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“Can’t stop thinking about me? Can you still feel my lips on yours, on your skin, angel?” I say, my tone low and seductive.
“No, and I hate myself for it!” Her voice rises a few pitches. I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing.
“Why? You are allowed to want me, to be attracted to me. It isn’t easy to fight, no matter the other person’s situation.” It is human nature. What is the point of fighting it?
Alana lets out a slight snicker. “Are we really going to get into this again?”
“I would rather get in somewhere else.”
“Ezra!”
I don’t understand why she seems so surprised. By now she should know I speak my mind. “I am just saying. Do you want some company? I promise to behave.” I would rather disappear from here before Bella comes back.
“I am not sure it is such a good idea, Ezra. Look what happened the last time we were alone.” She lets out a sigh.
“Please? I could do with the company.” I probably sound desperate, but if it works, I will stick with it.
“Okay, but please behave because I can’t handle you acting any other way, Ezra.”
“I swear I will behave. We can hang out, nothing more.” I am sure I can keep my hormones in check for the night if it is the only way I get to spend time with her.
“Come on over. Can you grab a bottle of wine on the way? I will give you the money when you arrive.”
I have plenty of wine in the house, the good stuff, so I can take a bottle with me. “Do you like red wine?” I have a lovely bottle of Opus One from Napa Valley.
“Yes, I prefer it.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. I make sure I’ve got everything, including the bottle of wine from my cellar, and head out. I’m glad she agreed to let me come over.
Pacingmy living room while waiting for Ezra to come over I am tempted to switch off all the lights, lock the door, and pretend I’m not here. But how would that work since he knows I am home? I need to stop letting this man convince me to do things which are unusual for me. Why did I say yes? No, I know why. It’s because he sounded lonely when he asked to come over, a feeling I am familiar with, which got to me.
I stop before I make myself dizzy. Instead, I take a few deep breaths and get a grip on myself. He is only a man. He has no control over me. I keep repeating the words in my head, only to stop when I hear a rattle on my front door. I take one last deep breath before answering.
“You got this,” I whisper to myself and open it. The second my eyes meet his blues, my knees become weak. Damn it! He looks very casual, and it suits him. He is in grey joggers and a black hoodie. His perfectly slicked back hair is a little messy. Is there any time he isn’t sexy?
Ezra smiles brightly. “Hello, bright eyes.” He walks straight in without an invite, which shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. I close the door behind us, and when I turn around, he is a matter of inches away from me. His scent surrounds me, and I can’t work out what the scent is. It seems to be a mixture of aftershave and mint, maybe from his shampoo or shower gel. Whatever it is, I like it.
“Wine?” I ask. I need something to calm my nerves.
“Right here.” He holds it out for me to take. I glance at the bottle, and my jaw nearly hits the floor. I was expecting a standard bottle. This one can cost anywhere from $300 upwards due to the 2018 vintage. I only know this because of some of the events I have worked. Maybe it doesn’t seem so expensive to some people, but to me, it does. The cost of it would cover half my rent for the month.
“I thought you liked red wine?” he seems confused by my reaction.
“I do, but I wasn’t expecting you to bring over such an expensive bottle. Should you not hold onto it for a special occasion?” Can’t he have a better use for it instead of just a casual drink with me?
He shrugs. “I have many others at home.”
I leave the conversation there, taking the bottle with me to the kitchen. “I don’t own wine glasses, so we need to use mugs. Sorry,” I say, embarrassed, but I can’t afford to waste money on things like proper wine glasses.
“Mugs are fine.” He smiles.
At least he doesn’t seem to be judging me. I feel bad pouring it into such shitty cups, but it’s either use them, or we drink straight from the bottle. I pass his drink to him, lifting the other for myself and stroll to my living room.
I take a sip. It’s sweet, but with a hint of spice and blackberry, enough to make my taste buds tingle. Ezra sits next to me and asks, “Have you tried it before?”
I shake my head. “It is a lovely wine, one of my favourites.” I understand why. It is delicious.
I rest back, feeling awkward suddenly. I swear the only time we are good at communicating is when we argue or make out. A part of me wants to gulp down the wine, but this type of wine isn’t supposed to be imbibed in such a manner.
