Page 14 of All My Love
9
Elizabeth
I am finally in Paris!The city of love is more beautiful than I could have imagined. Oh, and imagine it I have. The tall Tower with its twinkling lights against a black and blue inky sky. The shops and cafes dotting the narrow, winding, tree-lined streets. I’ve seen it all in books and on the internet and now I finally get to take it allin.
And can you imagine a smell? Why not? Warm butter, honey, chocolate, red wine, it’s all there in my imagination, and it’s finally here all laid out in front of me to taste. Go on, imagine it. I’llwait.
And the men! The men are so forward. Last night, for example, I was sitting with Ben at the most gorgeous outdoor cafe I’ve ever seen in real life. I’ve seen pictures of places like that, mostly on social media, but it was so incredible to actually be there. It’s surreal. It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience, and the way everything’s clicking into place feels soright.
Oh, back to the men. I was sitting with Ben and he had to take an important work call. As soon as he left the table, a man sitting at the little outdoor bar came over and started to talk to me. He wasn’t shy, he wasn’t coy, he just came right up to me and told me that he thought I looked like an interesting girl and wanted mynumber.
It was a little bit brazen, I have to admit. I mean, I was sitting there with Ben, and this other man swooped in just seconds later. He was cute, he was nice, and he wasdirect.
It was all very flattering, in fact. A man coming up to you when you’re on what looks like a date with an entirely different man, no Mrs. Doubtfire type situation there to give you anything like plausibledeniability?
I ended up not giving my number to this Parisian man. It didn’t feel right. I think Ben assumes I did, and I’m not going to correct his assumption. It feels as though I would be overstepping somehow if I tried to correcthim.
This is spring break, a time when thousands of coeds across America venture to far-away lands to have sex with foreigners. I should let myself do this. Allow myself this little indulgence. Give myself over to the romance and mystery of thecity.
I have a perfectcandidate.
The perfect candidate, though, isBen.
Which means he’s anything butperfect.
I take a deep breath and close my laptop. I cannot publish this. My parents read my blog, god help me, my mom even has an alert on her phone that informs her every time I hit the publish button. My father is slightly less tech-savvy but just as interested as my mom is, and if they published my blog as a serial in Reader’s Digest he would be all over it. If my father, especially, knew what I was thinking about his friend, I don’t know who he’d kill first - me orBen.
It’d be Ben. Of course it’d be Ben. In my father’s mind, I can do absolutely no wrong. There’s no friction between me and my parents, and there never has been. I’m good. A good girl, a good student, just good. Plain. Vanilla. I’ve never rebelled. I think the only thing I’ve ever done that even hints at rebellion is having a wine cooler one New Year’s in my cousin’s friend’s basement. I didn’t even have the benefit of getting drunk and enjoying myself while I sat on an uncomfortable chair, still as a gopher, watching the two of them play video games with their classmates, but I did have the displeasure of a headache the next day. Now I only drink wine, and I’m all the better for it. Less sugar. Glass of water after each of them. Everything is smooth sailing there, and it always hasbeen.
Maybe I’m so interested in Ben at the moment because I want more friction in my life. More danger. Something forbidden but right there, tempting, like a juicy red apple in a tree. It’s just out of reach, but hey look, here’s a ladder. It’s not as out of reach as you think. All you have to do is start toclimb.
Whatever happened last night between me and Ben was nothing. There was no “happening” in that happening. It was a flash before my eyes and it disappeared just as quickly. His heated gaze when I saw him in the kitchen dissolved and was replaced by only warmth. Maybe he was talking to some woman on the phone and hadn’t yet clicked out of that “talking with a potential sexual partner”mode.
But that change hasn’t permeated my imagination. I’m still stuck on the heated part. I was stuck on the heated part all damnnight.
Taking a sip of my tea, I mentally go over what I have on the agenda for today. There’s a bakery I want to check out for breakfast. Ben has this work dinner tonight so I’ll be on my own, so I will take in all the sights until it’s time for his dinner to be over, at which point he said we can walk home together if our paths intersect. We’re both going to the same place, afterall.
I gather my laptop and mug and retreat back down the little ladder to my bedroom. The soft, warm breeze from the window is delivering the scent of roses and lilacs from the window box out on the terrace, and when I put my computer and mug down on the small desk in the corner, I swallow around the lump in mythroat.
My subconscious mind has done this to me. I don’t understand it. I promised myself that this week would be spent taking in all of the sights I could. I vowed that I would subsist on caffeine and excitement because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I want to get the most out of it, and that I would only sleep or stay indoors if the weather or my exhausted mind and body demandedit.
I can’t help myself. I lay down on my bed and put my nose to the pillowcase, seeking out Ben’s scent. These must be a spare set of sheets and not a set he reserves only for guests. He must switch these out for his bed as well, because the more in inhale and take in the fresh cotton scent the more I can get a sense of him. It sends a rolling wave through me and ignites my mind, and when I turn over to my back and let one finger drift along the inside of the elastic on my shorts, a ripple of energy slides down into my panties, but I stopmyself.
* * *
I slipped backinto the deepest sleep, trading early morning light for mid-day shadows. I already know it. I don’t have to look at the time before I know that I’ve definitely slept too long. This is totally against my plans, but the sleep I just caught for a couple of hours was the sweetest, most heavenly and refueling slumber I’ve everhad.
I stretch my arms over my head and go over to the little desk housing my laptop, phone and mug. The tea’s cold now, but tea is okay cold, so I take a sip. Hm. I think it might be even better like this. I grab my phone and take a look in the mirror over the chest of drawers. There’s a refreshed glow about me that I appreciate more than I thought I would. I smile to my own reflection. There’s a little twinkle in my eye, and I give myself a little side-eye as I glance down at myphone.
I don’t have any notifications. I wish Ben would text me, call me, something. I’m not this girl. I don’t sit around waiting for a guy to text me, not because I text first or anything, but because I’ve never been interested enough in a man to let myself give myself over to the process of…falling forBen?
Is that what thisis?
I wish it away and start to get ready for my day. I have too many places to go and things to see. When I’m out on the street, I immediately set my mind on finding the fastest route possible to the bakery I’m interested in, ordering a Nutella crepe and a latte. I take my food outside so I can people-watch. There are plenty of beautiful people here, but I can’t get my mind off ofBen.
* * *
By the timeI get home, Ben is already gone. I flop onto the couch to send my parents a quick email and let them know everything’s going well. I’ve only spoken to them on the phone once so far, but I didn’t tell them about the credit card snafu. No need to worry them after-the-fact and with them unable to do anything aboutit.
