It's Got A Ring To It (16 page)

Our eyes met, as if for the first time and I couldn’t take them off
of him. I confidently began disrobing myself in silence. It was imperative for
Myles to see every inch of my body, flaws and all, without my insecurities tainting
his image of me. He surveyed my body in the brightest light without the veil of
my own shame. In one fluid movement, my tank top hit the floor. As I unhooked
my bra, my breasts slightly turned upward in response to the chill in the air.
Turning for him, I slid out of my capris one leg at a time. I couldn’t help
smiling as Myles seemed
put
off by the lace-lined red
satin panties hitting the floor, so sensual and feminine beneath such casual
attire. His eyes seemed to be tracing the arch created by the bend of my back
and the roundness of my backside. I wanted him to study my body. The better
he’d be able to determine his approach.

Only when I was sure that his vision could take no more without
touch, I gave myself permission to have him. Tasty kisses down his chest, while
my hands got lost in his arms. Continuing
s
outh, my lips found something else to kiss.
Myles moaned with pleasure. Still, the weight of his eyes never wavered. I
wouldn’t be embarrassed or deterred. My mouth took all of him in until heat
rose up to thaw the coolness of his demeanor. Moans and growls of yearning
sparked in his groin letting me know that it was a satisfying pain. A carnal
urge ignited within me as I rose to his peak alongside him.

Breathless and damp, he seemed eager to see what I would do next. I
led him to the floor. Politely I asked, “May I?” His eyes met mine, as I stood
straddling him from above.

Eager to oblige, Myles replied, “
Y
ou may
.
You seem to know what you want.” His words
were matter-of-fact and distinctly pleasing.

“I do. I’ve only just now decided to ask for it. It’s what I want and
what I need right now
.
”
I contended as I
glided on the condom and
lowered myself onto
the length of him. My hips swayed back and forth in harmony with his. Letting
my neck hang back, I rode the rising wave, while Myles held firmly to my
backside, guiding me along.
In and out.
Up and down, I
squeezed my thighs together, feeling every inch of him. Reaching. Searching for
the spot. And then we found it together. I begged him through labored breath
not to move. Trembling with longing
,
I let myself go, unearthing all the years
of obedience and unleashing the stifled woman within. He lifted his mouth to my
breasts and hungrily took each of them in while his hands guided my body from
the arch of my back as he slid into a passionate rhythm.

“Myles, I want you so bad.”

“You have me…” he whispered softly through staggered breaths, “I’m
yours.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was too involved to think about
it at the time. “Take me.” Happy to turn over the reins, I let him lead as we
rolled over. He took my mouth in his and our bodies melded into a purposeful
tempo. My hands gripped him roughly. I wanted to be even closer still. Low
growls gradually crept out as yells of full gratification. Behind closed eyes,
fireworks exploded in sparking hues of red and orange. My body had been run
ragged in the best way. Quakes of our volatile eruption simmered into
aftershocks and subsided.

“It was by far the best sex I’ve ever had. Yeah. So, that’s what
happened with me and Myles.” The look on Brooke’s face was shock and utter
disbelief. It’s no wonder, too. I never let an inkling of that side of me show.
Not even in college, when being wild and crazy
was
socially acceptable. And definitely not
when I was with Ethan.

Her mouth hung wide open
.
“
W
hen in the hell did you ever…”
W
ords clearly escap
ed
her.

“I’ve always wanted to.
I just never had the nerve. It’s just
something about Myles that lets me be the version of me that I want to be. You
know how you like Drew, but you don’t want to?” She nodded. “Well, I have
feelings for Myles that scare the crap out of me. I want to be with him, and
it’s throwing me for a loop. I just don’t have a clue how this happened. And so
fast.”

“I’m so happy you finally got laid properly,” she said bluntly. “Hope
you realize that the moment was great only because you finally let go and
enjoyed yourself instead of running orders on an assembly line.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He hasn’t called me today, so it must have
been just sex to him,” I said, stifling the urge to pout.

“You okay with that?” Brooke knew better than anyone, it was never
okay with me. Being able to look in the mirror and like the person I s
aw was
something I’d never
been willing to compromise. There were no one-night stands. No friends with
benefit
s
,
bootie calls or fuck buddies. And definitely not sex on the first date. Which
is why, the whole insatiable attraction to Myles was just unheard of and
inexplicable.

“Not like I have much choice in the matter. I
have
to be okay with it.”

“All that means is that we need you to meet more guys. Date. Have
fun, like you told me. Just keep your options open.”

“Right. Because it’s been so much fun already,” I teased, dripping
with sarcasm.

“Well, we’re in New York. Even if this layover is only for a day.
Let’s make the most of it. Shopping on Canal Street, check out the sites or a
few museums, if you want. I know I promised you
that
we’d see a play. I know how
you
love musicals.” The fact that
plays periodically break out into song, never appealed to Brooke. So, her sheer
willingness to hold up her end of the bargain was commendable. “Just might be
able to get us tickets to Wicked. Or”
—
wait for it
—
“we could have lunch, and go
shopping!”

“Fine, we can go shopping, but I’m just letting you know now, you’re
going to owe me big time.”

“Aw. You’re such a good friend.”

“Yeah, well next time we’re going to see
Wicked
and you’re going to sit there quietly while actors sing
like sprites in tights, and you’re going to like it.”

With the plans for our next trip firmly etched in stone, we were down
for the count. It
was
no
wonder Brooke mentioned lunch, instead of breakfast. After flying in on the
redeye and talking to the break of dawn, we awoke feeling and looking like the
living dead. Only after we finally decided to open the blackout curtains in the
room and we’d had our second cup of coffee, we made headway on the rest of the
day. It was as if not a day had passed since we were roommates back in college.
We moved like a well-oiled machine. Brooke showered and I brushed my teeth and
when she hopped out, I quickly washed up while she blow-dried her hair. The
nice thing about traveling, there were limited clothing and shoe options for us
to mull over, freeing up at least another twenty to thirty minutes we might’ve
loss. We’d wasted away much of the day sleeping, but it was nice having nowhere
particular to be. The heat of the day had already reached its peak, but the
humidity lingered in the air.

It was nice being back in New York again. Not everyone’s cup of tea,
but it suited
me.
The gum-smeared sidewalks flanking
the streets like stars on the Hollywood
W
alk of
F
ame,
were
mile-markers of the people who’d made it to the Big Apple. Honking horns and
the hum of bike messengers whizzing by were like music to my ears, welcoming me
back to the big city. It was the city of fashion, dreams, and hope, partially
because the last time Brooke and I were there, I was still single and full of
hope. The Sweet Tooth was always in the back of my mind, but I needed to
explore my talents, wear cute clothes, buy at least on
e
pair of
expensive shoes, and find unfiltered, raw love. Unfortunately, what I got was a
few cracks in my heart, a costly pair of broken heels, and all signs leading me
back to my candy shop. Still, being back gave me that same nostalgic feeling of
freedom. I was once again single, in need of a good splurge, and strangely
hopeful about the prospect of love.

Between street corner
stops
, I sifted through deceptively good
name-brand knock-off
s
and
let my mind venture to imagine being there with
Myles.
He’d
likely be
held captive by paintings at
MoMA
,
while I sort
ed
through
souvenirs in the gift shop. The two of us holding hands while our flowing
conversation meld
ed
into the din of life all around us. Afterward, we’d have tons of pictures and
keepsakes from the place where we fell for each other
—
the place we’d always go back to for
vacations and anniversaries.

As soon as I saw the number on the screen of my phone, I knew who it
was. Frustrated still, I pressed talk and yelled, “You have the wrong number.
Don’t call this number again.” When I clicked off, I realized that it wasn’t
the poor person on that line that I was mad at. Misplaced anger had gotten he
best of me. I wished he’d have called. Shoot, a text would have sufficed.
But, nothing.
Not a word from him. Every time the phone
rang, it only emphasized that fact that everyone else had time for me, but him.

“Hello? Earth to
Laila
,” Brooke stared at
me as I clutched a Tory Birch bag. “Who was that?”

“Uh…another one of Myles’ friends,” I through up in air
quotes
. Anyway, I was just trying to think of what I would
wear with this
.
” I
sputtered. She’d already paid for hers and the guy was putting it in a plastic
bag. Quickly, I asked him to ring mine up, too.

We followed up on our
bargain-shopping
blitz with a trek to the
Upper West Side on Madison Avenue. We made it to Tiffany’s, Saks, and
Bloomie’s
, and I was pooped. Dragging my feet, I begged
Brooke for mercy, but she had a list of the places she
had
to get to because she wouldn’t have another New York layover
this month. In record time, she buzzed like a busy bee through Herald Square
while I let my feet rest. By the time she waddled her way over to me with both
arms flexed to capacity with shopping bags, I could have eaten a cow.

Around the corner, we stopped in a quaint Italian restaurant called
Pepolino
on Broadway in Tribeca. The consanguinity of the
food and atmosphere could never be questioned. In a comfy nook, it wasn’t
overdone.
Charming and graceful, easygoing.
The
eggplant and risotto were just mouthwatering. Brooke audibly enjoyed the
gnocchi. Her eyes were closed most
of
the meal and
periodically sighs of her gluttonous bliss seeped out.
And
the ricotta cheesecake?
There
were
no words to describe it. For a
dessert-lover like myself, it received the highest honor, the
I’m-going-burst-but-I-can’t-stop-eating award.

A nice after
-
dinner liqueur would’ve been just the
ticket, but we decided to enjoy one last glass of the
C
hianti to stay in the spirit. No sooner than
the waiter poured the wine, did my phone start ringing away. I was tempted not
to answer, but part of me hoped it was Myles. Naturally, it
was
somewhere at the bottom of my purse
hiding under all the junk I had
jammed in there
. I grabbed it but couldn’t
quite get a hold of it. Then, I remembered that I’d put it the side pocket with
the hole in it and my cell was shifting underneath the lining. Finally, I was
able to get it out. It stopped ringing, but the face glowed. Missed call. Not
from Myles.
A missed call from Ethan.
Confused, I
looked up at Brooke.

“Who was it?”

“Ethan.”

“Shit. What the fuck does he want?” Brooke is
a
dead-ringer
Grace Kelly, but she’s got the potty mouth of
a
drunken sailor.

“How should I know?” I questioned, knowing full well why he’d called.
Why he’d been calling. But, I had no desire to tell Brooke that this wasn’t the
first call. As a friend, she took her duty to hate people I hated
to heart.

“Spill it. I know you’re holding out.”

Having a friend who always kn
ew
when y
ou were
hiding something really
was
inopportune when you d
idn’t
want to talk, though
it
did
limit lying.

“Ethan’s been trying to get me to give him another chance. We talked
on the phone twice, but I’m definitely against it.”

“Don’t even think about it
.
”
She was
fuming. It’s easy to see that my
insight was correct. “He’s a fucking jerk
off. Yes, I want you to get back out there
and date, but don’t go backwards. And so what if Myles hasn’t called. That just
means that you need a few more eggs in a few more baskets. Date! A lot of
people.” As if reading my mind, she responded knowingly. “I don’t mean sleep
with a slew of guys, but get to know them and have fun for the millionth time.
If Myles is a dingbat and can’t figure out how great you are, then screw
him
,too
.”