The next chapter. I am in awe of all the amazing reviews i've recieved so far and i want to thank everyone for commenting. Please continue!
The song belongs to Bob Dylan
The wind howled around me and I pulled my denim jacket closer around my body, bending my head against the wind and feeling my newly dyed hair whipping against my face. It hadn't started raining yet, thankfully, but the sky was filled with heavy dark clouds and I didn't think it would stay dry for much longer. I picked up my pace, wanting to reach the café before I got soaked. I had agreed to meet Paul here for lunch and since I had been late on our last two dates, I wanted to be on time today. A smile sprung up on my face as I thought about him. He was so unlike the guys I was used to dating and I was still unsure of whether or not it was a good thing. Since the age of thirteen, every guy I had gone out with had been a musician or into music in a big way. Listening and playing music in bands was how I had spent the majority of my adolescent and the people in my life now reflected that.
But Paul was so different and it was both exciting and scary. I knew where I stood with guys in bands. I knew how to handle them; how to pander to their ego and how to shoot them down but Paul was a whole other ball game and I couldn't help but think it was out of my league. I finally reached the café and pushed open the door, stepping inside just as a huge crack of thunder sounded and a spike of lightening cracked the grey clouds open. Huge, glassy raindrops began falling and bouncing off the ground and I sighed in relief, turning to survey my surroundings. Paul wasn't here yet and I smiled, sliding into a booth beside a window, leaning my cheek on the palm of my hand and watching the rain bouncing off the road.
"Can I get you anything dearie?" An elderly waitress, whose nametag said Maria, asked me with a smile. I shook my head and returned her smile, telling her I was waiting on someone first. She nodded at me and walked slowly away as I watched. My dad and step mom were convinced I was going to end up like that; working a minimum wage job for the rest of my life while chasing after impossible dreams. I could almost hear my dad's voice in my head, sternly telling me that I needed to go to college and grow up.
The ancient jukebox in the corner was playing an old Joy Division song and I tapped my fingers against the table in time to the beat, singing softly to myself as I waited. And waited.
Twenty minutes later I was glancing at my watch for the sixth time and I could feel my anger rising when the door opened and Paul strode inside, his hair wet and sticking to his face. His shirt was open, the blue material sticking to the white undershirt he wore and he wore cut off jeans again. I glared at him as he came closer, his mouth open in an apology.
"I'm sorry. My meeting ran over." He slid into the booth facing me, a wide grin on his face and I sighed. I could feel forgiveness bubbling in my stomach and I pouted. I didn't want to give in this quickly. I didn't want to forgive him just yet.
"Hey, you okay?" He stroked the back of my hand where it lay across the table and my scowl deepened before pulling it away.
"You're twenty minutes late, Paul." I reminded him. "I'm a little pissed off."
He hung his head slightly, running his hands through his growing hair. I smiled at the sight of the silver bracelets wrapped around his wrist, impressed that he was actually wearing them.
"I'm sorry." He told me again, softer than the first time. "But let's not forget who was late the first two dates."
I opened my mouth to argue with him before closing it again and shrugging. "Guess we're even."
"How? I was late once, you were late twice. I get another get out of being late free card." He told me with a grin that was so infectious that I couldn't help but return it.
"Yeah, but I'm a girl. I'm allowed to be fashionably late a few times. It keeps boys like you on your toes."
"Oh, is that like a girl rule or something?" He was openly laughing now and his dark eyes were lit up with mirth. He was stunning.
"Of course." I nodded. "Now let's order, I'm starving."
Paul raised a hand in the air, motioning for the waitress to take our order.
"You're not seriously going to eat all that." I told Paul once he had placed his, huge, order. He shrugged and nodded.
"Didn't I tell you I was a growing boy?" He grinned at me and I chuckled, nodding.
"But still, I didn't think you were serious."
"Completely." He told me. "Anyway, never mind the food. How was your gig?"
I smiled, stretching my arms in front of me before settling against the back of the seat. I opened my mouth to reply but as I was moving my eyes over him I picked up on the fact that he was still soaking wet.
"Jesus, Paul, you're going to get sick." I told him. He looked confused before following my eyes to his wet clothes and hair. He shrugged and shook his head.
"No, I'll be fine."
"Paul, you're soaking wet." I told him. "You need to get out of those wet clothes."
"Are you trying to proposition me, Abby?" His face was smirking but I heard the underlying heat in his voice and I was glad that I didn't blush very often. I winked at him and shrugged one shoulder.
"Maybe I am."
He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "Anyhoo, back to the topic at hand. How was the gig? And stalkers?"
I giggled and shook my head.
"Nope, not even one. I got on stage, sang my cold black heart out and then left."
He looked at me, one eyebrow quirked and I shrugged. "I just wasn't feeling it. Alex kept bothering me so I left."
"He was bothering you?" I had noticed, in the past few weeks, that when Paul got angry, his hands began to shake and that's exactly what they were doing right now. I wondered, very briefly, if it was dangerous to get involved with such an openly jealous person. I dismissed the thought as Paul closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. Leaning back against the chair, I watched as he composed himself before opening his eyes and smiling tightly at me.
"So what's the deal with Alex anyway?" He tried to sound calm but I could hear the tense undertones in his words. I took a deep breath and sighed. I usually tried to avoid talking about ex-boyfriends with current flames but if he really wanted to know.
"You really want to know?" He nodded at me, taking a deep breath as the waitress delivered our food. We ate in silence and I took the opportunity to study him as he ate. He took huge mouthfuls of his eggs and sausage and then huge gulps of milk before taking a massive bite out of his toast. I raised an eyebrow as I bit into my own toast. His dark head was bent over his plate, his attention focused completely on what he was putting into his mouth.
Despite his meal being three times as big as mine, Paul was finished by the time I began scooping my eggs into my mouth and he watched me as I quickly finished my meal.
"So." Paul started as soon as I had pushed my plate away. "Tell me about Alex."
"Why are you so interested?" I asked. Paul flushed slightly and shrugged.
"I just want to know as much as possible about you."
Silence fell as Maria the waitress picked up our plates.
"Could we get some coffee please?" I asked Maria and she smiled at me sweetly and nodded.
"It's not a huge deal, okay?" I told him, lifting a napkin and shredding it absently between my fingers as I processed the thoughts in my head.
"I met Alex when I was about fourteen and we've been on and off since then. We finished for good a year ago." I sighed and accepted the coffee Maria held out to me. "Alex was in a band with Mark and a guy called Kennedy and when I met them they asked me to sing for them so I did. Then Alex and I began getting closer and closer and when I turned fifteen we started dating for real. We were really close for about a year and a half and then the trouble started."
"Trouble?" Paul wasn't looking at me; instead his gaze was fixed on the hand clenched around his coffee cup.
"Nothing major. He started acting funny and after a few weeks I realised he was cheating on me with a girl called Mandy. She still shows up at gigs every now and then. Anyway, we ended it but every time one of my relationships ends, we end up messing around." I shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. "It's nothing meaningful and never when I'm with another guy. It's just a casual arrangement. Good for both of us."
Paul was staring at me now with a funny look on his face. "You're his fuck buddy?"
He spat the words out angrily and I recoiled as his face registered his disgust.
"Hey, don't judge me." I retorted in annoyance. "I'm a consenting adult and I want to have a friend with benefits then I can. Just because we've been on a few dates doesn't mean that I have to justify myself to you."
He glared for a few seconds before rising quickly. "I have to go."
"What…"
I watched as he slammed the door open and stormed out into the lashing rain, head bowed against the wind. I stared after him in shock. It was only after I paid the bill, that he had conveniently forgotten, and left the café that my anger began to set in. I could feel it in my stomach, churning and bubbling, as I strode across the street and towards my apartment. Who the hell did he think he was? Was he so perfect that he could look down on me for something as simple as that?
The rain was still pounding against the roof when I let myself into the apartment, slamming the door behind me and ignoring the cranky yell of my neighbour. I threw my bag onto the old armchair and began stripping off my wet clothes as I made my way towards my bedroom. I started the shower and turned my record player on, putting an old Bob Dylan record on to play and leaving the bathroom door open as I showered. As Blowin' In The Wind played throughout my house I could feel myself relaxing. I sang along quietly as I dressed in my warmest clothes; old, ripped jeans and a heavy black jumper that had belonged to my mom.
"Yes and how many times must the cannonballs fly before they're banned? The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind. The answer is blowing in the wind."
I sang as I padded around the room, picking up my dirty clothes and dropping them into the hamper. I really needed to wash them, I was almost out of clean jeans because I had been lazy recently.
"Yes and how many times can a man look up before he can see the sky? Yes and how many ears must one man have before he can hear people cry?"
I was dragging my laundry towards the front door when I heard the gentle tapping sound and I froze, mid note, with my mouth hanging open as I searched for the origins of the noise. It came again, from the kitchen, and I made my towards it. I looked around the kitchen for a feasible weapon and picked up the baseball Alex had left here months ago, swinging it in my hands for practise before heading towards the window. My apartment was on the third floor of the complex and the back of it boarded onto a dense forest area so as I entered the kitchen I tried to assure myself that the gently tapping sound was a tree branch hitting against the window and I almost screamed in terror at the sight of Paul sitting, perfectly balanced, on one of the thicker branches.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed as I threw open the window. He climbed in gracefully, shaking out his hair and spraying me and the floor with water. He smiled at me sheepishly as I glared at him,
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have taken off like that but the thought of you and Alex and… I'm sorry. I have a bit of a temper." He was flushed and as he apologized he reached for my hand, curling it inside his own, much larger one. His hand was amazingly warm and I hissed slightly at the contact before relaxing into the touch. Paul's temperature, I had noticed, ran noticeably higher than anyone's I had ever met. He was, literally and figuratively, smoking hot.
"Look, we need to get a few things straight." I told him, pulling my hand away. I slammed the window closed again and shivered, making my way towards the living room. I glanced around and flushed suddenly when I realised that my laundry had left a trail behind; a trail of lace panties and silk bras. It was lying across the hall as we moved past it and I prayed Paul wouldn't notice but naturally he did. The sound of a snicker made me scowl at him and he straightened his face as he followed me.
"Nice undies." He smirked.
"Too bad an attitude like that means you never get to see them on me." I retorted, sitting facing me.
"I'm more interested in getting them off you." He replied with a wicked grin.
"Yeah? Maybe you had a chance. Until you stormed out like a psycho stalker at the café, leaving me to pay by the way." I told him. The smirk fell off his face and he frowned, looking down.
"I know and I'm sorry. I had no right to act like that. It's just, I have a little bit of a temper and the thought of that loser being near you just irked me. It won't happen again."
"It had better not." I warned him. "Now, you want a cup of coffee?"
"I'd love one." He grinned at me, standing and following me towards the kitchen again. "Hey, are you really not going to pick all those up?"
"Nope." I replied, with a confidence that I didn't really feel. I tossed him a wink over my shoulder and continued down the hall.
Author's Note: I have found my perfect Paul. His name is Eric Schweig. he's a little old now but search for pix of him in Last of the Mohicans. He's perfect!