*This is a work of fiction. None of this actually happened. Just one of my fantasies.*
She had just moved to New York City. She'd wanted to move here for as long as she could remember. She craved the lights, the excitement, the massive amounts of people. She loved walking down Broadway and getting lost in the sea of men and women going about their day, rushing to work, running errands. She was browsing through the history section at the bookstore near her apartment and spotted a book she wanted. But, when she reached for it, someone else was reaching for it too. They briefly touched hands and both pulled back.
"Sorry," they both said at the same time. She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't believe it. Jesse Eisenberg was standing in front of her, smiling. A silly grin spread across her face.
"You're interested in history," he asked?
"Yes. I need this book for class," she said.
"What school do you go to," he asked?
"I don't," she said with a giggle. "I teach history to juniors in high school." He must think she was still in college. Ha!
"I'm Jesse," he said.
"I know who you are. I'm Beth," she said.
"Can I buy you some coffee," he asked her?
"Sure," she answered. After he got some coffee, and she some Chai tea, they sat together at one of the small tables in the bookstore café. They talked about history, school, his family, her family. She told him why she had moved from Oklahoma to New York City. He told her about his latest movie. He offered to walk her home, since she lived nearby and darkness was falling fast. They stepped out into the cold night together and began walking. New York City was even more beautiful when it was blanketed with snow.
"This is me," she said and pointed to building. They stood for an awkward moment in silence. "Do you wanna come up?"
"Yes," he said. She got that silly grin on her face again. She had been so attracted to him ever since she saw that movie about zombies. She'd seen almost all of his movies since then. And, she knew she might never get an opportunity like this again. They walked into her apartment. She turned on the lights and put her keys on the side table. She offered him a drink which he graciously declined. He asked for a tour, so she showed him her small apartment, the tour ending in the doorway of the bedroom.
"And this is the bedroom," she said. She smiled at him and glanced up.
"What," he asked, running his hands through his hair insecurely?
"Can I touch your hair," she asked?