Page 18 of The River in Spring
5
Nobel
Our phone conversations are getting good. I have wanted to be the guy who says all the right things. Who wears confidence like a perfectly tailored suit. What man doesn’t? But in the past talking romance when you are in two different places hasn’t seemed natural. When your default setting is invisible, you can’t easily reset. I’m more the guy to prove his worth in person.
Dove is playful and never shies away from my feeble attempts at bringing up the fact we need to fuck. The urge has overtaken us both. We have danced around the elephant in every room. In prior conversations, with other women, I always have had to involve alcohol. My words sounded flat and it took me out of the moment. With her it’s different. I put a crumb out and she picks it up and makes a soufflé.
Words are all we have. Date number two waits in the wings. The band’s two week trip to Nashville for a booking has made calls mandatory. With each one we stretch the boundaries of decency. She seems to be enjoying it as much as I am, and that is one appealing quality. Being indecent is highly underrated in women. But they are the only ones that misjudge the advantage over us drooling primates. Men are aware.
In the meantime, one restrained kiss will have to hold. Never went so slow in my life. Not at any age. There hasn’t been reason enough to wait. Until now. It sucks to know it is part of our story, because the risk of losing the moment is real. Wouldn’t want to be a man forgotten before I give her a reason to be remembered.
At first, I attempted controlling the voice of my libido. No matter how loud he was, I was in charge. Calls were once a day and involved news of her recording session of the band’s latest original. I asked all the right questions and showed the genuine happiness I feel for them. That business is brutal. She told me that. Yet it’s who she is and where she wants to be. I’m going to support her just as I want to be supported in my interests. The difference is mine take place in my house in front of a computer screen and hers involve the public.
I didn’t want to look like I feel, completely taken. Nobody likes someone who pushes too hard. Needy is not a good look. But why rein in the part of me that feels so fucking great when we talk? Not to mention a dick aggressively reminding me to think of sex with the golden goddess. Like an annoying kid tugging on my sleeve, I ignore him constantly.
It’s more than sex. I like how she laughs and the way the sound pulls you into her joy. There is a lightness about her that can’t be ignored. And it’s more than her youth. The conclusion I have arrived at, is there has been something missing in my life. Don’t exactly know how to describe the indescribable thing she brings.
Sitting between all the lofty thoughts is the realization Ineedto fuck her. Need being the operative word. A literal ache is involved, and the cure is Dove. In a kind of weird sense, I know it would be almost …no, don’t even think that.
Pushing hesitation aside, the word spiritual pops up like a neon sign blinking on and off. Never will I say that aloud. It sounds like a guy trying to sell the idea the physical and spiritual are connected just to get laid. I am not. This is the first I have believed in the concept and I don’t know what to do with the information.
If we hadn’t already talked twice today, I would be calling again. Instead, I use my waning self-control and get ready for sleep. That is the only way to stop thinking about the girl.
The cell sounds. Dove.
“This is a surprise. A good one,” I say, happy as shit.
“Thought I’d call you for a change.”
“I was just getting in bed. Perfect timing.”
“Me too.”
I pause for a beat, before jumping into the deep end.
“Wish we were together. I could tuck you in.”
“Tuck me?” she says with a naughty tone, followed by a giggle. “Sure that’s what you meant to say?”
Here’s the moment.
“Did I say tuck? I meant fuck.”
The giggle turns into laughter, and I join in.
“At least you didn’t hang up, and report me to the authorities,” I say.
Slowly, our laughter quiets.
“Now why on earth would I do that?” Dove says in soft tones. “Don’t you know I want to be with you too?”
Immediately my dick reacts with a sharp lift. The sheet moves. I stroke myself.
“Get your ass home, woman. When do you land?”
“Tomorrow at two-thirty.”
“Let me pick you up. Can you spend the night?”
