Logan excused himself to use the lavatory. I half expected Ethan to come over and try talking to me again. I was half-disappointed he didn’t. He had the attention of some girl who was too young for him. She looked more like a slut than the one he kicked out. I guess I knew what or who he was doing that night.
“Hey babe,” Logan whispered in my ear as he scooted into the booth beside me. I didn’t know if it was the fact that he had invaded my space or if he used the name babe. I hadn’t been called that name since Ethan left me a year ago.
I scrunched against the wall and started eating on my salad. Hoping, he would get the idea. He didn’t. He slipped his arm around my waist and tugged me back against him. He reached up to my face and turned it, then kissed me. I waited to pull away. I wanted Ethan to see me at that moment and, maybe just maybe, have a small pain of jealousy. Logan started to kiss down my neck. Thankfully, the numbness started. I welcomed his lips. They distanced me from the thought of being in the same room as Ethan.
I reached up to run my fingers in Logan’s hair when I heard a manly cough come from the other side of the room. My arms fell to my side. I immediately shoved Logan off me and glanced over to Ethan. He had his elbows resting on the table, watching us.
“Dylan, you’re distracted.” Logan looked over at Ethan. “Maybe we can go out on a real date some other time.”
I nodded. “I’m just not feeling good.” I tried to bat my lashes and smiled. “Ethan, I would be honored to go out sometime.”
Logan stood up and threw a fifty on the table. “That’s great, but I’m Logan.” He turned and glared back at Ethan.
“Logan, wait.” I yelled at him, but he was gone. I slumped in my seat and looked over at Ethan. He had the full attention of the little, blonde waitress. She brushed her fingers repeatedly through her hair and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, making sure her hip would rub against Ethan’s arm.
How could he make me feel things I had never felt before? Hell, Logan had his lips on me, but it was the S.O.B. across the room that sent my heart racing. I pushed the plate across the table and got up. He never looked at me as I walked right by him, and left.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
“Dylan, wake up.” Sarah hollered down the hall. I rubbed my eyes that were reluctant to open. “Some guy is here for you.” She swung around the open door. I glanced at the clock; it was only eight o’clock in the morning. Of course, she woke up looking like she stepped off a runway. I, on the other hand, looked like I had been run over.
“What?” I uttered, still half asleep.
“Get up, you have to see this guy.” She bounced from foot to foot excitedly. I climbed out of bed and scratched my fingers through the nest I called hair.
“Do you know him?” Ethan instantly came to my mind. Sarah shook her head. Yeah, he’s probably with that waitress or any other list of women. I clambered out of bed and followed a bubbly Sarah. I stalled. Ethan stood in my living room. Sarah offered him a cup of coffee, then it dawned on me, she had never met Ethan.
“Dylan,” He said and winked. “Please, Privy, talk to me.” He reached his hand out for mine. I wanted to push him away, but I was paralyzed. No matter how much he made me hurt by leaving; it felt right having my hand in his.
“There is nothing to talk about.” I smiled. I should’ve been furious, but found myself giddy and unable to suppress a face-splitting smile. Ethan was back and for some reason having him around made everything else fade away.
“I have so much to tell you.’ He gently pulled me into his arms, burying his nose in my jacked-up hair, and nipped at my ear. “Please give me an hour, let me explain.”
I could do that. What’s an hour, especially when I am with Ethan? Tears threatened. My subconscious nodded in agreement. I would give him an hour or two. Taking a deep breath, I finally spoke. “Let me change and we can go grab a cup of coffee.”
He glanced hard at me; his dark and brooding eyes never left my face. He didn’t smile. His fingers grazed over my cheek, wiping away a tear that had dwindled down my face. “I didn’t leave you. I left to protect someone that is very special to me.” He cradled my face in his hands. “Get ready, Privy, and we will go where ever.”
“This is not a date. We’re just talking,” I blurted out.
“Whatever.” He gripped my hand like he was scared he would lose me. However, I was the one terrified I’d never hold his hand again. No one had ever touched me the way that Ethan did. He raised my hand to kiss it.
“Dylan,” he said. My eyes looked up at him. He gasped. There was a primal quality to his stare. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed he wanted me as much as I craved him. “Privy, last night, when you left, it killed me to let you go.”
“You never noticed me leaving.”
“Oh, yes, I did. It was eight thirty-eight some girl, and I use that word loosely, was talking to me. I couldn’t look at you and watch you leave. I wanted to beat that boy to a pulp . . . I looked for you. I’ve been back about three months, and I’ve looked everywhere.” His hands cupped my head, squashing my face between them. “You moved. You never came back to the Pizza House. I went to the college. It was as if my beautiful Dylan had vanished.”
“Huh?”
“I had to leave. Someone who is very important to me was in danger. I had to keep her safe.” He took the two steps that closed the gap between us. His eyes devoured me. My heart sunk. I licked the corner of my lips as my mouth went dry.
Her, not him or my mom or even an aunt, but a her. Was she still in his life? “Who is she?”
“You,” he forcibly whispered in my ear. He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms painfully around me. “You’re all that matters. I’m not leaving. Not today, tomorrow, or next year, my Privy.”
“Why do you call me Privy?”
“Privy is short for pretty. Which I agree you are more than pretty. It also means having knowledge of something, having an interest in something. You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted privy to my life.”
We walked three blocks to The Third Place, the most talked-about coffee shop in Knoxville. I had never been myself. With the higher rent, I barely had money for instant coffee, but Sarah loved it. She said the peppermint cappuccino was to die for. I idly chattered the whole way there and couldn’t tell you a thing I said. Him never letting go of my hand was seared upon ever nerve ending in my body. He looked at me as if I was an oasis in the depths of the desert, and he was dying of thirst. The little inner voice deep inside of me started mumbling, reminding me how it felt when I found that letter the day after our last night together. The day after day, I spent looking for him. I bit my tongue. I wouldn’t let Ethan affect me like that again. No matter how many times my mind said, ‘yeah, right.’ He started stroking his fingers across my shoulder.
“I’m not leaving. I know I handled it all wrong last year, but you’re not the only one that missed us.” He tipped my chin up forcing me to look at him. “I feel it too. The pull. That undeniable force drawing us together. I felt it last year, and every day since.”
My knees shook, my stomach leaped in my throat. How did he know my feelings? More hearing him repeat them as if they were his own almost hurt. “Ethan, what makes you say those things.” I struggled to maintain a composed face, so I gazed off to the other patrons. It was then when I noticed that I was not the only one who crumbled at his feet. They all were focused on Ethan. He had a draw about him for sure, and I was not the only one who noticed. My jealousy surfaced. He was with me.
“Find a seat, Privy. Let me get our drinks, and then we will talk more.” He smiled.
I found a table in the center of the cafe, wanting everyone to see he was with me, and watched him. I could’ve watched him all day. He moved with unbelievable confidence. He was aware of every inch of his body and knew exactly how to move it. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair and our eyes met. He winked and smiled. My face flamed. I glanced down at my fingers that were ro
lling a straw wrapper around.
“Privy?” He glided the tray across the table, startling me. I managed to smile up at him. He pulled a chair close to me and straddled it. I envied the way he was so at ease with himself. “Talk to me.”
I reached for the mug and started swirling around the whip-topping when I realized it was the peppermint cappuccino. I raised an eyebrow.
“What? Isn’t that what you wanted? You rattled on about it for five minutes.”
I nodded, smiled, and took a gulp. It was delicious.
“Dylan, I know you don’t trust me, and I understand. I’ll earn it.” He concentrated as his long fingers slowly peeled back a banana. “I tried to find you. I did leave to protect someone so very special. But in doing so I saved myself too.”
My head popped up. “What are you talking about?”
“I realized what a mess I had become. If you could pop it, I was addicted to it. I spent six months in rehab, fighting to get back to you every day. I wrote you a letter. I guess you didn’t get it because of the move.”
“You’re clean now?” Oh, Ethan, I’ve lived with a drug-addicted mom. I won’t go back there. He’s clean, Dylan. Give him the benefit, he’s clean now, and he wrote you a letter.
“Yeah, it feels good to finally feel without the haze of drugs. When I saw you last night, I got my first real high. The high of being in the room with the girl I can’t stop thinking about. I followed you home. I wasn’t going to lose you again.”
“I’m glad you found me.” I bit my lip and glanced down at the froth on my drink.
He cocked his head, and looked quizzically at me. “Is the boy last night special?”
“No, he’s my lab partner.” I started crumbling a strawberry muffin on my plate. “Do you have someone special?” I looked up at him.
“You.” He held my gaze. I wanted to look away, but my body sensed his unspoken command and was unwilling to deny him. “I know I’m being too forward. But beautiful, I know what I’m feeling. I won’t play games and risk losing you again.”
What more was left to say? He said what so heavily hung over us. He wanted me, and I surely wanted him. I took a bite out of my muffin. He matched the bite with one of his own. We smiled. He started to copy each bite of muffin and sip of coffee I took. I was laughing and at total peace when a redhead came up and placed her hand on his shoulder. Ethan didn’t look up at her, but held up a finger signaling he would be right back. He followed her outside. I had a clear view of them out the glass door. He nodded his head numerous times and then hugged her. My heart stopped for a second. I snuck out the back door.
I thought nothing would ever hurt me again after what those animals did to me. I was wrong. Hearing him tell me the very words I prayed I would hear hundreds of times over the last year, then seeing him walking away and into her arms cut me. For the life of me, I never understood the irrational feelings I had for Ethan. How he could walk into my life and make me forget everything but him. Heartsick, I wrapped my arms around me trying to hold off the cold creeping in my heart. I already missed him. Ethan had been playful and charming. It was the first time in months that I could remember laughing. My eyes stung with tears, a few even escaped and fell down my cheeks. I kicked a lamppost, unable to get the image of Ethan in her arms out of my head. I felt physically sick thinking about the long line of women he probably used the same lines on that I so easily believed.
I felt a hand on my arm and was suddenly being hauled against a body. It was Ethan. He embraced me. The muscles in his stomach twitched along my back. “Dylan, thank Heaven. When I saw you gone . . .”
“Why do you care?” I tried pulling away, but his grip got tighter. “You really do have a thing for gingers.” My body stopped wiggling as his hand clasped my arm.
“The only ginger I give a damn about is you. You’re the only girl I care about period.” He harshly kissed my cheek and whispered. “That was my brother’s girl.”
I melted into him, not able to take the pain in his voice. No matter how much he had hurt me by leaving the year before, I couldn’t stand the thought of doing it to him. “A simple, hey this is Dylan would suffice.”
“Oh, no, Privy, I don’t want her anywhere near you. I sure didn’t want her knowing your name.” He shivered and placed his face in the nook of my neck. Pressing a kiss against my skin, he inhaled deeply.
He didn’t even know about my past and could still sense I was not the girl you brought home to mommy.
“It’s not you, it’s them. I hope they never get the privilege of ever meeting you. Come home with me.” He lit a cigarette and blew out a thick pillow of smoke. His tension was palpable.
I gasped and stared in horror when I saw him climb into a rusted out 1967 Chevrolet Camaro. Saying it was dilapidate would have been kind to the car. Ethan was not the type of guy I envisioned driving a piece of crap. He had to sense my hesitation because he popped out of the car and smiled, a slow, heart-stopping smile, at me over the hood. Tapping the roof, he said, “Hey, I love this thing. It’s a classic.”
Shaking my head, I smiled and pulled a little too hard on the loose door handle causing me to fall flat on my back.
Ethan was at my side instantly. “Privy, are you okay?”
I nodded. My pride was a little bruised, but my behind was intact. He jerked my hand and had me in his arms.
“Glad you didn’t hurt the car. It’s the love of my life.” He laughed as I punched him in the arm. “What? It’s the only girl in my life who doesn’t gripe.”
“I haven’t griped at you, yet, but don’t push your luck. I could start any moment.” I bit my lip, trying to keep from smiling. It didn’t help. Around him, my lips were glued into an everlasting smile.
“So you agree, you’re in my life?” He set his chin on the crown of my head and grew somber. “Give me hell, babe. I want all you can dish out. Shit, I want you with me, on your best days, on your not-so-best days, even when you give me hell.”
I pushed my hands under the back of his shirt and caressed the softness of his skin. I never felt more whole than I did when I was with him. His touch, his smell, healed me. I laid my head on his chest and savored the feel of his hand in my hair.
Ethan drove for hours around town listening to me point out and explain every aspect of my life in Knoxville. As much interest as he showed in my life there, to my relief, he never once asked me about my life as a child.
“Ready to see a little of my world?” Ethan asked as he passed by his office building. He pointed to the top floor and the third window from the corner. “That is my office right there.”
All the memories I had of my trips to the district attorney’s office came flooding back. I clutched Ethan’s hand, trying not to freak out with one of my many flashbacks.
“Ethan, I thought you were taking me to your house.” I said, wanting to move on from our trip down memory lane.
Ethan Asher’s home was in West Hills the nicest neighborhood in Knox County. His house oozed of masculinity and beauty, like Ethan himself. It was evident upon walking into the home that Ethan was a guy with a whole heap of style. He had filled his main living room with fun, modern furniture, and of course, hung on three walls were stunning paintings of vintage cars. The fourth wall stood in contrast, covered in reclaimed barn wood and a soaring stone fireplace. Over the fireplace was a painting of Paul Chenavard’s Dante's Inferno.
I picked up the lone picture in the room. It was of a beautiful older lady; she had blond hair. I couldn’t see her eyes because of her dark sunglasses. I didn’t trust people who hid their eyes. Ethan pressed his lips onto my neck. “My mom, the only other lady who’s been here. Even my housekeeper is male.”