“I think this was a mistake,” I said and pursed my lips at her. “We shouldn’t have come up here.”
“What are you talking about?” She got up off the ground and brushed off her knees, then took a step toward me. “This was your fantasy, right? You changed your mind?”
“I didn’t change my mind.” I shook my head, and wondered if my dad and Barbie had left the office yet. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea any more.”
“Why not?” she asked me, her tone confused, offended and a little angry.
“It’s just not something I want to do with you right now.”
“So you’d do it with someone else, then?” Her eyes narrowed and I tried not to smile at the hint of jealousy in her voice.
“Maybe.” I shrugged, answering her honestly. I wanted to be as honest as I could with her, even though the entire situation was so far from honest, it wasn’t even funny.
“Have you done it with someone else before?” Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at me and I could almost feel the palatable tension in her being.
“Why are we talking about this?” I asked her, annoyed. I didn’t want to think about any other women. Not now. Of course there had been other women. Inconsequential women that had meant nothing to me. Not like her. I growled out loud as that thought hit me. She didn’t mean anything to me. I mean, I liked her, cared for her, was attracted to her, liked to hear her laugh, loved to watch her smile, enjoyed smelling her scent, was addicted to the touch of her skin, soft and silky next to mine.
Yes, I felt more for her than I had the other nameless women I’d been with. But that feeling wasn’t love or anything that could give her what she craved. I just wasn’t that man. I was just bitter and jaded by life, love, and relationships, and as much as she meant to me, I just knew that ultimately I would disappoint her and it wouldn’t work out.
“I guess I’m really special, huh?” she said, her face a twisted mask of hurt and slight bitterness. “How many women have you had up on this roof before me?”
“Mila,” I said and grabbed her hands. “Please let’s not go there. We’re having fun here.”
“We are?” She grabbed her hands away from me and shook her head. I watched as she gathered up her clothes and pulled them on quickly. “Let’s just go. I want to go home.”
“Mila, I’m sorry.” I sighed, panic hitting me. What if we caught up with my dad and Barbie? “I mean, is there really any reason for me to tell you what I’ve done with other women in the past?”
“I was just curious.” She sighed too and looked away, her whole body suddenly seeming to fall as if she was accepting some sort of inevitable defeat.
“Nothing in my past matters,” I said honestly. “We shouldn’t dwell on it.”
“I’m not trying to dwell on anything. I just want to know. I just want to feel special,” she said softly, mumbling her words so that I could barely hear her. My ears strained as I tried to concentrate on her words and my heart felt a pang of guilt. I was being selfish with what I was doing. I had to let her down gently. She had to know that this wasn’t about her self-worth. I wanted more for her than this. More than me. Me and my fantasies and desires. She deserved better. Even though it killed me to think of her with someone else, smiling at someone else, touching someone else. No, I just couldn’t think of it. When our relationship was over, I’d have to banish her from my life.
“You are special, Mila. You’re the most special woman in the world.” I grabbed her arms and pulled her towards me, holding her so close to me that I could feel her heart beating next to mine.
All of a sudden the EE Cummings poem, “I Carry Your Heart with Me,” popped into my mind. I carry your heart with me, I carry it in my heart, I thought to myself as I closed my eyes and held her to me. I didn’t want to think about what that meant. It was most probably because we’d been friends for years. She’d almost been like my younger sister. Someone to protect from the harsh realities of the world and someone to tease mercilessly.
“Make love to me, TJ,” she whispered up at me urgently. “Make love to me so that we can fly.”
“You want to fly?” I asked her softly.
“If you’re the pilot, then yes.” She looked up at me with an impish smile that tugged on my heartstrings.
“I’ll be your pilot,” I growled and leaned down and kissed her hungrily. She kissed me back eagerly and laughed as I licked her lips. I laughed back at her and I could feel my mood relaxing as I realized our awkward moment was over. The tension was gone from the moment and I could feel the excitement burning through my body again.