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“Yeah. Yes. I was dreaming. I’m good. I’m good. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.
“I’m fine. Really. I’m going to just shower the dream away, I think. Thanks for checking on me.”
Sylvia hits me again with her patented side-eye, but slowly begins to back out of the room. “Okay, girl. Night.”
Once I hear her close her door, I finally fully exhale. I rest my head in my hands, trying to escape the one thought screaming in my head since I was brought back to reality. This feeling, this overwhelming feeling of him on me, in me, is not going away. I’m not going to be able to breathe it away, sleep it away. I’m going to have to make it stop.
I lower the lights Sylvia turned on initially in favor of one of the bathroom lights. I let the shower run to gain a bit of steam before I shed my dress and undergarments to close myself behind the glass door. My back welcomes the hot water, even as I tip my head back to offer my already damp hair the chance to wash away the night.
I’m very conscious of every inhale and exhale I allow my body. All it’s doing is creating an echo that matches what my head conjured in my dreams. I open my eyes to my hanging toiletry bag on the back shower wall. My attention is drawn to the very bottom zipper. Inside could be the key to my salvation.
I don’t know why I did, but I brought my favorite B.O.B. along on this trip. It’s not something I’ve ever done before. I tossed my petal-shaped friend in like it was my razor or my lip gloss. Thank fuck I did. I toy with the silicone structure in my hand before my index finger presses the top and activates the vibration.
The sensation pulsing through my fingers hits my core before the actual petal does. I’m so far over the edge already, it shouldn’t take long. The quick-quick-slow waltzing beat of the vibrator slides through my hairline as I lean against the tiled back wall. The buzz mixes with the falling water and creates a battle for which will do my senses in first.
I flatten the toy against my skin with a harsh gasp. The tip of the petal dips in between the folds of my most delicate skin. I shudder as I feel the movement start an inferno in my core. Involuntarily, my right foot rises to the shower bench so I can press the feeling deeper.
My body jerks once, twice, then a third time as the feeling begins to boil over. The palm of my hand slaps the tile as my fingers curl in, with my orgasm rocketing through my being before I even know what’s happening. It lingers while the heat of the water pours over me. I gasp repeatedly so I don’t do what I really want to do….call his name.
As the overwhelming feeling subsides, I turn my face to the water and let the beads rain onto my face. What I feel for Rafael is powerful. I can’t decide what that means or if I want to.
Chapter five
Ava
Three hours left.
That’s all we have left in this magical Georgian town. A few days ago, I can honestly say I never knew this city existed. I bet I drove through it or around it a dozen times. I feel a bit bad I didn’t know it was here, and now I’ll never be able to forget it.
I slept in late because I couldn’t go back to sleep after my shower. It had, or at least the memories of it, had the opposite effect. I couldn’t get him off my mind. I told Sylvia I wanted to take one last lap to see if I could say goodbye, at least that’s what I told myself.
I wanted to run into him. I wanted that next interaction to add on to the ones before it. He’s addictive. The way he listens with his eyes. The way he stands as a shield next to you when you aren’t even realizing it. He simply holds your hand and you can feel this energy pass from him to you. I’ve never experienced that with another human being. To say he’s like a drug doesn’t cover it.
I walk past the house they were filming at yesterday and it’s eerily quiet. The breeze is cutting through the ivy I focused on yesterday. The sole reminder that anyone had been there was one lingering tape mark on the sidewalk for blocking. To anyone else it might look like the remnants of a child’s game. I can still see him standing on that mark and the camera capturing his lines, his movement, simply him.
I don’t know if they staged the hedges along the sidewalk to the street with roses or if they had all died off, but there is one red one left on the right side. I don’t know what possesses me, but I have to have it. I reach in and snap the stem with my fingernail. The bud falls gently into my hand. I carry it with me as I walk back to the street corner where I can see the coffee shop down to my left and the bar right in front of me.
I don’t even need to look inside. I can feel he’s not there.
I need to remember what I told myself initially. This is a good memory. That’s all it is. Nothing more. Funny thing though…what your mind might know, your spirit might still need some convincing.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little sad driving out of town. I leave the window down and let the sun try and soak away this overwhelmingly melancholy feeling I have. Sylvia doesn’t say much on the drive home. She only bitches about traffic in a mix of Spanglish I’ve become used to. I know she does it to make me smile.
When we park on the street outside our apartment and I make no move for the door, she calls me out on my silence. “You really liked him, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. I do. He’s kind.”
“He’s kind? I know you better than that. Your eyes do this far away stare thing when you’re inside your head. You don’t get all twisted up over just anything. You’re too chill for that. It’s okay if you did. I’d think you were crazy if you didn’t.”
“I don’t have the right though. He’s wherever he is doing what he does and I’m here. Would I like to have dinner with him again if he’s ever in town? Absolutely. That’s about all I could hope for. I like to read fairy tales, Syl. I don’t star in them.”
“Oh, bullshit. You deserve to be Cindafuckinrella. Every girl does.”
“Okay, then. Maybe he just wasn’t my prince.”
Even as the words are dropping from my mouth, I’m trying to convince Sylvia just as much as I’m trying to convince myself. We roll our bags up to our floor and collapse on the couch, she’s at one end, I’m at the other. We order in bad for us takeout, like we haven’t eaten like pigs for days. I find the food oddly comforting tonight, along with my old black yoga pants with the tiny hole in the knee.
