Chasing Her (Dark Love 3)

I give her my full attention, and I know taking the next step will be wrong. I will maybe satisfy myself sexually, but for once, I know the consequences and don’t need another Band-Aid to fix the problem temporarily.

“I need to go. I’m sorry, Nyree.”

She covers herself with a cushion. Ha! So that’s what they are used for.

“Is she worth it?” she asks.

I think about my answer. “She’s worth it. She just belongs to someone else. Always will.”

***

It’s two in the morning, and I’m wide awake. Tonight didn’t go how I planned, and throwing fuel into the fire, my feelings surface, and now it’s all I can think about. Whichever way I turn, I’m torn. The selfish side of me refuses to ignore the feelings extending more than just friendship. Yet across the pond, inside my restless brain, the rational side of me is begging for my thoughts to clear and understand the magnitude of desiring someone unattainable.

There’s unattainable, and then there’s Adriana.

The next day, I still haven’t heard from her. I chose to remain quiet, busying myself with some freelance work I managed to pick up. It isn’t the greatest of income, but my bank account looks the healthiest it has in a long time.

As the afternoon rolls around, Hazel suggests we feed the animals, something I find very therapeutic. We talk a lot about life, her husband, and son. Hazel is fascinated with my time abroad, wanting to know more about my life before coming here. The more I speak, the more I realize how much my life has changed. The old Julian had no hesitation jumping on a plane, traveling to remote areas of the world desperate for a journalistic insight into third-world poverty. On reflection, I’d barely stayed in one location for any length of time until I reached New York. The stability of a full-time position plus freelance work for the New York Times brought on more problems than I ever cared to admit.

The second I stopped moving, all my addictions began.

“I’m scared, Hazel,” I say while patting Cletus, Hazel’s California Vaquero, known to be the wild horse on the farm. “This is the longest time since my time in New York, I have been stationed in one spot.”

“Is this where you see yourself settling one day?”

“No, LA was an escape. From the moment I left college, all I wanted to do was travel. And I did, I loved every minute of it, but then I almost talked myself into leaving that life behind.”

“Wanderlust.” She smiles, placing her hand on my arm. “It’s embedded in you.”

“How do I know? What if it’s not embedded but a coping mechanism?”

“My dear, I think deep inside the emotional drive behind your travels far outweighs your doubt. You’ve helped people all over the world. You’ve raised attention to villages with no fresh water, children being born into slavery. Your heart is purer than you care to admit, and right now, much like Cletus, something has spooked you.”

I turn to face Hazel, half expecting to see a crystal ball in her hand. She sees things people have not seen yet for themselves.

“It’s getting late,” I tell her, letting out a long-winded sigh. “How about I cook dinner tonight?”

She laces her arm into mine as we begin to walk back. “I’d love that.”

Feeding off our earlier conversation regarding my time abroad, I make a dish I enjoyed in Tanzania—pilau. Hazel devoured the meal, praising me on my cooking skills. With the remains, she places it in a container and announces she’s heading to Miles’ house knowing he’ll enjoy the meal too.

Alone, with my thoughts and still no response, I decide to make good and not allow the silence between us to create any animosity or unwanted attention.

Me: I’ve been thinking about you and dating. I feel bad that you probably suck at it so I’m taking you on a date tomorrow but it’s not an official date. More like a date practice run with no happy ending—yes, I had to go there. Show me what you got.

I throw my cell on my pillow, hoping she’ll respond and welcome the idea but notice the time is after midnight. The topic of ‘dating’ is obviously a sore point for Adriana with a valid reason attached. She made it clear—Elijah has been her first everything. And with that said, her fear is with merit.

Against my pillow, the cell lights up.

Adriana: Thanks for telling me I suck, which I do. I have absolutely no comment on your happy ending comment which is odd since I always have a comeback on everything, right? Ok, you’re on Baker. I’ll wear my date outfit, or shall I call it slutty black dress and I’ll even shave my legs!

I can’t contain the smile on my face, glad she isn’t offended by my text.

Me: Why on earth are you awake? Should I shave my legs too? I actually did shave my legs… well, more like trimmed them. Years of playing basketball. Eric has on more than one occasion complimented my trimming skills.

Adriana: Yeah ok, go for it again. But don’t tell me what else you’re gonna shave cause that’s TMI. Insomnia’s a bitch.

We agree to meet at a little French restaurant tomorrow night at seven. Adriana says she’ll see if she can get a sitter, but then says Eric owes her a favor for using all her hairspray the last time he was over.