What Love Looks Like Read online

  17

  I awoke dumbfounded the morning after Ryan kissed me. The encounter was almost comical if only for its impulsiveness. There I was, unkempt and at a turning point; and there he was, tidy and professional, always the picture of poise. I didn’t know what to make of it. I wasn’t sure if it happened because we’d been drinking, or if there was more to it than just elevated blood alcohol levels. One thing I knew for sure, though, was that Ryan’s scent was mouthwatering. His cologne was so faint that it was barely detectable, but it lingered in my nose until the morning. I also knew that it was a good kiss, at least as good as a first kiss could be.

  Perhaps the best part was that Jay was gradually starting to become more of a memory, and I could focus clearly on the changes that needed to be made. I felt that I had Ryan to thank for my peace of mind. For some odd reason, kissing him had brought me a sense of lucidity that was previously foreign to me. I would, however, have to work with him following the kiss. I always found it awkward facing someone the day after I hooked up with him. Granted a kiss wasn’t really hooking up, but the feeling was the same; it was still an unplanned moment of intimacy with someone I considered a friend and colleague.

  After the kiss, Ryan took to calling my office every single day, sweetly saying that he’d called not for anything work related, but just to hear the sound of my voice. It was a romantic gesture, but were we going in the direction of romance or not? It appeared that Ryan thought it was game on, but I wasn’t so sure. His attentions were sudden and overwhelming, and more than Jay had ever done.

  Romance or not, I was perplexed. My feelings for Jay hadn’t vanished completely. He’d hit me so hard, like a freight train. And after having been knocked down with such an impact, I couldn’t make my feelings disappear on command, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t eliminate every trace of the attraction I'd had for him by sheer will and determination. Granted, I still hadn’t heard from him– not via phone, text, or Facebook. And it still pained me to think about it when I dwelled on it for too long. My wounds were still open, and they blocked me from seeing the situation with Ryan clearly. As much as I appreciated the distraction that Ryan provided, I was still dealing with the rejection and the fact that Jay never gave me one iota of closure.

  The phone on my desk rang. I saw on the caller ID that it was Ryan’s restaurant. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Elle.”

  “Hi, Ryan,” I said coyly.

  “How is your day going?”

  “It’s good—a little slow, though.”

  “I had to hear your voice again.”

  I blushed and smiled. Maybe he did have some sort of effect on me. I just didn’t know if it was strong enough to jeopardize our friendship.

  “Well that’s sweet,” I said.

  “Ah, I try. So when are you going out with me again?”

  “Technically, I didn’t go out with you the first time. We ran into each other.”

  “That’s just semantics. I’d like to see you again, outside of work.”

  Ryan asked me out nearly every time we spoke. I put him off time after time, saying that our working relationship was an obstacle to there being more between us. Of course, that was only a half-truth. I wasn’t opposed to getting to know Ryan better, but my lukewarm feelings for him paled in comparison to how I’d felt about Jay from the moment I laid eyes on him. Within seconds, I was smitten. But perhaps hankering after someone the way I had with Jay wasn’t the ideal way to start a relationship. Maybe my feelings for Jay were too strong. My fascination with him had been out of proportion to what he’d brought into my life. I’d immediately put him on a pedestal, one that he didn’t deserve to rest on. My lust for him ended up screwing me and clouding my judgment. Maybe starting a relationship as friends was preferable to starting one as lovers.

  I had to acknowledge that there was a certain scandalous quality to a romantic relationship with a coworker. And I could already see it being played out between Ryan and me. I felt that I was doing something bad—sticking it to the man (my corporate bosses)—and I liked it. Every time Ryan called me at my office, he would speak quietly so as not to tip off his staff about who was on the other end. In person we’d sneak glances at one another. While I was unsure exactly how I felt about Ryan, I was enjoying the situation and I appreciated his approach.

  Ryan was clearly a stand-up guy, as I knew from his actions and other people’s opinions of him. His staff loved working for him. He didn’t party until all hours of the night. He didn’t date multiple women at one time (unlike some other men I knew), and he called regularly. He wasn’t big on texting, which I viewed as a good thing. Plus, I’d gotten to know him as a person before I knew him sexually or romantically, and I liked what I saw. Although I didn’t want “to mix business and pleasure,” if I didn’t go out with him again soon he might lose interest completely. So about two weeks after the kiss, I took Ryan up on his suggestion of having drinks at Smith & Wollensky.

  Our date fell on a pleasant spring evening. The air was getting warmer, and longer days were upon us. It was nearly sixty degrees and clear outside. I wore plain black pumps with dark True Religion jeans. My hair was wavy, and I’d barely touched up my makeup since applying it that morning. Unlike my dates with Jay, I put little thought into what I’d wear out with Ryan, since I wasn’t overly concerned with him judging me. After all, he had already known me for two years, which meant he’d seen me during PMS, countless hangovers, and on days when I went to work dead tired. He’d even kissed me in while I was wearing yoga pants and rain boots, so I figured I could only rise in his estimation from there.

  Smith & Wollensky was one of my favorite restaurants in Columbus and was also East Coast Prime’s direct competition. We were often encouraged by corporate to visit the competition and report back. I would have been more inclined to do so, however, if they’d helped us with the bill. East Coast, as well as its competitors, had exceptionally steep menu prices. Ryan of course, being the more diligent, less disgruntled employee, had probably selected the restaurant precisely because it was the competition. He rarely had nights off to shop his competition, so I couldn’t fault him for trying to kill two birds with one stone.

  I ordered a glass of Sauvignon Blanc while I sat and waited for him at the outdoor bar, where a toasty gas lamp cranked out heat next to me. My mind turned to the winter, the comfortable, isolating season to which I was so attached. Did I actually love winter so because it was more conducive to being alone? Maybe my never-ending need to hide myself so that I wouldn’t get hurt was reason I was nearly twenty-nine and still single. I knew I had to literally put myself out there, and maybe embracing spring was a good way to start.

  It was late in the season, and that spark of romance was in the air. I hadn’t told anyone at work yet that I’d been talking with Ryan outside of the office; not even Maureen or Jenna knew my whereabouts that evening. After the humiliation of being blown off by Jay, I had decided to keep any new relationships to myself until I was sure they were more than just flings. Ryan didn’t seem like the fling type, but it was still too soon to be sure. My gut told me that he was different, but men never ceased to shock and amaze me.

  Ryan arrived shortly after I did, still in his shirt and tie, his sport coat removed. His sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows, and he looked calm and handsome. He waved and smiled when he saw me from across the bar. For a moment, I felt butterflies in my stomach at the sight of him. I almost couldn’t believe it was really happening. I was going out on a legitimate date with Ryan. And I was actually excited about it! He seemed eager, and he was always such a gentleman. So how could spending an evening with him be a bad thing?

  “Fancy meeting you here,” I said as he approached me.

  “How kind of you to finally give me the time of day.”

  Ryan had tried repeatedly to make the evening into a dinner date, but I wanted to take things slow and steady. Even now, if Jay had requested a dinner date, I would have been on a plane in tw
o seconds flat; but that was because he was like a drug to me and not because I really believed he deserved my company. I had to treat my separation from Jay like a twelve-step program: one day at a time.

  “So how’ve you been?” Ryan asked, as though we hadn’t spoken every day for the past two weeks.

  “It’s been an underwhelming few weeks at the office.”

  It was nearly impossible not to talk business with him. It was one of the major things that I knew for sure we had in common. Work had been slow that spring and tended to get even slower in the summers, so I figured it was okay to vent about it. East Coast Prime was more the pinstripes-and-high-heels-by-the-fireplace kind of atmosphere, which didn’t necessarily suggest breezy spring nights of sipping sangria at an outdoor bar.

  “You look incredible,” Ryan said.

  He was obviously just being polite, but it was sweet of him to say it. It was fun being on a date again, and regardless of what happened between us, Ryan was great company. He was talkative and gregarious once I really got to know him and not at all who I thought he was for the first year and a half of our working relationship.

  He settled into his seat and told me about his day. He claimed it was a short one for him, though I didn’t consider ten hours short. I liked listening to him talk, though, and he so rarely complained about anything. He had a pleasant way of describing people. He complimented his assistant managers, always willing to give credit where it was due and not feeling that he alone was responsible for the massive success of his restaurant. He was eons away from the aloof, removed person I’d once thought he was. I’d completely misjudged him and wished I’d realized it sooner.

  “So, why were you so standoffish toward me at first?” I asked, after a glass and a half of wine and no dinner.

  “What do you mean? I’m not standoffish.”

  “I was afraid to talk to you for my first six months.”

  “Really? Wow, that’s a terrible way to present myself.” He looked defeated, and I felt guilty for bringing it up.

  “Well, in your defense, I’m sensitive,” I said, trying to make him feel better.

  “I’m just serious about my job, I guess. I’m there to work.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “Plus, I was attracted to you from the first day you walked into my restaurant. And given my past relationships, I typically avoid women at all costs.”

  “So then what are we doing here?”

  He took his time coming up with a response. “After that night at Marcella’s and that kiss,” he said, and I blushed, “I couldn’t help myself. I had to see you again. You only live once, right?”

  Ryan talked more about his work and personal life, speaking candidly about how one had deeply affected the other. Talking about past relationships had me wondering what we really were doing there. We were treading a fine line between being coworkers who might casually hook up and two people on a real date. I enjoyed his company, and physically, he was attractive. But there was no denying that it was different with Jay. I still lusted for Jay. My loins were actually affected by the very thought of him. I wanted to breathe his air, bask in his atmosphere, and drink his bathwater. But I just had to keep reminding myself that he didn’t feel the same. And on top of that, my love for him was so fundamentally rooted in sexual attraction that I wasn’t even certain how authentic it had ever been.

  As the night went on, I continued to grow fonder of Ryan with every sentence he spoke, but I still wasn’t entirely sure of the nature of that fondness. We still hadn’t kissed since that first night in the park, and we seemed to have been dancing around kiss number two all night. I wanted to see if any feelings bubbled up—without the influence of three vodka martinis—from kissing him. Finally, while I was in the middle of explaining my theory that entrepreneurialism provided more job security than traditional employment, Ryan leaned close to me and planted his lips onto mine. It felt lovely, almost heavenly in fact.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I had to do that.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I liked it.” And I really did! It didn’t feel wrong or subpar at all, it just felt pretty great.

  He kissed me again. For a moment I forgot all about our surroundings. I liked kissing him. So I kept on doing it. Sure, I was confused, but not unhappy. I’d gone through so many emotions in the months leading up to that moment. Could Ryan really be someone I could trust my heart with? I was wine-drunk, which was preferable to vodka-drunk, and that made it less awkward. But what would happen if it ended disastrously and we had to continue on as colleagues? Despite my hang-ups, we kissed a little more, and I grew quite comfortable with having his tongue in my mouth. And somewhere in between kisses, Ryan paid the check and gave me directions to his townhouse, where I found myself twenty minutes later.

  He beat me there and waited for me outside so that we walked in together. He briefly showed me around, but then when we got to the second floor where the living room was, I couldn’t wait any longer. I was thrilled to be at his home, in his company. I felt attracted to him, turned on, in fact, and I leaned into him and began kissing him more. It felt easy and natural, inviting and relaxing. And I wasn’t worried about being a good kisser or whether or not I sounded sexy when I moaned. I just kissed him with my whole heart. We sat on his couch, kissing vigorously, when abruptly I realized that his dog was nowhere in sight.

  “Where’s Woody?” I asked, pushing gently away.

  “He’s at the kennel this weekend. I had too many long days to leave him here alone.” He didn’t seem even remotely annoyed that I’d interrupted our make out session. While he spoke, he was rubbed my back with his warm, strong hands. He was a protector, a provider. I could sense his good nature and felt him taking care of me with his touch, and it felt wonderful.

  “That’s so sad that he has to go back and forth. Poor baby,” I said.

  “I know. I hate when I get home and he’s not here.”

  “Remind me to give you my dog walker’s name.”

  We talked for a few minutes longer until I started to feel light-headed. As I gently began falling asleep, his burly arms encircled me. It was a magnificent feeling to be wrapped in the arms of someone so nurturing and kind. I wasn’t sure whether or not he was nodding off too, but he certainly lay still enough for me to fall asleep to his quiet breathing. It was nearly midnight, and I knew that I should get up and go home, but I was just so damn comfortable.

  What felt like seconds later, I woke with a shudder. “Oh my God, I have to get to Luna!” I got up quickly and looked at the clock, which read three thirty in the morning.

  “Huh?” Ryan squinted through sleepy eyes at me, patting the back of my hair.

  “I have to go home. Luna’s been alone all night. I feel terrible!”

  “She’ll be fine. It’s too late for you to drive.”

  “No, I have to go. The poor thing is probably freaking out. I’m such a negligent pet owner!”

  “Hardly. You’re amazing.”

  He rubbed my back some more and pulled me in for more of his soft kisses. It was nearly impossible to leave his arms; they were just so comfy. I could have slept with him on his couch all night, but I knew that being a good parent to Luna took priority over anything else.

  “I’m so sorry I woke you.” I collected my purse, along with everything that had spilled out of it.

  “Don’t be,” he said, smiling groggily. “I’d be angry if you left without kissing me goodbye. I had an awesome time.”

  “So did I.” Awesome was an understatement.

  18

  In the weeks that followed, Ryan and I had countless dates, each better than the one before. Mostly, they consisted of late nights filled with kissing on Ryan’s couch and sipping wine on his deck. It was the first time I’d ever really been myself in front of a guy. It was like nothing I’d ever known before. It just felt right down to the core. By the official start of summer, we were a bona fide couple. We agreed to maintain confidentiality at work, partly to avoid dr
ama and partly because the sexiness of sneaking around hadn’t worn off yet. There was just one slight problem: we’d gone out on seven legitimate dates, but I had yet to sleep with him. Another seven dates equated to about three weeks, which in my mind translated to eternity. I’d learned my lesson from Jay that having sex too soon resulted in a sex-centric relationship. But now that Ryan had passed test after test, I found myself getting antsy.

  I broke down and told Maureen about my new relationship with Ryan. And I only did so because, given how much time we spent together, it was virtually impossible to hide anything from her. I didn’t tell any of my college friends or my sister because I didn’t want to jinx anything by answering too many questions or putting too much pressure on the relationship. I avoided telling Jenna too, since she was a busybody. I figured it was best to wait until I was sure it was going somewhere. But after seven dates, no sex, and Ryan still acting like a perfect gentleman, I figured it was safe to let Maureen in on my secret.

  “I think I’m ready to sleep with Ryan,” I said out of the blue on a Friday.

  We were just hours away from Memorial Day weekend, and Ryan and I were finally going to get a few days off to spend together. One of our schedules was always getting in the way of connecting for anything longer than an evening, but finally we’d get to hang out like a normal couple during the holiday. And I was stoked. Maureen thought that I should refrain from having sex for as long as humanly possible, but I decided that I’d held out long enough.

  “How many dates are we up to?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Seven! I’m dying here, Mo. I really want to be with him. This is the perfect weekend. There’s just that romantic feeling in the air.”