Across the Ocean (5 page)

I
’ve been hanging out at Vör, where the girls work, waiting for Ari to come meet me and take me on a tour of downtown Reykjavík. My feet are tapping on the floor to the beat of the music playing in here and to the excitement beating in my blood.

Chimes at the door let me know
that he’s arrived and my mouth falls open slightly when I realize that he’s had a haircut. His hair is no longer almost touching his shoulders. Instead, it’s cropped fairly short and looks really great. His bangs are partially over his face, and the blue of his eyes stand out brightly against his yummy tan.

He has classed himself up a bit with a black sports jacket, blue shirt, and a pair of jeans. He
’s kind of the opposite from the last time I saw him. Before he looked very laid back; now he’s sleek and much more mature. Did he do this for me? Whatever it is, I like it…a lot.
Cue the drool cleanup crew
!

“Are you ready for your personal tour?” The
smirk he gives me reminds me instantly of the Ari I know and adore, and there’s a little flutter in my belly in response. I’ve missed this Ari.

“You know it. Lead the way.” After a wave to the girls behind their counter, we head out the door. I follow closely behind Ari, since I
’m not really sure where we are going or if I should walk next to him. He seems to think we should walk side by side, since he slows down just enough for it to happen.

We are both pretty quiet at first
as we walk down this main street called Laugavegur. It’s pretty full of tourists and natives today too, and I don’t really mind not talking so much, so that I can take in the sites of this beautiful city. Lots of shops have set out displays of their wares for the pedestrians to check out, while still enjoying the summer sun.

“There are a few different places I
’ll take you today that I think you’ll love. I think the last place is the one you’ll like the most. It’s a surprise.”

“Can
’t wait to see what it is,” I really can’t. Any surprise from Ari is bound to be good.

There
’s not a lot of space between us as we walk along the sidewalk, and every once in awhile, we end up brushing into each other in order to avoid people walking into us. I swear that I’m hyper aware of his every movement. I feel like my spidey senses are tingling, and even the smallest brush of his arm against mine makes it feel as though electricity is racing through me.

I wonder if it
’s the same for him. I hope it is. Judging by the sideways glances he gives me every time it happens, I think it is. My dark side is waking up a bit and taking notice.

******

Ari has taken me to several different places downtown. He’s very knowledgeable and explains all kinds of neat facts about the Parliament building. Most of the structures that surround this area are still the same buildings that were originally built here. Parliament is a fairly large building, put together with grey colored bricks/stones. There are several circle-top windows with white framing, causing them to stand out.

I
’ve always known he was smart, so seeing him in his element is really wonderful. We’ve been chatting and laughing almost the whole time. I think we’re easing up and relaxing a bit now that there aren’t any curious eyes on us. I had really hoped it would be like this. I’m so grateful it is.

We make a stop at a hot dog stand called Bæjarins (Bye-yar-ins) Beztu Pylsur (pill-sur), which apparently translates directly to “The town
’s best hot dog.” They’re made of different meats than your typical American hot dog. Ari asks me what I want on mine as he buys me one.

“The typical way to get one is to come up to the window here and say that you want one with everything. They will put some fried onions, Icelandic ketchup, remoulade, and a dijon-type mustard. They
’ll even put fresh onions.” I wrinkle my nose at most of those toppings, opting instead to try it with only fried onions and no sauces at all.

I grab
the hotdog from the man’s extended hand, smile sweetly at Ari in thanks for buying it for me, and take a huge bite.
Oh wow, this is literally the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted
. I can’t even be bothered to chew gracefully. It’s got a wonderfully crunchy type skin and the meat inside is juicy and perfect. Not being a huge fan of American hot dogs, I’m surprised that I’m so in love with this. The fried onions are the icing on the cake. I demolish my entire hot dog in minutes and am feeling an overwhelming sadness that I don’t have any more. I buy another.

******

I have thoroughly enjoyed everything he has shown me and we have laughed and joked so much. We’ve definitely fallen into a comfortable groove, at least while it’s just us. I know that we will have to go back to pretending we mean nothing to each other the second we are around everyone else.

Earlier we went to Tjörnin
, a pond in central Reykjavík. There were other people around feeding ducks and geese. Ari gave me part of his hot dog bun to toss at them. I was instantly surrounded by a horde of unpleasant, squawking seagulls who were all trying to grab the tiny piece I was holding in my hand.

Screeching like a banshee, I tossed the bread as far away as I could into the water (which, incidentally, wasn
’t very far at all), and ran back to Ari. He was hunched over, laughing hysterically. Now that I’m not on the verge of death, I guess it’s ok for me to find it funny too.

******

“This street is Skólavörðustígur and at the very end is a church that has a statue dedicated to Leif Eriksson, the first guy to really discover America. Everyone thinks it’s Columbus, but it’s really Leif.” He’s obviously pretty proud about this, judging by the smug expression on his face, so I just smile at him. He’s so charming and smart. Why can’t we always just be like this together?

“Ooh,
” I tease as I raise my eyebrow. “So all of our history books are wrong?”

“Yes, they are
.”

I just shrug and continue walking up the street.

This street is great. At the very end is a huge, massive church, large and white, with a pretty tall spire in the front. In the courtyard area is a statue of a Viking, and I can only assume that it’s Leif Eriksson. It’s a beautiful church and it even appears that you can take a trip up to the very top of the spire and check out the view. I bet it’s gorgeous.

“Wow, this church is beautiful. What
’s it called?”

“Hallgrimskirkja.”

“Is this your surprise?” Maybe we’re going to go up to the top.

“No, this isn
’t it. If you cross the street with me, I’ll show you.” Much to my surprise, he grabs my hand lightly and leads the way. I’m shocked stupid, and can’t pay attention to anything else. I’m particularly glad he’s leading the way so I don’t walk headfirst into a passing car.

We cross the road to a museum, and walk around the back, entering through a gate into a very large garden. The weather is now chilly and drizzly, kind of misty. The grey clouds are really low, and our hair and clothing are collecting tiny water droplets. Ari lets go of my hand to allow me to walk a little in front of him.
I instantly miss his warmth.

Heading up to the top of a set of very wide steps, I can see where it is that we are. Church bells start ringing from across the street, contributing to this very special moment. My breath catches in my throat
and my hand reaches up to rest lightly on my chest. It’s so beautiful here. My throat tightens, probably just from intensity of emotion with what my eyes are being gifted with. This moment is magical since Ari is here with me when I behold this place for the first time.

Absolutely amazing statues are filling the garden in front of us, at the top of the
stairs. They all appear to be by the same artist and are strategically placed in an aesthetically pleasing display. In the very center of the garden is a statue of a woman sitting in a throne, head bent down, and her arms resting upon the high armrests. She looks so regal and maternal. We stop in front of it to inspect her more closely. There is another younger or smaller person in her arms, huddling close, sitting on her lap and leaning into her. It’s beautiful and powerful.

“Einar Jónsson is Iceland
’s first recognized sculptor. I’m sure you can see that most of his sculptures are a collection of Norse mythology and symbolism. I love this place.” Ari’s voice isn’t far behind me.

There are so many statues in this magical garden. I turn to Ari with wide eyes and a huge smile to mention how beautiful this place is.
Still, the expression on his face stops me. He’s looking at me, a slight frown on his face, almost confused. I’m not sure if he’s happy or not. My own smile falters from sudden uncertainty. The intensity of his gaze worries me. Is he angry?

“Is everything okay with you?” I take a step closer to him. I feel like, inside this garden, we are in a hidden and secret world just for us, so maybe he
’ll confide in me like old times.

“You were never supposed to come here.”

I can barely hear him. He is speaking so quietly. I’m now standing close enough to where I could touch him if I reached out. It’s so tempting. My fingers wiggle a little as I struggle to keep my hands to myself.

“Do you regret that I
’ve come?” I’m not sure I’m ready for his answer.

“No
.” He shuffles his feet a little, and I realize he’s coming closer to me. His response fills me with relief. My heart starts to speed up and my breath catches a little in my throat. Why is he coming closer?
Please, keep coming closer.

“I just don
’t know what I’m supposed to do. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Is that a thread of desperation I hear in his voice? He is frowning at me. I get the impression he’s trying to convey more than his words let on.

“I know. It
’s strange for me too. I’m sorry if my being here is causing you pain. That’s never been my intention. Ari, you’re not supposed to
do
anything. You aren’t obligated to do anything towards me.” The poor guy seems so troubled that my heart squeezes.

“I wasn
’t prepared for how I would feel when I saw you face to face for the first time.” My eyes fly up to meet his. I feel shocked stupid by his words. Maybe he does feel something for me. Maybe I can—no wait. He’s dating someone. He’s unavailable.
Knock it the fuck off, Brooke
.

I
’m not even exactly sure what I’m supposed to say. Opting instead to keep my mouth shut, I raise my head and look him directly in the eyes, trying to communicate that I feel the same way without saying anything at all. His eyes gaze back into mine for a long moment, and I’m pretty sure the world around us is starting to move in slow motion.

All I can see is the clear blue of his eyes. I
’m trapped in tunnel vision, sucked into the void. I can hear the roaring of blood flowing in my ears, and I feel paralyzed in place. How is this guy doing this to me without even touching me? I’m flooded with so many mixed emotions that I have no chance of keeping up.

Ari is suddenly right in front of me. He
’s so close that I can feel his breath on my left cheek. If I were to turn my head, we would probably kiss. I no longer want to move. I don’t want to do anything that will scare him, or stop him from continuing. He isn’t technically touching me at all, as he leans into me and his nose comes dangerously close to my left ear.

He inhales deeply, as if he is savoring my scent. Goose bumps cover my skin as he
exhales. Mine is trapped in my chest, and my head involuntarily tilts a little to the right, as he comes even closer. His nose is so close to my ear that I can’t really tell if he’s actually touching me or not.

His left hand comes up, and I startle a little like a frightened deer. Very, very softly, he wraps his fingertips around the right side of my neck, placing his thumb under my jaw on the left side, under my chin. His thumb holds my head at the angle it
’s in and he takes another step closer, pressing into me.

Heat sears me and it
’s almost unbearable how aware my body is of his. I take in another quick inhalation. He starts to walk forward, forcing me to take a few steps backward so I don’t fall over. My back suddenly comes in contact with the main statue in the garden and his left arm braces himself against it.

Panting a little, I realize that I
’m ridiculously turned on. His touch on my skin feels so good and I don’t say a word to stop him. At this very moment, I have no guilt, no conscience. In fact, I think my brain and body are putty, and Ari is the artist who knows how to mold me. My skin is hot, even in this damp weather, and I can feel the sprinkles of the misty rain come down on my face, helping to cool my now flushed cheeks.

His nose starts to travel from my ear down my neck. Its contradicting sensations with the heat of his skin and warm breath mixed with the cold water droplets clinging to my skin. Goose bumps break out on my body again and I feel a shiver traipse down my spine. A flood of emotions
flow through my chest and leave me overwhelmed. I can feel my body trembling with anticipation and uncertainty.