I’d been cordial.
Polite.
Gracious.
I may disagree with my mother in her Republican-branded ideologies, but I had learned my manners from her.
If offered coffee, I accepted it, but I didn’t have to drink it.
If asked a question, I answered, but I owed it to no one to elaborate.
If texted, yes or no would be sufficient.
If stared at, I did my best to ignore.
There wasn’t a doubt that he was trying to apologize.
I had forgiven him.
In my mind.
But he didn’t have to know.
He was keeping his distance and I ensured that the distance was a chilly one.
He hadn’t done anything wrong.
Yet he hadn’t said anything right either.
Was it immature for me to want to be wanted?
He was there for a reason. To detract any threats. To keep me safe.
He did all that and more, so much more –
He waited until I went to sleep before he rested.
I knew because I heard the soft creak of my bedroom door when he did his ‘final’ check at night. Sometimes I felt him, just standing there for a few minutes, staring into the darkness, then with his footsteps barely louder than a whisper, he’d close the door and leave.
I’d been staying at his house now for most days of the week. He’d been honest with me – that his house offered the best security so it was the best place for me. I offered no resistance simply because I trusted him.
Liam was around. Not as much as the first few days when Webb had returned from his business trip. He was a fun guy. He managed to make me roll my eyes a hundred times a minute because he baited me into saying things I didn’t want.
‘You think my friend’s hot, Athena?’
Cue the eye roll.
Webb was working out on the front lawn, shirtless. I was reading a book until Webb’s wide shoulders, muscled pecs, and straight-outta-Men’s Fitness abs showed up.
I was still trying to lap up the drool from my chin when Liam appeared beside me.
I doubted Webb could hear us because Liam and I were a few feet away, but I thought a shadow of a smile gleamed on Webb’s face after Liam outed me.
‘My brother loves the dumplings you brought, Athena.’
Cue another eye roll.
Liam had loudly said it after I’d had dinner with Dyan and Mario at Golden Dumplings in Chinatown. Webb had been there. Outside the restaurant. Somewhere in the vicinity.
His stomach had growled while we were in the car. Dyan had invited him, but he’d declined.
He always said no.
It was his favorite word.
I wasn’t a mean person so I’d asked for a dozen dumplings; three shrimp, six pork, and three chicken, to-go and when we reached his place, after dropping off my friends, I’d plated them on a big white dinner plate and said, “Dumplings are for you,” as I passed him when I was leaving from the kitchen to freshen up in the bedroom.
I’d returned to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, only to see that Liam was savoring the last bits of the dumplings.
“Did Webb eat at all?” I couldn’t help but ask. Liam had raised a brow and made an aforementioned comment.
The eye roll inducing moments were frequent when Liam was around.
But when it was just me and Webb, I tried my very best to not become affected by his presence.
I had no reason to be upset with him.
Like I said, he was only doing his job.
His job, meaning me.
I wasn’t upset at him because he didn’t want me.
The standards of the women he liked or dated were probably set sky high.
I wasn’t irritated because he didn’t want to get involved with me, in ah, hmm, intimate terms.
I was displeased.
Frustrated.
Confused –
Because the two times I’d kissed him, he’d returned them back with such eagerness, like a man parched for water then within the same span of time, he doubled back and couldn’t wait to be away from me as fast as his lips had clamped onto mine.
Whiplash much?
The man could give orders in short, precise terms yet he couldn’t explain to me in the exact same sentence why he needed to avoid me?
I wasn’t an overdramatic, emotional female – which by the way, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it if I was – but I was owed an explanation for the sudden cold shoulder.
I wasn’t dreaming of being the real Rachel Marron who fell in love with her bodyguard, Frank Farmer. It only happened in the movies with Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner. I couldn’t carry a tune like Whitney/Rachel and even if I could, I’d hate to be shot at.
I just wanted some sort of acknowledgement from his end, that he felt the tiniest bit of attraction to me. I’d felt his erection; it wasn’t hard to miss. The bulge in his pants was prodding my ass when he’d lifted me in his arms before he’d frozen like the Arctic.
I wasn’t experienced with men.
For more than half of my life, the only significant men in my life were my father and the male doctors and nurses who were in charge of my care.
The first boy I’d liked was a cutie named Kyle who had passed away at ten from a complication of Cystic Fibrosis, a disease he’d had since he was born. He and I spent a lot of time together in the hospital playing The Legend of Zelda and he didn’t let me win. Hence, why I adored him.
The second boy I’d been infatuated with was a Native American member of the Quileute tribe named Jacob Black, played by Taylor Lautner, in the Twilight movies. Stephanie Meyer’s creation kept me company through all the poking, prodding, and painful treatments I’d had to go through.
Denton was the third guy I’d liked and the first I’d ever considered giving it up to. Taylor Lautner was far from available so I had to settle for Denton.
Not really.
Before Webb came along, I was ready to give it up for Denton.
He was a good guy and lots of fun to be around.
He was attracted to me too and he minced no words about it.
When the whirlwind of a guy named Webb entered my life, I wasn’t totally prepared for it.
He was older.
More experienced.
A man who looked like he’d been swallowed by the world and came back out a survivor.
Unfeeling.
Cold.
Yet when his lips touched mine, the fire in them was the only solace I sought.
No, I wasn’t annoyed or frustrated at Webb for being the best that he was at what he did.
I was sad.
Mostly.
For him.
Because he was denying me, us, the possibility of being good together.
Because while I could taste the caring, the heat, the lust in his kiss, I could also feel the desperation.
The hope and the loss of it.
I loved sunsets and appreciated the beginnings that they signified.
The sun goes down and the stars come up.
Wasn’t it amazing?
One light leaves, a million others shine on its behalf.
When I look into his eyes, every time he saw me, and while he thought I wasn’t really looking – I saw when the coldness left and the warmth began.
The ice in his blues withdrew and the life in his irises stormed in.
He kept me safe, but I brought him life.
And because he refused to acknowledge it, I couldn’t do a darn thing about it.