What Love Looks Like (23 page)

        
In
an effort to make Jay eat his heart out, I wore my tightest J Brand jeans and
my sexiest boots from Via Spiga, along with a black cutout top from Gilt. It
crossed my mind that I might not look as thin as I had six months earlier, when
I was effectively starving myself just for him. But I thought that overall I
looked decent, and I wanted Jay to rue the day he ever screwed me over. I
walked the four blocks to Martini, taking the back way so that I wouldn’t pass
East Coast’s front windows. I felt so underhanded and had to repeatedly remind
myself that technically I hadn’t done anything wrong yet. It was just a quick
drink with an old acquaintance. When I finally arrived, I grabbed the last two
seats at the bar. Moments later, Jay emerged at the door. He looked the same,
only smaller. That was probably because I was now comparing him to Ryan, who
was very muscular. Even so, I got that feeling of butterflies that he so
masterfully evoked in me.

“Hi, sexy,” he
said, coming over and planting a kiss on both of my cheeks as if we were old
buddies, and European ones at that. “Nice place you picked out here.”

        
Martini
was
sexy. The environment was
scintillating, and I hoped that I hadn’t picked it subconsciously for that
reason. Everything was white apart from the dark wood floor and the oak bar.
Crystal chandeliers lent elegance to the interior, and it seemed the perfect
place for an affair. But this wasn’t even a date, let alone an affair. I had to
remember that and keep myself from falling into old destructive behaviors.

        
“Nice
to see you again,” I said flatly. I sipped my martini, not even reciprocating
his kiss. “Have a seat.” I nodded to the barstool next to mine. I had to admit
that it was good to see him again. As he always did, he garnered all of the
looks from women, and I immediately felt submissive yet strangely commanding in
his presence.

        
 
“Time’s treated you well,” he said.

        
“Well,
it’s only been a few months, Jay,” I said, sarcastically. “So to what do I owe
this, uh, pleasure?”

        
“I
had to see you and apologize in person. It isn’t what you think.”

        
“Oh,
I bet it isn’t,” I said, smirking.

        
“You’re
upset, I can tell.”

        
Shit!
I didn’t want to radiate anger, only indifference. “No, no. I’m not, really.”

        
“Well,
I want to make it up to you.”

        
“First
tell me what happened.”

        
“I
got freaked out.”

        
How
pathetic. “That’s all you’ve got? You got freaked out, so you decided to fuck
someone else?”

        
“I
hadn’t ever felt that way about anyone before, Elle. It was just different
being with you. I’m used to girls who are, I don’t know, crazy. And you
couldn’t have been saner. And I got scared. I liked my life how it was. Then I
felt you getting attached to me, and it freaked me out. And I pulled away. And
I’m an asshole.”

        
“Understatement,”
I muttered under my breath.

        
“Sorry,
what?”

        
“Nothing.
So that’s it? You got nervous?”

        
“It’s
that simple. I didn’t think I was ready to get serious with anyone, let alone a
girl in Ohio. But now I think I am.”

        
“You
think
you are?”

        
“No,
I am. I really am. I can give it all up, Elle. I swear to you. I’ve thought
about you every single day.”

I empathized
with him for about two seconds before I snapped back to reality. “Well, you’re
a little late,” I said snidely. I sipped the last of my cocktail and nodded to
the pretty female bartender, who offered me another.

        
“You’re
with someone else?” he asked.

        
He
looked at me with his piercing green eyes. I’d almost forgotten how alluring
they were. Beneath them his chiseled features showed some remorse. Again I felt
for him. Being that good-looking almost certainly came with its own set of
challenges; he probably never had to deal with the emotional garbage that us
non-Greek gods and goddesses did. I felt the bartender fixate on Jay, and again
I felt the artificial glow that came with being in his company. He was naturally
magnetic and popular. And as a girl who’d never had that before, I was
enthralled by it. That he apparently wanted me back in his life was blowing my
mind; all of it was just too much to take. All I could do was keep drinking.

“Yes, I met
someone,” I said, attempting to be a bit gentler than when I first arrived.

The bartender
brought us each new drinks and nearly tripped while watching Jay. She was
attractive, but he was unfazed. He was absorbed in me, but every few minutes I
noticed him glance at his own reflection in the adjacent window.

“It can’t be
that serious—it’s only been a few months.” He spoke convincingly.

        
“It’s
been six months. And it’s serious. He’s incredible. He’d never blow me off for
some foreign-exchange slut.” I rolled my eyes and laughed a little. Jay laughed
too and seemed happy that I was able to make light of his recklessness. He
gently shoved my shoulder, and when his skin touched mine, I felt momentarily
electrified. Our eyes met. I could tell he felt it too.

        
“I
can’t let you go again. Remember what we had?” His tone was laced with sexual
innuendo. As he spoke, he traced his index finger from my shoulder all the way
down to my wrist. I couldn’t concentrate.

        
“I
remember,” I said timidly. He’d bullied me into remembering how hot the sex was
between us; something I’d worked painstakingly to forget. But with Ryan sex was
so
wonderful too, just in a different
way—a way that made me feel
good
about myself.

        
“Of
course you do.” He still traced his fingers up and down my arm, which was
outstretched onto the bar, as if blocking him from getting too close. He took
my arm and brought my hand up to his mouth to kiss it. His lips were cool, and
they made my palms clammy. I felt warm all over and instantly became aroused.

“What we had, it
was so good, Elle. You can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it.”
 

“I’ve been
trying not to,” I said, my voice practically a whisper.

        
“Do
you want to get out of here?” he asked.

        
And
I did, I desperately did. Out of there and far away from him. Simultaneously
though, I wanted to be closer to him, even though my brain was screaming at me
to leave. I nodded yes, if only to get some fresh air. Jay paid the check, and
I waited outside. I saw the bartender attempting to chat him up through the window,
and though he smiled flirtatiously, he wasn’t obliging her. Maybe he really did
want me back.

I already had
the perfect guy, one who’d never hurt me. One who’d never strung me along or
lied to me. He’d never used me for sex or made me question for even a second
how he felt about me. Ryan had never been freaked out by his feelings for me.
He’d given me a key to his home after a month, for God’s sake. And I was seeing
Jay behind his back. But the shameful reality was that I wanted Jay too. I’d
never stopped wanting him. Ryan just distracted me. And I loved Ryan—I
really did. But there was no denying that from the moment I laid eyes on Jay
Conrad, the spark between us was intense. By contrast, I’d known Ryan for two
years before there was
anything
between us.

I agonized over
the potential fallout from my indiscretion. I never wanted to hurt Ryan, but I
was blinded by Jay’s narcotic-like sexual magnetism. My feelings for Ryan were
more subtle, but also more self-affirming. He made me content and did so just by
being himself. The relationship was effortlessness. But I didn’t pine for him
the way a drug addict pines for her poison.

“Which way is
your apartment?” Jay asked, his hand in its old familiar place on my behind.

“This way.” I
walked south back toward my building, taking a detour so as not to pass Ryan’s
restaurant.

“Is Lulu home?”

        
“It’s
Luna,” I said, shocked that he still couldn’t even remember my dog’s name. “And
yes, she is.”

        
“Shit.”

        
“What?”

        
“I’m
allergic.” Suddenly, I realized that he was kind of a pansy, albeit a hot one.
“Fuck it, I’ll deal.”

        
I
fidgeted next to him as we walked up a flight of stairs and down the hall to my
apartment. I didn’t even know why I was allowing him to come up, except that I
was basically powerless against him. He kept telling me we’d drink some wine
and talk it out, which seemed reasonable enough. But of course he had other
motives. My plan was to tell him it would never work, though why he had to come
upstairs to be told that I hadn’t worked out yet.

        
Luna
ignored Jay when we walked in, a definite indication that I was wasting my time
by allowing him in my door. I gave her a bone to occupy her while we talked and
then poured Jay and me each a glass of wine. Before I could even hand him his
glass, he was kissing me in my bright, Ikea-furnished kitchen. I couldn’t help
myself. I fell into his arms and became aware again of how lean his body was,
of his faint aroma of cologne and cigarettes, and of how he wasn’t all that
much larger than me. I continued kissing him, trying to forget the myriad of
voices screaming in my head; some said stop, while others said carry on.
    

As he reached
his cold hand up my top, I realized that touching him felt intrinsically
wrong.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t
betray Ryan, even if he’d never find out. Even though we’d only spent scarcely
more than a long summer together, it was still a very real relationship. With
the will of a recovered alcoholic, I reached down with white knuckles and
removed Jay’s hand from my chest.

        
“I
can’t do this,” I said. “I need to think.”

        
“What’s
there to think about? You want me, I want you. It’s been that way since we met.
It’s that simple. We can be together now. I’ve got it all worked out.”

        
“I’m
with someone else.”
 

        
“Yeah,
but you’re in love with me. I know you were and I believe that you still are,”
Jay said compellingly.

        
“Jay,
I know what love looks like. And not because you showed me. I think you need to
leave.”

        
“Come
on, baby,” he said, coming close to me again.

        
“You
piece of shit, get off of her,” Ryan said, appearing from nowhere.

        
He’d
come by for a coffee on his break and had seen me in the arms of my former
lover. My heart went out to him. Everything was in perspective now. He was the
one I wanted—the one I needed. Seeing them there side by side, there was
no comparison; it was Ryan or no one. But he was the picture of rage. I’d seen
him angry before, but now he was downright terrifying. His body was rigid, and
his hands were curled into fists. He was flushed, his expression stoic.

        
“Ryan,”
I said. “This isn’t what you think. He was just leaving.”

        
“You
don’t want me to leave, Elle,” Jay said. “You know you don’t.”

        
“Yes
I do! You need to go, Jay.”

        
“Remember
how much you loved fucking me. You said so yourself,” Jay said, using my own words
against me.

        
I
cringed for Ryan’s sake. The poor guy had been through enough betrayal to last
two lifetimes. I had to stop this before he got hurt any further. But before I
could act, Ryan pulled Jay by the shoulder and shoved him up against my wall,
leaving a mark from Jay’s head, probably from his expensive hair gel. He jammed
his mighty right fist into the left side of Jay’s perfectly symmetrical face,
maybe even spoiling its symmetry slightly. Jay stumbled backward a few steps,
my countertop breaking his fall. Luna barked at the two men and they stood
facing one another, their size difference evoking David and Goliath.

        
“Ryan,
nothing happened. I promise you,” I said.

        
“Did
you kiss him?” Ryan glared at me, frighteningly aggressive.

        
“He
kissed me,” I said. I couldn’t lie to him. “And it made me realize that you’re
the only one I want. Forever. I love you. I feel nothing for him.”

        
“If
you love me, then what is he even doing here? Did you know he was coming?”