6 I want to be more than friends

Loaded with shopping bags, we lugged our tired asses back into the apartment. I'd forgotten how draining shopping with Julia could be. "Did you really need to get all that stuff?"

"Yes," she chirped. "Now I'm happy."

Flopping down on the sofa in exhaustion, I jerked when my cell phone vibrated. The number wasn't one I recognized.

"Yeah?"

"I knew I couldn't trust you to call me," a deep, melodic voice said on the other end with no preamble whatsoever. I didn't recognize the voice either.

"Uh, I'm sorry, who is this?" Please say “Josh, from the club”.

"It's Devon. I met you at the coffee shop yesterday? You told me you'd call, but you didn't."

Hope balloon deflated. 

It was that handsome guy from Starbucks. I'd forgotten all about him. "How did you get my number? I didn't give it to you."

"I gave it to myself," he replied simply.

"Huh?"

"It's an old trick, Dalia. When I entered my number into your phone, I rang it. So, yeah, that's how I got it. I had a feeling you wouldn't call and I didn't want to lose contact with you.”

"Oh," I said, wondering how I’d never heard of that trick before. How presumptuous, though.

"Dalia," he said in all seriousness. "I really like you and I would love to see you again. Is that possible? Please, don't give me an automatic no. Think about it."

"You tricked me into getting my number. How did you know I wouldn't tell you to fuck off?"

"Because you seem too sweet for that. And your lips are much too beautiful to do abominable things like swearing." But I just did, you idiot.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Devon." This guy had some of the most rinsed-out, clichéd lines. No one had ever taught him how to woo a woman?

He chuckled. "I'm an aging squirrel and you're a tough nut to crack. Let me try again." He cleared his throat. "Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm deeply attracted to you, but you think I'm full of...poo?"

A smile crawled onto my face as I shook my head. This guy…

"I can sense you smiling on the other end," he said in a sing-song tone. "So how did I do? Well enough get a date with you?"

"Yeah," I agreed. I had no plans beyond sketching, and foreseeing a solitary evening, I needed a diversion from the persistent thoughts of Josh.

"How about dinner this evening?" he suggested.

"Will it be at some fancy restaurant?"

"Um, yes.”

What was it with guys always trying to be impressive, being pretentiously romantic? Only to turn out to be complete dick-heads in the end.

"Then no."

He was silent for a moment. "Where would you like to go?"

"Somewhere ordinary. A nice chill spot would be good."

"Okay. I know just the place. I'll pick you up at eight?"

       "Sure.                      I'll                        text                   you                       my                   address."

I ended the call, smiling.

"Who was that?" the inquisitive Julia asked as she tested her new wild-cherry lip gloss, puckering her lips in the compact mirror.

"Some handsome guy who's interested in being more than just friends." My answer was a tad bitter, and I realized it was because I was still seething at being rebuffed by Mr. Mysterious in Black.

****

Devon and I were seated in the far corner of a swanky chill bar. Designed in stainless steel and glass with neon blue lights and white seating, it exuded a luxurious ambience. At the last minute, I'd changed from my first choice of casual jeans and tank top to a purple close-fitting V-neck dress. And it was a good thing I did, or I would’ve been sorely underdressed for this outing.

Devon commented repeatedly on my beauty, my legs and what I wore. Nice. But for some reason, his compliments didn't bolster my confidence.

I sipped on Blue Label and Coke, while he sipped Crown Royal on the rocks. As the evening progressed, I learned Devon Morris was single with no kids and owned a construction company. Everything else was just boring, boring, boring, mundane banalities, while I responded to his monotonous chatter with the occasional "Hmm," "Really?" "Impressive", "Ah, I get it", "Interesting". I resisted succumbing to my boredom twitches—which were inspecting my nails or rubbing my neck.

Devon was unquestionably handsome, sweet and flattering. The open-the-door and pull-your-chair-out kind of guy. He embodied all the qualities a woman would tick the box for in a man. But for me, he was...innocuous. Nothing beyond his physical appearance attracted or intrigued me.

He would ask me out again, and of course I would agree. I'd try again because the problem might not be him. At this point in my crappy life, I recognized I was distracted on all levels. 

"Oh man," I heard Devon say, dragging me from...wherever I'd drifted off to.

"Seems this wasn't the best to place to chill this evening, after all."

"What?" I asked, belatedly noticing the noise level in the bar had turned up.

Devon nodded toward the entrance, where a number of men clad in biker wear and towing scantily-dressed women along poured in. "There was a biker fest down south today. For the affluent. Should've guessed here would be the after spot on their way back."

"So what's wrong with them hanging out here? They all look like grown, responsible men to me." And frankly, I was glad for the sudden change of air.

"Nothing. I just don't—" he stopped. "If you're comfortable, then it's fine." Huh? Why would he think I'd be uncomfortable?

Devon launched into a story about when he was in college and once rode bikes. I was actually enjoying it, until...

There he was, Mr. Mysterious in Black, leaning at the bar, dressed in his favorite shade. Black boots, black jeans, black T-shirt and black biker jacket. His raven hair was messy and strewn about his forehead.

My mouth hanged infinitesimally.

Oh. My. God.

If there wasn't a chair already beneath me, I'd swoon. Josh was Y-U-M-M-Y. My heart flapped around in my chest like a headless chicken.

All his peers were laughing and swigging beers, but he looked distracted. A scantilydressed blond was clinging onto his bicep, yet he seemed to barely notice she was there.

This man...

How do I align the man I spoke with last night to the man who I now saw before me? The man last night was hot, yes, but business-like, hair neatly combed hot. The man I'm ogling now was biker-boy, rock-star hot; sending electric waves through my veins at the mere sight of him.

Dear Lord, help me get rid of this insane lust.

"Dalia?" Devon's voice pulled me from my inappropriate ogling.

I blinked at him, unable to speak just yet. My mouth was lacking moisture and warm heat settled between my thighs.

"You know him?" Devon asked, eying me curiously.

"Know who?"

"The guy you were gawking at." Busted.

"Uh, no. He just looks familiar.”

He glanced over to where Josh lounged casually by the bar, exuding sexiness, evoking raw, carnal desire, and Devon's jaw tensed while he drummed his fingers on the table. What's his problem?

"You look uncomfortable. Would you like to go?" he asked suddenly. 

This time I agreed without hesitation. Not because I was uncomfortable, but because I was suddenly wet and needy and impatient to get home and pleasure myself with fantasies of Josh above me, on me, kissing me, touching me, tasting me...

Devon rose and held out his hand. I placed my hand in his and we walked rather hastily towards the exit. I ducked my head and drew up my shoulders, hoping Josh wouldn’t spot me.

"Dalia?" The stern, unmistakable voice called from behind.

I winced at being caught and turned to see the walking temptation of a man that was Josh. "Ah, hi."  

"I thought that was you," he said. His tone was warm, but his expression not so much. Again I wondered, how did he do that?

"We were just leaving," I rushed out. "Oh, this is Devon." I gestured to Devon who was staring past Josh's head, not at him.

Josh glanced at Devon, and did a double take. His eyes widened momentarily, his mouth slightly hanged, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he was shocked. A pissed-off kind of shock.

He caught himself and resumed his previous stance, only now the warmth had vanished. He nodded at Devon, his sapphire-blue eyes glacial. "Devon." Finally, I got to see his eyes!

Devon reciprocated, but his eyes were anywhere except on Josh. "Nelson." Nelson? So they knew each other?

The scantily-dressed blond was back by Josh's side. She rested her chin on his shoulder, but he jerked back his shoulder and shot her a cold stare. "Hey, you don't see me talking here? Fall back."

The blond bit her plush, pink lips and let her hand slide leisurely down his arm, before letting out a dramatic sigh and sashaying back to where the biker group lounged.

“Er, we're heading out now. I'll see you around sometime," I said. If I stood in front of this steaming man any longer, I would self-combust.

"You mean you'll call me," he stated. It was not a question.

I smiled, hesitantly. "Yeah. I'll call you."

He nodded. But he wasn't looking at me. He was glowering death rays at Devon— whose eyes continued to dart everywhere in the room, but never at Josh.

I tugged at Devon's rigid arm and he looked down at me with a nervous smile, then we were out of that building.

We walked in silence to the parking lot. My silence was a consequence of that überawkward run in with Josh. And Devon's silence...of that I wasn't sure. There was definitely something going on between him and Josh. But I was much too hot and bothered to attempt asking questions. My reliance rested heavily on the airconditioning in Devon's Porsche to calm me.

"So, you know Josh?" I asked a few minutes after we'd entered his car and were out of the parking lot.

"Knew. And apparently you do, too." His tone was soft, holding no sarcasm, no chastising.

"I did say he looked familiar." 

"Familiar. From where?" I detected worry from him. Angst even. What the hell was he so anxious about?

"In a club. Seen him there a few times. We spoke once and exchanged digits."

"Oh. Okay." Devon breathed something akin to a sigh of relief and his body visibly relaxed. “Anyway, I completely dominated our conversation earlier and you never finished telling me about your friends. Julia and Michael? I get those names right?”

“Yeah.” I laughed, something forced. “Your memory’s sharp.”

“So, ah, how close are you and Michael? Like sister and brother close or just casual friends close?”

That’s a weird question. “Sister and brother close.”

“That means he doesn’t hide shit from you, right?”

What’s with these odd questions? And why so focused on Michael? “Everyone hides shit from others. It doesn’t matter how close two people may seem. Husbands and

wives hide shit from each other. Even the pastor tries to hide shit from God.”

Devon glanced at me with a look that said he knew I was being a smart-ass. But whatever, his questions were making me suspicious. I quickly launched a question before he could. “And how do you know Josh?"

He shifted rather uneasily in his seat. "An old college friend."

Lie. I could feel it. They weren’t college buddies. But I decided to cease my investigation. I hadn't a care if Devon and Josh were rivals or...whatever.

I was only certain of one thing: I wanted Josh in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before. My body sizzled at the thought of him. I wanted Josh to want me, too. To want to be more than friends.