A Week in New York(20)

I looked at him sideways to see if maybe I’d heard him wrong.

“We could get out of the city and spend the weekend together before you go back to London.”

I wanted to say yes. I really wanted to say yes, but I could feel myself opening up to him. I could feel my guard coming down, and he was peering across the threshold, about to step inside. In normal circumstances between two normal people, that might have been a good thing, but we were supposed to be just having fun. I was getting over someone else. He wasn’t meant to be the guy that got to know me, that took me away for weekends, that gave me more orgasms in the past three days than I’d ever had in my life. He was meant to be uncomplicated fun. This felt like it was verging on complicated.

“Jesus, I can see the cogs in your brain working at a million miles an hour. What are you thinking? No bullshit.”

“I’m thinking I don’t know you.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but you’ll have to tell me some stuff first.”

I pursed my lips at him. “Go on,” I said.

“First, you tell me your name.”

I nodded. “And?”

“And then second, you come to the Hamptons this weekend.”

“Anything else?”

“You tell me about what or who you’re escaping.”

“What do you mean?”

“The guy. The guy before New York.”

I started to remove my legs from his lap, but he dropped his fork to his plate and held them where they were.

“I’m not sure I want to know you that badly,” I said under my breath.

“The construction thing is bullshit, I have an older sister, I work too hard, I’ve slept with too many women and mushrooms are my favorite food.”



“So now, you have to tell me,” he said.

“My name?” I asked staring at my plate. I took a deep breath. “Anna. No bullshit.”

“But I chose your name.” He sounded confused. I stayed silent, playing with my risotto. “I chose your real name?” I could tell he was looking at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up.

“Like you knew me before you met me,” I said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear myself.

“I think I did,” he said.





Ethan

I was thrown off balance by Anna’s revelation. It felt like it meant something—something big—and that made me feel fucking uncomfortable. It was new territory for me. I didn’t do meaning or anything big. I stared at my plate. Fuck.

“Tell me about the guy.” I wanted to know, and I needed the distraction from my own thoughts.

“Tell you what?”

“What happened that made you need to get away. To have these rules.”

“You know what we need?” She jumped up from the table and dived into her bag. She retrieved an iPod.

She wasn’t going to be pushed.

“An '80s dance-off.”

I couldn’t help but grin at her. “I would say that that’s exactly what we don’t need.”

She bent over the iPod station until music blared. She spun around, her eyes bright in expectation. “Come on, dance with me.” Her hands flew up in the air and she started to jump up and down. “I love this one.”

It was Duran Duran, I was pretty sure. I did not love it, but I enjoyed watching her love it, even though she was dancing like a complete lunatic.

I stood and folded my arms as I watched her, determined that I wouldn’t join in. She came over and grabbed at my robe. I laughed at her as she dragged me a few feet toward the music. “I’m not dancing to this shit.”

“Dancing is the best distraction there is,” she said as she spun around and continued to jump and move in front of me. After a few minutes the music faded and the beginning of another song, a better song, drifted between us. It was Chaka Khan’s classic, Ain’t Nobody. Her laughter faded and she turned and started to walk toward the music. “What about some Blondie?”

My arms unfolded and stopped her and I turned her around and pulled her toward me.

“Dance with me,” I said pulling her arms up around my neck, then sliding mine around her waist and moving to the music. The beat was sensual and yearning. I’d forgotten how much I liked this song and I liked dancing to it with her. I’d not danced with a woman since high school. I didn’t often listen to music anymore, but listening to this I wondered why. The music matched my mood completely and the voice was telling me everything I wished Anna would say to me. Jesus. I was fucked.

Her head rested on my chest and I pressed my lips to her hair. We stayed like that until the song drifted out and something I didn’t recognize replaced it.