Never Again(41)

Me: Do people really have nothing better to do than harass others? I can’t believe we were photographed and we haven’t even noticed.



My phone rings and I immediately answer.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself about it, even I can’t tell that’s you in the pictures,” Sophie tries to comfort me. “Speaking of which, how was the date? Did it exceed your expectations? I hope you didn’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I smile at the memory of our evening. “Sophie! It was only our first date! I didn’t really know what to expect from him, but we had a nice time, and he was a perfect gentleman.” And I don’t think there’s anything Sophie wouldn’t want to do with Jake if she was in my shoes.

“Just nice? Huh, he’s obviously losing his touch,” she chuckles. “Details, woman! I need details!”

I shake my head, sighing. “There’s not much to tell. You read everything in the newspapers already. You probably know more than I do, considering the press always blows up the story. We only went to the cinema, had a pleasant chat in the park, and then he drove me home. Oh, we had a little fight, and he kissed me.” I bite my lip at the memory of his soft lips on mine.

“Okay, okay, hold your horses. I’m confused,” Sophie gasps. “You had a fight? What would you and Jake fight about?” I take a deep breath. I’m not really in the mood to discuss the silly event, but I still tell her.

“He wanted to know too much at once. I’m not ready to talk about Josh with him. When he realized I was uncomfortable, he apologized and took me home. He left, but then he came back, knocked on my door, kissed the hell out of me, turned around and left without saying a word. The end.”

“I always knew Jake was a man of actions,” Sophie says brightly. She is quiet for a second and then she asks. “So, how was it? I bet he’s a fantastic kisser.” If only she knew. I can still feel the pressure of his lips on mine. “It was...” I search for the right word.

“Intense? Hot? Oh, so very good? Unforgettable?” Sophie jumps in.

I giggle. “Yes, all that and more.”

Sophie interrogates me further, and when she’s satisfied with all the collected information, we hang up.

I quickly eat some breakfast and hurry off to work.



~ * ~



“Morning, beautiful. Do you want to come over to my place for dinner tonight?” Jake asks as I answer my phone the next morning.

“Good morning to you too,” I say while I fix my coffee. “Um...” I start, not sure whether to say yes.

“Okay, okay, not dinner. I’ll want you to stay over. Lunch then?” I’m quiet, analyzing his question. Why would he want me to stay over? Oh... Oooh... Recognition flashes in my head. Definitely not dinner. “Hello?” I hear Jake on the other side of the line. “Are you still there?” I nod, and then I remember we’re speaking over the phone and he can’t see me.

“Deal. But I have no idea where you live.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll pick you up. Be ready by noon.” I glance at the watch. I still have plenty of time. It’s only 9am.

“Okay,” I say, and we say goodbye. Exactly at noon, I hear knocking on the door. I take a last look in the mirror before I let him in. Once again, I’m overwhelmed by the divine smell of his aftershave. Jake is standing in front of me, hot as ever, in his washed out jeans, and a leather jacket, which is my favorite.

“Hey,” we both say at the same time. Jake leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. His kiss renders me speechless. Why is this happening to me?

“You look amazing,” he says, as he inspects me from head to toe. I didn’t dress up or anything. I’m wearing light blue jeans and a simple purple shirt. “Ready to go?” Nodding, I take my keys and we go to the parking lot. “Do the pictures in the newspapers bother you? I don’t have any idea how they manage to find out where I am. I hate it so much.” His hand is on the small of my back as we exit the building.

“It’s okay. I’m almost unrecognizable in the picture, so don’t worry,” I assure him. We enter his fancy sports car and take off. One Republic and their song, Counting Stars, is playing in the background on the radio as we are pleasantly chatting about my work and his profession. We drive to a big iron fence. Four paparazzi are standing in front of it as we pass them by, their cameras are pointed at us. It’s a good thing the windows are dark tinted. The fence closes behind us, and it takes a few seconds to drive up to the entrance. Mouth wide open, I stare at the house. “Where are we?” I ask, still staring at the huge, two-story building.