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.
