"If she can't come then I'll give you a call. I can get your number from Kay Marie," I say, rather graciously, I think.
"Sounds good," Clive says with a bright smile. "It was nice seeing you all, and I hope I hear from you soon, Kelli. If not, I guess I'll see you at the concert."
"Alright, talk to you soon," I say with a wave as he lopes away.
"What the fuck, Rae? Now I can't go to that concert!" I say as soon as he is out of earshot.
"Yes you can," Rachel insists. "You should go with him. He's cute, and sweet, and he's totally into you!"
Sam and Yuki nod their agreement.
"I just had my heart trampled on! It's been like six weeks, Rachel. I'm not ready to date!"
"Well maybe – " Rachel starts.
"I will not lead a guy like him on. He is sweet and deserves better. He's definitely dating material, but not right now," I say firmly.
"You're right. I'm sorry," Rachel says and flashes her puppy dog eyes at me. Damn her! I can never stay mad at her, she's always so damn sincere.
"Whatever," I say and go back to settling the bill.
******
I've taken to playing a little game on my walks through Rock Creek Park. If I just let my mind wander, everything I see reminds me of Ian. Hot guy jogging – Ian would look even hotter. Little girl climbing on a rock – if that were our daughter, Ian would be beside her making sure she didn't fall. Homeless man under a tree – Ian would tell him to come to the park for food. No matter what I see, my mind still turns to thoughts of Ian.
So instead of letting my mind idly process the world around me, I create stories about what I'm seeing. Today I'm particularly taken with three people walking in front of me. Two are tall, lithe women wearing insanely high heels for a walk through the park, and the third is a short, stout man with thick black hair. The women are on either side of him and having an animated conversation literally over his head. I have no idea what they are saying; I think they are speaking Russian.
I imagine they are competing for the short man's affections, each trying to convince him that she's more deserving of his love. The blonde talks of her skills in the kitchen, and the brunette argues that her chicken kiev is infinitely better. The blonde then boasts about how fit she is while the other woman gestures dramatically that she can lift her leg behind her head. I don't know why, but it makes me giggle and I eagerly look around the park to find a new story.
Right then, a clap of thunder rings out, causing me to look up and see a storm moving in. I didn't bring my umbrella so I decide I better jog back home unless I want to get drenched. D.C. spring storms come on fast and furious and I mentally kick myself for not being prepared.
I make it home just as it begins to pour. Relieved, I plop down on the couch and turn on the TV. I've started watching Entourage on Netflix, so I queue up the next episode and go to grab an apple from the kitchen.
Well into my third episode of the second season there's a knock at my door.
I wonder who that is? I get up to answer it and do a quick check of my appearance. I really should have showered after my jog home, but oh well. It's probably someone selling something. They picked a hell of a day to go door to door though, the storm hasn't abated in the least.
I open the door and freeze. It is not someone selling something. It is Ian. My brain shuts down and I stand there staring at him.
He's drenched, and only getting wetter since I've not invited him in. He's in jeans, boots and his leather jacket. He's sporting a short beard, and there's just enough light still outside that I can see how brilliant his eyes are - such a beautiful green.
I don't know how long I stand there staring at him. Neither he nor I speak, nor move, for what feels like an eternity. We just stare.
Finally, he says, "Hi."
I blink, and swallow. My mouth has gone suddenly dry. "Hi," I answer on a breath. I do not move. I do not invite him in.
Another minute passes and finally he says, "May I come in?"
My mind flashes to when I was standing on his doorstep asking to come in, and what an ass he had been. A part of me wants to ask, "Why?" but I decide to not give in to my petty impulse.
I step back and usher him in. He takes a step but then stops short of entering.
"I don't want to get your carpet wet," he explains.
"Oh, right, yeah - hold on a minute. I'm only subletting this place and I'd hate to mess up her carpet," I say as I rush into the bathroom and grab a couple towels. Throwing two on the ground, and handing another to Ian, he comes in and I shut the door.
Inside he takes off his boots, and jacket, and places them on one of the towels. He uses the one in his hands to dry off - rubbing it over his head, chest, and even trying to get some water off of his jeans. Watching him immediately turns me on. His clothes are clinging to him, and his muscles are bulging as he bends and flexes.
But chasing the desire comes a wave of depression and tears fill my eyes. I don't want him to see them, so I pivot on my spot, facing away from him.
After a moment, he stops moving and we stand in silence again. I breathe deeply, trying to get my emotions under control and blinking the tears out of my eyes.
"Kel," he says and I feel as if there's a cord connected to my navel and with just a word, he's able to tug me towards him.
I turn to face him and slowly raise my eyes to his. I have so many emotions vying for dominance - anger, joy, sadness, indignation, curiosity. He too seems to be experiencing a bevy of emotions but I'm too distraught to read them.
A shiver runs through him and I suddenly snap to, the hostess in me taking over.
"You must be freezing! Here, come in. I'm sure I have some sweats that will fit you, hold on a minute. Oh, and tea, I can make you some tea - warm you up," I say and fly down the hall to my bedroom. Throwing open the closet, I take out a large t-shirt I got volunteering for something or other, and turn to my dresser to get a pair of sweats. They'll be women's, but I don't think he'll mind. Luckily given my ample hips and thighs, they should fit alright.
As I turn to open the drawer, I bump into Ian, who has followed me from the living room.
"Oh," I say, shocked at touching him. I instinctively take a step back and he grabs my arm to stop me.
"Kel," he says again in a gentle voice.
I'm still not ready to deal with him being here, so I pull my arm from his grasp and grab some pants from the drawer. Backing away, I hold out the pants and tee in front of me. "Here, put these on. I'll go start some water for tea." As soon as he reaches for the clothes, I dash from the room.
By the time I reach the kitchen, I'm hyperventilating and despite my best attempts, tears are streaming down my face. He finds me bent over the counter a couple minutes later. I never managed to get the water on the stove.
"Kel," he says for a third time, walking up behind me and putting his hands on my shoulders.
I lose it.
Spinning, I throw myself into his arms, sobbing against his chest and clinging to the sides of his shirt. I don't hold anything back and bawl unabashedly. The weeks of missing him come pouring out in a torrent of tears and wails. He holds me tightly, and soon his own chest seems to be heaving.
I finally quiet, and look into his eyes. Yes, he had been crying, too.
Without speaking he raises his hands to cup my face and ever so slowly, lowers his head to kiss me.
The touch of his lips is gentle, questioning. They are soft but slightly cool and I push up into him, trying to warm them with my own. This causes him to inhale, and then cautiously, he opens his mouth and begins to tenderly trace the seam of my lips with his tongue.
The touch of his tongue on me ignites my body and causes all thoughts to cease. My arms wind around his neck and I pull my body as closely into his as possible. My mouth opens and his tongue immediately seeks mine. Stroking and twisting, we deepen the kiss until neither one of us can breathe.
I pull back and he sweeps me up in his arms, striding purposefully towards the bedroom. I've never been carried like this and it feels like something from a romance novel, not my life. Sensing the disconnect between reality and this moment, my brain sputters to life.
"Ian -" I begin, wanting to slow things down, wanting to understand why he's here and what is happening.
"Shhh," he says, shaking his head and placing me on the bed. He quickly takes off the tee before his large body covers mine and he recaptures my mouth in a kiss made more intense by our full body contact.