It wasn’t a question, more like a statement. And then motioning between him and me, he added, “Because this isn’t finished.”
At that moment I realized that what had started as harmless flirting had turned into a situation that had gotten way too dangerous for me; it was bordering on trouble.
He placed his hands on the bar, surrounding me in his arms again, but not touching me, and waited for a response. Since he hadn’t really asked a question that I wanted to answer, I just smiled and said, “If you’re in the band you’d better go, you shouldn’t leave your fans waiting.”
He took that as a response, or maybe he didn’t, since he wasn’t really looking for one. Maybe he was just in a hurry. But either way, he gave me one last heart-stopping grin and then leaned in and kissed me. My body reacted strangely to his kiss. A rush of something I couldn’t identify surged through me. At first he only lightly touched my lips with his then for a few short seconds he pressed a little harder before pulling away. I didn’t kiss him back, but I was completely lost in the moment.
“I hope you’ve become a fan,” he said, winking at me before grabbing his hat. Then he turned and walked away.
I brought my fingers to the place he had just kissed and watched as his silhouette walked away; taking in the sway that had captivated me from the moment I laid eyes on him. I became vaguely aware of the music being piped through the sound system. The song Superstition was being played overhead, but I wasn’t really listening to it because my mind was on him.
I shook my head, trying to rid the thoughts that should not be in there. I knew I had to leave, or I would end up doing something that I would regret. I had to leave for two reasons. First, I loved Ben, and second, Ben would f**king kill River just for looking at me the way he did. And then there was the kiss; yes, Ben would do more than kill him.
Knowing these things, I wondered why I hadn’t walked away in the first place. For a moment there, I felt as though I believed in love at first sight, which I didn’t. And how could love at first sight even exist when you were already in love with someone else? I didn’t want to analyze the events of tonight because I was confused as hell, and the answers would not be what I wanted to hear.
I smiled about my exchange with this enamoring stranger. He definitely was not a stalker. He was a guy that was adorably charming and utterly charismatic, a guy who had a simple ease about him that I really liked, and a guy I didn’t ever need to see again. This I knew for certain because our complete awareness of each other scared the shit out of me, and his touch did something to me. It made me afraid that the danger would win out, and I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had a boyfriend that I loved, and he was waiting for me at his house.
With thoughts of River swirling around in my head, I made my way through the crowd to the dance floor where I found Aerie with some kind of pink drink in her hand. “We have to leave. Now!” I shouted at her while pulling her off the dance floor.
“What? Why? Are you sick?” she asked, struggling for words.
Then she turned and pointed to the stage. “Because if you’re not, I want to see that hot guy sing first.”
I turned to see where she was pointing and sure enough it was at him, River, the guy who captivated me with his charm and attitude. It was then that I realized I’d never even told him my name.
Pulling Aerie through the crowd under protest, I heard the audience chanting River Wilde, River Wilde. I glanced up to the stage just in time to see him grab the microphone. Before the live music started we exited through the door, and Aerie started yelling obscenities at me. As we walked away I found myself thinking I had just met the most enchanting guy and knowing that I might never be the same.
Chapter Three
IT’S NOT MY TIME
Looking into the future I see the plans we have
And the dreams that we both share
Happiness is what we believe
But we are in a world that tries to take it away
I wish it wasn’t my time.
March 2010…
I looked in the mirror, trying to decide whether or not the pearl necklace would take the edge away from my deep V-necked black cocktail dress. The bathroom counter was covered in different necklaces, our dirty clothes were in a heap on the hamper, and dirty towels were thrown all over the floor. I smiled when I glanced up and saw Ben’s reflection in the mirror. He was leaning with his shoulder on the bathroom doorframe, a wicked grin on his face, and a wild glimmer in his piercing blue eyes.
“Pearls or no pearls?” I asked as I watched him stride toward me in the mirror. I had known him since I was five years old, but for some reason the way he looked at me then left me breathless.
Ben wrapped his tan arms around my waist and started to kiss my neck. I could feel the soft, warm skin of his freshly shaven face. “Dahl, I’d prefer nothing at all to be perfectly honest,” he muttered while he began to unzip my dress.
“Hey, we’re going to be late,” I quipped. “LA is at least an hour drive.” I tried, unsuccessfully, to wiggle out of the one arm he still had around my waist as he continued to unzip my dress with the other.
Still watching Ben in the mirror, I saw him bite his lip as he let out a little groan. “Well, it’s my party, and I can be late if I want to,” he whispered in my ear then resumed kissing my neck. Ben looked incredibly hot in his black tuxedo with slicked back hair and a clean-shaven face. I felt a slight stirring throughout my body from his close proximity, which made me decide against wriggling out of his arm. Instead, I turned around to look at him.
I was so proud of how successful Ben had become in such a short time. He landed a job at the LA Times right out of college and proved his extreme confidence and ability in only a few short years with his focus and dedication to his job. Even though the commute from Laguna was tedious at most, he didn’t mind doing it, especially since he wasn’t required to go into the office every day. My fiancé was going to be receiving California’s Journalist of the Year award at a prestigious dinner in LA for his brilliant work in underground crime investigation. I knew I wasn’t the only one full of excitement, even if I was the only one who showed it.
Ben’s lack of enthusiasm toward the honor he was receiving wasn’t like him. In fact, he hadn’t been acting like himself all week. He wasn’t acting different in a good way or a bad way—just different, and I had been trying to figure out what was driving his mood. I wasn’t sure if I should be concerned or touched by his actions. They were definitely a little strange to tell the truth. He had been sweeter than he usually was; he sent me flowers, he bought me candy, he spent every night at home with me. He had even shown up at my office every day to take me to lunch.
Ben was never the type of boyfriend to dote; he wasn’t a flowers and chocolates romantic kind of guy, and I wasn’t the kind of girl who needed that. I liked my independence and so did he. He had always taken care of me and loved me in his own way, but never in all our years together had he done the types of things he’d done that week.
Once before, he came close to acting like a doting boyfriend, but technically he wasn’t my boyfriend at the time. I’d broken up with him and because of his borderline doting then, I was always wary of this behavior from him at any time.
The event leading up to our breakup and its cause will forever be ingrained in my mind. I remember clearly the day I popped into Ben’s room at his frat house. It was the end of the first semester of our senior year at USC. I stopped by to tell him I’d finally gotten the internship I really wanted at Sound Music. I was so happy that I wasn’t going to have to intern for Drake anymore, and I knew Ben would be thrilled. He wasn’t in his room when I got there, so I sat down at his desk to send his sister, Serena, a quick email to share my news with her. I knew she’d be excited for me.
I pressed the space bar on his computer and his email account was already opened, so I figured I’d just type my quick note from there. Instead of hitting compose I accidentally clicked on the trash folder. I noticed the date October 31st, 2006 right away. As my eyes scanned the screen, the words Reply to: S’belle, later tonight, green eyes, touch, copper, and your apartment were all that registered before he came over and quickly right clicked, hitting the delete button. His presence startled me as I hadn’t heard him walk into the room. I gaped at him in astonishment that he just deleted that email so quickly in front of my eyes. I hadn’t had a chance to read the whole thing, but I knew he must have been hiding something. Was he really making plans with another girl? Plans that were not in the least bit platonic?
He admitted to emailing this girl and socializing with her but assured me nothing sexual had actually happened. In the end, he confessed that their relationship was inappropriate. He swore he would end it, and I’m sure he did; but I couldn’t trust him, so I broke up with him.
Everyday from that day forward he called me. Over the next three months, little ‘remember me’ items turned up almost daily. He was trying so hard to convince me to forgive him. He left notes on my car, flowers at my door, voice messages with profuse apologies, text messages confessing his love, he showed up anywhere he knew I would be, and he even bought me a silver-plated coffee cup with a note saying ‘To brighten up your mornings’.
It was a long, hard three-month separation. I never realized just how much I would actually miss him, but I did—a lot. So I decided to trust him and move past the dishonesty. I really did love him, and I knew he loved me. Perhaps I also felt a little guilty about my own encounter with a certain singer of a band that wasn’t exactly innocent.
So yes, the doting alarmed me, not that I didn’t appreciate his kind gestures, but it just made me think something was wrong. Was there something not right in our relationship, a relationship that already had its share of ups and downs? Maybe this behavior was just one of the ups, or maybe Ben’s sudden emergence into romance had something to do with wanting to get married since we had never talked about setting a wedding date.
The one thing I was sure about was our love and commitment to each other. We grew up together. We had been boyfriend and girlfriend since we were sixteen, and we had been engaged for two years. We may have disagreed on many things and argued more than I preferred, but we always fell back on our longevity; especially since the root of most of our disagreements stemmed from something I could not fix. Our arguments were usually the result of Ben’s jealousy or self-concern. Ben would be jealous if another man so much as looked at me, which was ironic because Ben himself was always very flirtatious. He was also self-centered. This trait was more a function of who he was; a man with drive and determined to get ahead, although sometimes I wondered at what cost.
Shaking my head, I had no idea what was going on with Ben. However, I made an effort to push aside the disconcerting thoughts and just embrace the moment.
“Today is your big day,” I said while looking into his eyes. I gave him a large happy smile full of pride for his accomplishments. I diverted my eyes from his when I said, “And your party or not, it would be rude for the main speaker to be late.” I kissed him on the lips to help soften my words. “Now zip my dress back up, and tell me what you think.”
Ben gave me his dangerous smile but didn’t move. “You can be very bitch . . . y, oh I mean boss . . . y. I think you look f**king gorgeous,” he snickered, finally turning me back around to zip my dress.
I looked at him in the mirror again as he was still grinning at me. “No, the pearls silly! Should I wear them or not?” I asked while holding them up to my neck again.
Ben’s smile faded a little as he took the pearls from my hands. “No pearls. They remind me of your grandma. Not that I didn’t love your Grammy, but I love you in a totally different way. I don’t want Grammy images popping up in my head while I’m f**king you.” He turned me back around and kissed me right on the chest where the pearl necklace would have sat, while he ran his hand up under my dress. I shivered from his contact, and his bright smile returned.
