“I said, ‘I’m going to try and bottle up your scent and sell it,’” she confirmed what I thought I heard the first time. “I think that you must have some distinct scent that drives guys wild . . . like eau de purity or virtuous body splash.” I laughed so hard I snorted. Where in the world did she get this shit? She continued, “I mean seriously, Ash acts like a jealous, possessive Neanderthal around you and Mason dedicated a fucking mini-concert to you in front of a bar full of people not two hours after y’all met. There’s got to be some virginity scent that you have and we need to figure out how to bottle it up and market it. We’re going to make a fortune on Essence de Scarlett.” By this point, she couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. We both died in a heap of giggles. When I finally stopped long enough to catch my breath, I told her, “Mason sang me those songs after I gave him a blow job. Maybe it’s not my smell, but my magical mouth.”
She shook her head at me, holding her side while still cracking up. “Come on, lover lips, let’s go find you a dress. And you bet you are going to tell me all of the juicy details about last night, I’m not letting it go.” I rolled my eyes and opened the passenger door.
While we shopped, I recounted all of the previous evening’s events for her. I told her about how I had purposely tried to make Ash jealous and how Mason had known. I went into vivid detail about how completely freaking amazing Mason made me feel when his hands and lips were on me, that she was right in that it would be so much more intense than what I had experienced before solo. I had already told her the night before what exactly we had done, but she wanted play-by-play and I did my best to describe what happened.
It was when I got to the part of the story when Ash dragged me out of the warehouse that I admitted to her he kissed me when we had first gone outside. She and Mina had come outside a few minutes after us, to check on me, but she had missed the beginning of our confrontation.
“So do you feel different when you kiss Ash and when you kiss Mason?” she asked curiously.
“Yes, definitely, but I’m not sure how to describe it.” I thought about it for a minute, trying to find the best way to verbalize it. “With all three of them it’s different . . . With Dylan, I feel comfortable. We have a lot in common so we always have something to talk about, but we never really talk about anything of substance or meaning. We are both easy going, so we don’t argue or bicker. And when he kisses me, it’s . . . nice. Even when it’s supposed to be more than nice, harder than nice, it’s always just nice.
“With Mason, obviously I just have last night to go off of, but he made me feel wanted . . . desired . . . needed. When he kissed me, it was like his body craved mine and he wanted to consume me. Of course, he has the whole tattooed, bad boy image thing going which just enhances the excitement of it all. But even when we were just hanging out, my body constantly hummed in anticipation, wanting him to touch me, to kiss me . . . I mean, we got along great during the few moments that we weren’t all over each other! He’s like a little kid, he’s just playful and free-spirited, but I can see how it can come off as obnoxious to some people. I like it though . . . he’s definitely the spice in my life.”
“So he’s already ‘in your life?’” Evie questioned my choice of words.
“I guess so since we are going out to dinner and the warehouse next Friday,” I responded, feeling my body temperature rise as the memory of kissing Mason lingered in my head.
“Well, your calendar is filling up nicely, isn’t it, Miss I-date-every-kind-of-book-boyfriend possible?”
“Jealous much?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” she grinned slyly at me. “Now tell me what I don’t already know about your precious Ash, other than how proud I was of you for telling him ‘no’ earlier.”
Without hesitation, I answered, “When Ash and I are together, he makes me feel cherished and coveted, like I’m the most treasured thing on the Earth. I’ve already told you numerous times that there’s just something that’s completely unexplainable that draws me to him. What is the saying ‘like a moth to the flame?’ That’s how I feel with him. Despite what he says, I know he’s a selfish asshole that wants to be able to have his fun with whoever, whenever, while I sit at home and pine after him. He tells me to go out and live, to experience life, yada yada yada, but he doesn’t really want me to meet anyone, and I basically told him last night that I wasn’t going to do that. I told him if we were going to be friends, like he wanted, then he wasn’t going to be able to act the way he did. I thought everything was cool, and we were going to pick back up the way we had been, but then he showed up at the apartment this morning and things got all awkward again.” I had started whining toward the end of my rant.
“Oh Scarlett, look at this dress,” Evie held up a beautiful charcoal gray dress.
“Do they have it in a four?” I asked hopefully.
She handed me one of the dresses and pointed me in the direction of the dressing rooms. At first I wondered if she was going to acknowledge any of the things that I had just said about not just Ash, but the whole situation, but just when I was about to say something she began talking as she followed me into one of the changing stalls. “I think you should just keep doing what you are doing. You know, you are just meeting people and getting to know them. You don’t have to find your future husband your freshman year in college, Scarlett. It’s not like you’re screwing a different guy each week, it’s okay to date different people.”
I discarded my jeans and t-shirt in a pile on the floor and slipped the slinky number over my head. “I know, but it’s just kind of overwhelming all at once. I’m just so damn confused. Uggghhh!” I grunted in frustration, but as I turned around to the mirror I froze mid-complaint. Wow. I even shocked myself at the image that stared back at me in the mirror. I had never worn a dress that fitted and accentuated my body like this one. It was rather simple in design—sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline and a hem that hit several inches above my knee. The gray material had a subtle shimmer threaded throughout that sparkled in the light when positioned in a certain way. It hugged my body without being overly tight and displayed the perfect amount of cleavage and leg.
“Perfect.” Evie and I said at the same time. We locked eyes in the mirror and gave each other a knowing smile.
“Just relax and enjoy, Sam.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “I am so proud of you and how well you are adjusting to all of this. It’s not all going to be easy. You’re going to get your heart broken and you are going to break hearts, that’s all just part of it. The same goes for me, ya know? The good news is we have each other to get through it all, and hopefully when it’s all said and done, we both will get our fairy tale ending.” My eyes filled with tears, touched by her words. I turned to her and hugged her tightly. “I love you, Evie. Thank you for everything.”
“I love you too, but we need to get you home and get you ready for your big date. The nice boy will be there soon to get you.”
I quickly changed back into my clothes, paid for the dress, and we headed back to campus.
Several hours later, Evie was putting the finishing touches on my makeup when Dylan knocked at the door. I stole one last look in the bathroom mirror and found Evie’s eyes staring at me in the reflection. “You look gorgeous, Sam. Have fun and remember to give it a chance.” She kissed my cheek and then turned to go let Dylan in. I took a deep breath, gave myself a mental pep talk, and followed her path.
Seeing Dylan dressed in gray slacks with a blue button down dress shirt and gray tie stopped me dead in my tracks. He had never looked so handsome. His natural, borderline ridiculous good looks draped in his GQ ensemble was nearly too much; I almost had to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming. Did he seriously wear a gray tie?
Quickly I pulled my thoughts away from where they were headed and I continued toward him. He immediately pulled me into his arms and kissed the skin directly under my ear. “You are breathtaking,” he whispered. I moaned ever so lightly when his lips to
uched my earlobe. I had recently (like the night before) learned that my earlobe was a trigger spot for me. His lips traveled to find mine and they caressed my mouth softly.
Evie cleared her throat reminding us she was still in the room and we both jerked away from each other. “Well, don’t you two look gorgeous?” She smirked at our guilty reaction. “Y’all have a great time and don’t forget I won’t be home tonight. I will see you tomorrow Scarlett, and it was great seeing you as always, Dylan.”
“Bye, Evie,” we replied in unison. Dylan then grabbed my hand and led me out to his car.
Once we were buckled in and the car was started, Dylan leaned across the middle console and kissed my cheek. “I think you’re really going to like what I have planned.” I could see the excitement in his eyes and couldn’t help but join him in his ear–to-ear grin. I decided to follow Evie’s advice and give this thing with Dylan a chance. I had obviously been wrong in ever thinking that Ash was my soul mate, if I even believed in that sort of thing. Despite the mishap the previous night, he truly was my best friend other than Evie and I began to think that the immediate connection we had felt to one another was just that—we were meant to be close friends. And Mason, well I knew as well as anyone, that someone like him wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. And while he would be fun to hang out with and experiment with sexually, he would most likely exit my life as quickly as he had entered it, so I was just going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasted. However, I was certain that I didn’t want to lose my virginity to him; I wanted to at least be in an exclusive relationship with whoever the unlucky fellow was, and since that wasn’t ever happening with him, it was an easy decision for me. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t do other things . . .
“Scarlett, did you hear me?” Dylan’s voice interrupted my dirty thoughts about Mason. Okay, what the hell, I was acting like a 16 year old boy. I couldn’t stop thinking about sex!! And not even with the same guy!! Get a grip! Catch your snaps! Put on a fucking chastity belt! Do something!
“Uh, no, sorry I was just thinking about how exciting this is,” I replied. “You know, being my first time to go on a fancy date like this and all.” I waved my hand in the air pointing at our out-of-the-ordinary clothes.
He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “I love that I get to be the one to take you. Now let’s go eat the best steak you’ve ever had in your life.”
“Mmmm . . . that sounds wonderful.”
Dylan and I got back to my place just before midnight, having shared a wonderful evening out. We had eaten dinner at Vic and Anthony’s Steakhouse downtown, where I had by far, the most amazing meal of my life. The filet melted in my mouth like butter and I moaned in delight as the first bite hit my taste buds. The side dishes and dessert were just as delicious as the main course, and I proceeded to stuff myself not caring one bit about the thousands of calories I was consuming. Dylan appreciated my enthusiasm about dinner and rewarded me with his gorgeous smile throughout the entire meal. He truly was beautiful, his features were perfectly proportionate and symmetrical. I decided that I could never get tired of looking at him. Sigh.
After dinner, he took me to see Peter Pan at the Houston Ballet, and I was in heaven. Watching the dancers made me realize how much I missed dancing myself. I had spent fourteen years of my life in ballet and jazz classes, hours upon hours rehearsing for recitals and competitions, only to stop cold turkey. Around the time of my graduation the previous June, my studio had closed for the summer as it always had, but at the time I had failed to realize that I would never be back there. Since moving to Houston, I had been so busy with school, I hadn’t thought much about it, but a yearning to continue my training developed as I watched the performance. I made a mental note to look up studios close to campus so that I could enroll in an adult class. Dylan couldn’t have planned a more perfect evening for me, and I was feeling better about rethinking a possible relationship with him. He was always so thoughtful and considerate.
“Have you listened to the new Mumford & Sons album?” he asked as he changed the song on his iPod playing through the car stereo.
“Yeah, I love it. I’ve been learning how to play a couple of the songs,” I responded. I figured it was best not to mention that Ash and I had been learning them together over the past several weeks. We had found that we harmonized well together and had pretty much perfected about half of the album. The magnetic draw that I felt toward Ash was never more prominent than when we played guitar and sang together in his room, and I cherished those moments that we spent together like no others. It was the one thing that I shared with him that none of his other girls did.
“Really? That’s awesome. I love it too,” he said as he reached with his free hand to hold mine. “I would love to hear some of them once you’ve got them down.” I nodded in agreement.
Dylan walked me to my door, which felt a little odd since we normally went to the shindig after our dinner dates and said our goodbyes at the end of the night there. When what began as a sweet goodnight kiss turned into a more passionate make out session against my door, I asked him if he wanted to come in for a while since Evie would be out the rest of the night. Several people had already snickered as they had passed us in the hall and I wasn’t quite ready for exhibitionism. Despite his panting against my neck and his hard on pressed against my lower belly which indicated that he was just as turned on as I was, he declined. “Scarlett, I’m not sure that I would be able to stop myself once we got started if I followed you in there. I don’t think it’s a very good idea.” He kissed me gently on the tip of my nose and took a step back.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?” I was breathing heavily and still had my back pressed against the door. I searched his eyes for answers to the mixed signals he was constantly sending.
“Scarlett . . .” his voice faded off and he looked away. “I just can’t. Not now, it’s not right for you.”
“Don’t I get to decide what’s right for me?” I was almost whining at this point, but damn it, what was the problem? “What’s really going on, Dylan? I swear, sometimes I don’t understand you at all. You know I really don’t want to have this conversation out here. Can we at least go inside to talk without an audience?”
He looked down at his phone and then back up at me. “I can’t, I’m really sorry, Scarlett.”
“What? Do you have another date tonight or something? Why are you acting so damn weird all of a sudden?” I tried hard not to raise my voice, but the hurt from the rejection of my invitation and the confusion about why the hell he was checking his phone at the end of our date won out. “You know what, just go. Whatever. Wow. What an awful way to end what was the perfect first date; I sure won’t forget it now.” I spun on my heel to open my door, vowing not to let him see my cry.
“Scarlett, wait . . .” he said as he reached for my shoulder.
I shrugged out of his grasp as the door unlocked and opened. I turned and looked in his dark sapphire eyes. “Dylan, up until ten minutes ago, I had an amazing evening, thank you so much for dinner and the ballet. However, until you are ready to tell me why it is we only see each other on Saturdays, why every time things start to heat up between us you stop it, and why you are acting like you are running late for something while dropping me off after a date, which by the way is incredibly rude—I’m sorry I kept you for so long from whatever else or whomever else it is you need to attend to, I don’t really think we have much to talk about.” I turned from him, walked into my apartment, and allowed the door to close in his face. It was then that I allowed the tears to flow freely. Stupid nice boys.
After a scalding hot shower, I changed into my usual cami and panties sleeping ensemble and went to the kitchenette in search of alcohol. My mind was consumed with thoughts of Dylan and I couldn’t stop thinking about how things had gone from so great to so bad in a matter of minutes. Every so often, an image of Ash or Mason would float by, only adding to my confusion. Did I really have any right to get angry at Dylan for hidi
ng things when I wasn’t exactly forthcoming about what I had done just the night before? I hoped we had some wine or something that would help me calm down and get some sleep. The chime of my phone indicating I had a text message rang out just as I located a bottle of wine in the fridge. I quickly poured a glass and then hurried into my room, hopeful that it was Dylan wanting to apologize. It wasn’t.
Ash (12:42 am): Where are you? Why aren’t you at Jacob’s?
I had forgotten to text him to let him know I wasn’t going to be there. I responded quickly so he wouldn’t think something had happened to me.
Me (12:45 am): I’m at home. Sorry, forgot to tell you I wasn’t coming.
Ash (12:46 am): Dylan?
Me (12:46 am): We went out on a date tonight. He just dropped me off.
Ash (12:47am): Evie?
Me (12:47 am): Out with Max
Ash (12:51 am): So you’re alone?
Me (12:52 am): Yep, getting ready for bed
Ash (12:55 am): I’m not going to be able to sleep without you tonight.
Me (12:56 am): You sleep the other 6 nights a week without me. You’ll be fine
I didn’t hear back from him after that last text, and I wasn’t sure if I had pissed him off, but I really couldn’t worry my poor brain with another issue at that time, I was already stressed over everything that had happened with Dylan. I would smooth everything over the following day. I downed the glass of wine and went to the kitchen to pour a second. Just as I was returning the bottle to the fridge, someone knocked on the door. The sound startled me and I wondered who in the world could possibly be at my door at 1:00 in the morning that wouldn’t have called before showing up. I hurried to the door, opening it only far enough that I could see who it was, and making sure my non-dressed body was hidden behind it.