Page 197 of Two Marlboros

Was I really sure that the person in front of me was the Alan I had known up to that moment? Because that was such a delicate scent that could only be smelled by getting so close; and had he put it on thinking that I would?

He held me a little more, as he gently stroked my back with one hand, and I lost myself in that embrace that allowed me to be a part of him, to access that little piece of his heart that perhaps he thought would remain vacant forever.

That thought, coupled with the smell of cologne that I smelled with every breath, sent a widespread warmth and flicker of arousal surging through my body that veered downward instead. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had bundled up more than usual, and the idea that he had done so in order to spend a special evening with me caused me to shudder. His forehead rested on my temple and my pulse synchronized with his, knowing that if I turned away, even slightly, our lips would surely meet.

Suddenly I remembered that along with Alan I had also invited Ash, and it was obvious that the cologne had been his idea. Ash had always had, though he had never told me, a very definite idea for Alan and me, only I found it rather odd that he had picked it up.

Yet, when in addition to his nose his lips also brushed my cheek with that discretion that had always distinguished him, I realized that perhaps there was some will on his part as well, a desire for physicality that he barely controlled. And it was a desire I didn’t mind at all. Being in his arms was comforting, and feeling his lips on my skin was what I had always needed without ever having realized it.

We could have stayed that way for eternity as far as I was concerned. A warm, sincere - in fact, honest - hug. There were no filters and no secrets, just him and me, lost in that moment of time that I had no intention of ending as much as it made me feel good.

But Alan suddenly stiffened and pulled his face away from mine, loosened the embrace and gently but firmly pulled me away. His gaze on the opposite sidewalk, he sighed and cast me a fleeting glance.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

It made me smile at his terror of having stepped outside of protocol, but I was almost comforted by having rediscovered a trait of him I had come to know.

“There was nothing wrong with that.”

I waited for him to relax, but, on the contrary, he seemed more agitated than before, with those beady eyes wandering from point to point, everywhere but on me. Yes, I could tell there was something stirring inside him, and he had no idea how to control it.

For a moment I wished the others had really forgotten about the invitation. The hug we had exchanged was not a farewell, but a prelude to something I had sometimes thought about. But if that was a signa - smoky and cryptic, in full “Alan style” - then perhaps I could at least hope for a kiss.

I was aware that with my departure we were going nowhere, but nevertheless I wanted it, I longed for it. It was the kiss I deserved, that he deserved; because even if only for a few moments I had felt loved, and he had perhaps realized that he could love again. We deserved it.

I began to feel like his and to perceive him as a little bit mine; I knew it wasn’t right, because he wasn’t my boyfriend after all, but that was just how I felt at that moment. His.

Maybe we could have, just for one night...?

That thought found no conclusion, because Ash’s voice broke any spell that had been created between us, and I cursed him a little bit. Alan turned to greet him, and I watched as he put back on the mask of the professional, aloof man, with the doubt that perhaps he would never take it off again for the entire evening. I was glad to say goodbye to everyone, but I was tired of those half-hearted moments with Alan that each time never ended as I imagined. Perhaps the only chance I had was to convince him not to leave right away and spend the rest of the evening together.

Soon afterwards Molly and Nelly also arrived, already lost in their chatter even though they did not know each other that well; and since we were full, we entered the club, while I was torn between wanting to be alone with Alan and fearing that, at the end of the evening, he would leave with everyone else.

“So, what are you going to do in California?” Ash asked, then grabbed his glass of beer and started drinking.

“I’m going to work on a farm, they give me room and board in exchange for helping in the fields and with the animals,” I answered all at once. Alan was sitting next to me, the girls across from me, Ash at the head of the table. They had put us at a table on the back patio, on uncomfortable plastic chairs that, as soon as you moved them, got stuck in the joints of the wooden floor beams. The only thing I could save was the music in the background that occasionally had me humming.

“I mean, you’ll have a bucolic life,” he continued, chuckling perhaps at an image he had in his head. The others followed closely, but Alan had done so much less than the others. Confirming that impression, he took his drink and stuck to the straw, despite the fact that he was already beginning to scrape the bottom.

“Well, not that I mind. I need to find some time for myself, so a life away from the city is ideal. I’m quite excited, actually.”

Molly giggled. “Too bad, I hear there are some really nice studs on California beaches. Sticking around sheep and vegetables, I guess you’ll miss them all.”

The sucking of Alan’s straw stopped. I flared up the next moment and a general silence fell among all present. I struggled to come up with an answer before Molly realized she had said something inappropriate.

“I told you, it’s going to be a reflective trip, so I don’t think I’m going to be interested in the big boys from California.”

I tried to give her a smirk of agreement, but she didn’t catch it and laughed again.

“Come on, knowing you, you’ll have a line there as well, and I can’t believe you won’t take advantage of it even once!”

Frost. Heat. Frost. Panic. Of course, I wasn’t going to take advantage, of course not, but the fact that she had remarked on that aspect was never going to make me credible in Alan’s eyes. How embarrassing. I knew I should say something, but I had nothing in mind. Heat. Frost. Panic. I met Ash’s gaze and asked for help. He caught it, thank goodness.

“How about we have a second round of drinks instead? Because if you don’t drink, what kind of aperitif is it?”

Everyone liked the idea, and Ash motioned to one of the waiters to order again. I cast my eye on Alan and thought he would never reciprocate, instead, the next moment he stared at me, with a look that left little to the imagination: he was hurt. He wasn’t my boyfriend, no, but up until that moment we had both acted as if the situation had been different, and who wouldn’t be pissed off to hear someone talk like that about their guy, to imagine him frolicking on the other side of the United States?

Mine and Alan’s chairs were pretty close together, much closer than Molly’s and Nelly’s, which had instead stayed wherethey found them. It was evident that in between chatting we had moved them closer together under the guise of freeing those poor chairs from getting stuck in the joints of the wooden planks, but it was not something I had consciously done. Alan occupied the armrest of his chair, and my gaze was drawn to the hand placed on it. It was large, dry and not very bony, looking rather smooth. I thought for a moment of brushing against it, strong in the knowledge that the presence of the table would prevent anyone but him from noticing it. I felt that something had cracked with those talks, and I could think of no other way to seek a connection with him.

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