I awoke this morning to the sound of a stranger’s alarm ringing on his phone.
I made sure he was awake, so he could grab the cab we’d ordered for 630 am that would take him from my condo, to his hotel, and then the airport.
Kissing, etc. until the call from the cab came, we both threw on clothes and I walked him downstairs, kissing him goodbye as he said “it was really nice meeting you.”
When FM got up three hours later, he wanted to talk. “you didn’t sleep with [him] did you because i got up in the middle of the night and he was not on the sofa…”
I was embarrassed — less that it happened, and more that I was caught — so I lied. For me and how I count such things, it’s true that while he spent the night — naked — in my bed, we didn’t really have sex. But that’s all about what the definition of is is.
It was the right thing to do, a week after FM and I formally split forever. Hooking up on a weeknight with a random guy, the friend of a friend, in town on business, both of us single. Still, getting caught was no fun.
Back to the Beginning . . .
FM flew home from nearly a week with his girl to arrive home mid-afternoon, to drop his bags and see his dog. He mentioned he had a friend in town from high school, a small religious school, with 35 people in his class.
He asked if I wanted to come, as his friend had asked FM to bring his “gorgeous ladyfriends.” I went because I was dehydrated and there was a party downtown later. Also, FM owed me money and I thought it would be easier to collect if I were with him.
I threw on a rather conservative sheath dress and drove downtown with FM to grab a quick dinner before meeting up with, let’s call him High School. I didn’t have any details on HS other than a first name, and I didn’t really care. Amusingly, FM who is now nerd-famous, was quite the nerd in high school, so the fact he and HS have become friends again was sort of nice for FM as he’s now being validated by the cool kids. (Heh.)
I expected a doughy Southern guy in his early 30s, so imagine my surprise when a very handsome, chiseled man with broad shoulders appeared. FM is 6 years my junior, so I was just happy to be hanging out with two attractive guys, drinking pint glass after pint glass of water. Over the course of our time at this spot, two more friends showed up. One who I sorta dated but not really — a gorgeous, but painfully dumb young man — and one my gf C sorted dated but not really — who is a good friend of mine and went to school with PR.
We chatted about our adventures in online dating, confirming we were both single (though I wasn’t really thinking much about him because he’s significantly younger than me), and being really honest about things in a way you don’t with someone of interest, which he wasn’t. (I am a princess, I only date ridiculously successful men, who then end up dating women who have dated other men I’ve dated. That shit.)
I had a glass of wine, and eventually we decided to move on to a party where there was to be food and drink provided. There were neither, but there was great people watching, some passed cocktails, and go go dancers.
It was here that I realized HS was leaning into me, holding on to my arm, touching my back, leaving his hand in place, etc. All of those explicit expressions of interest that are really only to be shared between the two people.
The other two guys stayed with us for an hour or more before leaving, so it was just me FM and HS. FM was dancing (badly) and we were drinking a bit. It was definitely a party. I decided, as I’d not eaten anything and my stomach was killing me, that I needed food. I picked up a burger from a food trailer, ate it, and FM decided we should hit his new favorite bar, which is styled like a cabin: cheap vintage sofas, board games, etc.
We slid into a sofa and HS began making his intentions quite obvious. His hand was on my thigh, later holding my hand, and we were sitting as closely together as possible.
FM was, apparently, oblivious. He was drinking quite heavily, and missing the fact we were snuggled together. At one point, FM got up for the bathroom and HS went to get us drinks (drink for him, club soda for me). He paused in front of me, leaned down, and said, “I just have to know.” He kissed me, and it was an amazing first kiss. I was being discreet, paying attention to where FM was — at the bar, on the patio smoking, in the bathroom. When he was gone, we kissed; when he returned, we stopped.
We had a couple of conversations about what was going to happen as it was now after 1 am. FM offers HS our sofa, though he has a hotel room it’s outside of downtown. If I am to stay with HS, I would rather cab with him to his hotel, leaving FM to cab home. But FM is now quite drunk and HS says, reasonably, let’s make sure he gets home okay.
Now I am in a very awkward position. FM is joking with HS about the lack of luxury accommodations and the sofa he’ll be sharing with the dog.
Meanwhile, I know that if HS is staying at my place, he’s going to be sleeping in my bed. It’s not a decision I am making, it’s a certainty. It is what it is. He knows it, too. We had also cleared two important things: both tested recently and not having sex. The only real question is how do we manage that with FM sleeping next door.
I ask FM for one of his pillows, which he provides, and then he goes to bed. I lead HS by the hand back to my bed and we commence an hour or so of kissing, etc., and it’s great.
Often, I pause and he is just smiling this gorgeous smile back at me, like he is the luckiest man alive. Which he sort of is.
I have the tv on to block any noise, so I hear bad comedy and then the news in the background. Around 3 we finally stop knowing we need a little sleep as he has a drive and a flight in the morning and nothing else is going to happen. I order him a cab for 630 am and we set our alarms for 6.
I fall asleep in his arms, and it feels amazing. His body, perfect. His face, handsome, and I am tucked into to his body. Except he snores a bit, and I don’t know him well enough to know how to make him stop. Eh, it happens. There were several moments where we each acknowledged “we don’t know each other well enough yet to know this but…” and there was a charm.
I sleep fitfully, but it’s nice to have this man next to me. We awake at 6 am, knowing his cab is coming in 30 minutes and we start fooling around immediately, interrupted only by the phone ringing which is his driver. We both curse our foresight in ordering it for so early, but it’s also a good thing that we have to stop.
We quickly throw on clothes and I walked him down to the awaiting cab.
We had spoken with FM at various points throughout the evening about the fact that he’ll have to come back to our town every month for the next five months, and he’d try to coordinate it with fun things to do – festivals, etc. When it was just the two of us, he whispered, maybe we don’t need to tell FM when I am in town, maybe we can just be together.
At this point, so early, it’s impossible to tell if I will ever speak to him, no less see him again. I am not counting on it, and yet, we had a great time. It was a perfect evening. It was also the perfect way to get over FM finally and completely without accidentally backsliding into something with any of the four men I am or could be dating who I have dated before.
I do hope I will see him again. He could be fun. It would never be serious, and he’s incredibly spoiled, but there’s something interesting there.