked up, and up. This was a skyscraper with a curved façade made of nothing but blue mirrors, more than sixty stories tall, and was reflecting the night sky absolutely beautifully. He lived in one of the most expensive buildings in the city. Corporate executives and celebrities lived here, not people that would hang out with an ordinary person like me. I continued to stare up the side of the building, almost dumbfounded.
I said the only thing that came to mind. "They must be paying you one hell of a salary if you can afford to live here."
He laughed softly and said, "They actually gave me the apartment. It's one of the smaller ones and I have to move if I ever lose this job. I can't really afford to live here otherwise."
I looked at him, and then shook my head. "In that case, nice perk."
"Indeed," he agreed.
We gazed at each other for a few minutes and then he cleared his throat. "Would you like to come up and see it?"
I was tempted. Oh, I was tempted. But I didn't understand what I was feeling and I was confused by it. I was afraid he'd kiss me at any moment and I knew I would kiss him back, all reservations fleeing from my head, my thoughts driven by my body's response to him, and I didn't know what kinds of consequences that would have.
So I said, "I'd love to, but I really should be getting home myself."
"Sure," he said easily, as though he knew that was the response I'd give.
Neither of us was really willing to leave, though. We gazed into each others' eyes for a few minutes more, both of us wanting what we knew we shouldn't, and then I finally managed to tear myself away.
"Good night," I said quietly, and turned to leave. He caught my arm and said, "Good night," and gave me a small peck on my cheek that sent such a thrill through my body that the shudder was almost visible.
When I got home my boyfriend was already in bed and asleep, and I was glad because I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings that were swirling around Ethan, and I felt like I couldn't make them stop. I wasn't sure I wanted to.
Another couple of weeks went by and I was still thinking about him, but I hadn't heard from him at all. Part of me was relieved and part of me was hurt. I knew we'd had a bit of a moment there in front of his building, but I also knew that it was wrong for me to feel what I was feeling. Sure, I could easily break up with my boyfriend, in fact we were heading in that direction anyway so it wasn't him that I felt guilty about. But I didn't know the status of Ethan's relationship with his girlfriend and because of that, I knew that wanting anything with him at all wasn't right.
I had just made the decision to keep Ethan in the realms of fantasy when he texted me in the middle of my workday. I was standing over the plans for a new skyscraper with an architect arguing with the building's would-be owner about much needed structural support on the lower levels, and he wasn't listening to either of us. He was one of those types who had a vision in his head but knew nothing about engineering; he thought the picture in his head was sufficient and we needed to listen to him. In short, he wanted what he wanted and that was what he wanted when it came to the building. He was giving me one hell of a headache.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I excused myself from the table, relieved to have a reason to get away from the guy for a moment. It was short and to the point, "At the airport waiting for a flite. Delayed. Want 2 meet me here when u get off work?"
I studied the number for a moment, not sure whose it was, and then I suddenly felt hot and flushed like I'd developed a fever. My heart started pounding as his name flashed through my mind.
"Sure," I pecked back. "C u there @ 6," and I went back to my argument with the very adamant and equally stupid rich guy.
I spent the trip to the airport wondering how I was supposed to get past security, because I figured he'd be at his gate. I decided I'd call him when I got there and have him come outside to ticketing, so I was surprised to find him already waiting for me in the ticketing area. He smiled a huge, gorgeous smile when he saw me and we approached each other like we were going to hug, but stopped short and grasped each other's upper arms instead.
"Shouldn't you be at your gate in case your flight leaves earlier than they've said?" I asked.
He shook his head, a dark cloud of frustration crossing his face. "It's been cancelled. I can't get another flight till morning, which means I'll be late for my meeting. They already know about it but they aren't happy either."
I squeezed his arms and said, "Well, everything should be okay anyway. It's not like you have any control over what the airlines do."
He seemed to relax, as though that thought hadn't occurred to him. "Yeah, you're right. C'mon, let's go get some food."
We went to a restaurant downtown that the both of us knew, and had a lot more fun than I thought we would. I found that I could talk to him about anything and everything, and our conversation lasted well beyond dinner. We left when we realized that we were probably going to get kicked out soon, and once again we found ourselves outside his apartment building, staring at each other in awkward silence.
I couldn't deal with it anymore, but I also couldn't do what I wanted to do most, which was kiss him.
"Do you want to come up this evening?" he asked, a joking lilt in his voice.
Before I could even think, I heard myself say, "Yes."
