Translation of Love

Without a doubt, this has been the longest week of my life. I’ve been going on autopilot, just running through the motions, for the past four days. Now that it’s Friday, I don’t know what to do with myself. Victor sent me a text message while I was at work letting me know that he was back in town and checked into the hotel. That message sent both a jolt of panic and a surge of excitement rushing through my system. It’s like everything having to do with him is a battle that wages inside of me. A fight between fear and a real desire to get to know him. Letting the desire win out takes a lot out of me but I promised myself that I would at least try to allow myself this, even if it’s just for a short while.

I made plans to meet Victor at his hotel. I’m tired from a long work week and the thought of going out to dinner tonight is not appealing to me. If someone would have told me a week ago that I would be volunteering to meet a hot guy in his hotel room, I would have thought they were crazy. Yet, here I am standing in a hotel elevator doing exactly that. The elevator dings, alerting me that I’ve arrived on the top floor. My heart rate spikes when the doors slide open. My feet are like cement blocks weighing me down. The fear is like a vine slowly wrapping around my limbs, keeping me rooted to my spot. I can tell it’s the beginning of a panic attack. I haven’t had one in so long, I’d forgotten how they felt. I do the breathing technique my old therapist taught me a few years back. Breathe in for three seconds, hold it for three seconds, release for three seconds. I do this a couple of times and slowly the panic starts to rescind. I regain control of myself and realize the elevator doors have closed. After a few more breaths, I push the button to open the doors again.

Moments later, I’m in front of Victor’s door, hoping that I’ve managed to calm down enough that he won’t sense something’s wrong. I give myself a mental pep talk and lightly knock. Victor opens the door and the sight of him causes my breath to catch. Instantly, the panic that threatened to cripple me just moments ago is gone. The smile on his face tells me that everything is going to be okay. I’m not sure why he has a calming effect on me but it’s a welcome surprise.

“Hi, Babe,” he says. Instinctively, I walk into his arms. He wraps his arms around me, kisses the top of my head and asks, “Ellie, you okay?”

I tilt my head back so that I’m looking at his warm eyes. “I’m good. I’m glad you’re here,” I say softly.

He gives me a tight squeeze. “Me too,” he replies, loosening his hold on me. “Come on in. You hungry?”

“Starving,” I say with a nod.

“I am too. Whatcha in the mood for?” he asks like he actually cares. I’m not used to men caring about what I want.

“How about Chicken Parm?” I’m surprised that I’m even willing to offer a suggestion. My usual reply would be, “Whatever you want.”

“Chicken Parm, it is then.”

Victor saunters across the room. I can’t help but notice how his blue t-shirt hugs his chest. The dark wash jeans he’s wearing hang a little low. He sits on the couch next to me after our dinner has been ordered. I notice the air of confidence around him, how he carries himself with ease. He’s in control of every movement of his body, it’s almost graceful. He knows exactly what he’s doing and I wonder if it’s from years of putting on a performance in front of an audience. Whatever it is, it’s definitely a good look on him. He reaches over and pulls my hand into his. It makes me smile because I’ve come to expect this gesture from him in the short amount of time I’ve spent with him.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, bringing me out of my semi daze.

“I’m okay, why?”

He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “You just seemed…I don’t know upset maybe, when I opened the door.”

F*ck. He did notice that I was off earlier. “I’m sorry.” I divert my attention from his eyes down to the ground. “I’m fine, really. I guess I was a little nervous.” It’s true, I was nervous, but it was much more than that. I was on the verge of a full on panic attack, though I would never admit that to him.

“Hey,” he calls softly, pulling my chin up with a gentle tug of his hand on my chin. “You don’t have to be sorry. I was a little nervous too.”

He seems like such a good guy, the kind of guy who will do whatever it takes to make sure that you feel safe. The kind of guy who will calm your fears and hold your hand through the hard stuff. A guy like my dad was with my mom. A guy that I was sure a few days ago was impossible to find. I push these thoughts out of my head before the confusion grabs hold of me. I focus on what he’s just admitted to me.

“You were nervous?” I ask in a “yeah right” kind of tone.

“Yeah, I think maybe it was just the anticipation, driving down here earlier and then waiting for you to get here. Kind of did a number on my head.”

“Really?” I’m stunned by his admission.

He nodded his reply. “Then I saw your face, and all the nerves went away. I was just happy to see you.”

“Me too.” I look into his milk chocolate eyes and I see a change happen. They go from warm and sweet to heated, full of hunger. He wants to kiss me. I can tell just by that look. It weakens my already flimsy defenses. His lips brush against mine. The sensation stirs something inside of me, leaving me wanting more. I know he’s holding back for my sake, he’s keeping his promise of proceeding with caution. Before I can seek any further connection, a knock on the door brings us back to reality. He puts his forehead against mine and smiles. It’s a simple touch but it seems almost as intimate as his kiss.

“Food’s here,” he whispers. He moves to answer the door. He motions the room service attendant in and instructs him on where to arrange the food. We eat together and I tell Victor all about my week at work, explaining in detail what I do, my responsibilities and my work schedule. I talk to him about my house, how it was abandoned and in shambles, how it was a labor of love for me to fix it up. I’m careful to give him only pieces of my life, the ones that are free of demons, my constant insomnia and soul crushing memories.

Victor describes his apartment in New York. He likes the convenience of being centrally located but he doesn’t feel at home there. He tells me about the progress he’s made in the recording studio over the last few days. He tells me more about his mother and brother and how close they are. When he’s done talking, I feel like I’ve made a real connection to him. He has many sides but he’s not ashamed or afraid to share any of them. I’ve known that with every passing hour I’ve spent with him, the questions were coming. Questions that I have no desire to entertain or to answer, because those answers will lead to those pieces of my life that I’m so adamant to bury. I know those questions are coming but it still surprises me when he asks.

“When was your last real relationship, Ellie?” It’s not a bad or difficult question to answer, but that one question opens the door to a whole stream of more uncomfortable questions. I take a minute and decide to answer him truthfully.

“Uh, a little over two years.”

“Did you love him?”

I can feel the heat taking hold of me. I know that if I don’t put an end to this, I may actually have a panic attack this time. I can feel the walls around me coming up, my defenses intact. I wonder if he can see the shift in my attitude now. It’s normally imperceptible to anyone but me, but I know he has a way of seeing through me at times. “Ugh, I don’t wanna talk about him. I’m sorry, it’s just that he was a douchebag and I’d rather not even think about him at all.” That’s about as honest as I can be without telling him to mind his own business.

He’s staring at me, his eyes give nothing away. He gives me a barely there smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, which lets me know that he’s questioning my apprehension but I know he’s not gonna push it any further. “Of course. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” I can sense the change in his tone but I’m not sure what it is. Disappointment maybe, because he’s such an open book and I’m like a diary with a lock that only I hold the key to.

I know I have no right to ask but I do anyway. “What about you? When was your last relationship?”

He doesn’t flinch. “A little over a year ago. I was on tour and gone all the time. Her job didn’t allow her to travel with me at all and the time apart put too much of a strain on the relationship. She wanted to be my first priority at a time when it was just not possible.”

“That’s kind of sad,” I say because it is.

“I don’t know. I think it just wasn’t meant to be. If we had been right for each other, we would have made it work.”

“Even so, it has to be rough with your career to have a steady relationship.” I’m digging now, trying to get some insight on what it would be like to be a permanent fixture in his life. I regret the comment as soon as it leaves my mouth. I have no right to bring it up because I’m not capable of thinking of myself as a permanent anything to him.

He looks thoughtful. He wants to say something but is afraid of how I’ll react to it. “You know I like you right? I wanna see where this can go between us and I’m okay with taking things as slow as you need them to go. But I would hate for my career to scare you off before you give me a chance. Things are a lot less hectic for me than they were a year ago, Ellie. Back then, I was on a world tour. My life was like a circus. It’s nothing like that now. I’m recording my album and that’s my primary focus. I do that mostly in the evenings and during the week which allows me a lot more free time.”

“But won’t it go back to being a circus when you release this album? Won’t you have to go back on tour?”

“I haven’t committed to that. I’m contractually obligated to release one more album, and that’s what I intend to do. Will I promote it? Yes. But not to the extent that I did the last one. I don’t have it in me to be on the road nonstop for two years. If I do a tour, it will be on a much smaller scale.”

This is a lot of information to take in. I know that I shouldn’t care what his schedule will be. I’m living in the present and that’s all that I’m able to focus on. I can’t force myself to question what will be in the future. I know that in his own way, he’s telling me that he will make time for me if this thing between us goes anywhere. This knowledge shouldn’t affect me but it does and what it makes me feel is an emotion that I can’t even name. I realize that I haven’t commented on what he’s said to me, but really what is there to say?

He tugs at a strand of my hair. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? Did I completely scare you off?”

“No. You haven’t scared me off,” I whisper.

Victor tilts his head to the side, his eyes hooded, and the anticipation is excruciating. My lips tingle with need. I can feel his before they even touch mine and when they do it’s electric. Every part of me is lit up and I can feel the moisture build in my most intimate parts. I open my mouth, giving him easy access. As his tongue surges forward, he groans at the taste of me. He leans down until I’m lying on the couch with him on top of me. The feel of his weight on me is perfection. I spread my legs so that he can shift his body to rest between them. His left hand has a firm grip on my hair, while his right hand slowly trails from my shoulder down to my hip. The kiss is intense, fueled by a mutual yearning and I submit to it freely. My hands move to circle his waist. I tug his t-shirt free from his jeans, my hands graze up to his broad shoulders, roaming up and down the length of his muscular back. It’s not lost on me that he’s still holding back for my benefit. He is taking things slow because he’s figured out that I’m skittish. His hand at my hip starts to move up, grazing over my belly and slowly traveling up until he’s cupping my breast. I moan at the sensation that his touch elicits from my body. Victor’s hand goes down again, this time finding its way under my shirt. He cups my breast again, rolling my still covered nipple between his fingers, breaking my trance.

I jerk my mouth away and push myself up. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I say, embarrassment evident on my cheeks.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

“It’s okay. Really, it’s not your fault, it’s mine. I just…”

“You don’t need to explain, Love,” he whispers as he brings his forehead to mine. He cups my face in his hands and gives me a gentle kiss.

“I should go. It’s getting late and I’m tired.” My instinct to flee kicks in.

“Don’t go. Spend the night with me.” I can’t see myself but I’m sure that I look like a dear in headlights. His request leaves me wide eyed and frozen. He knows that if he lets me leave tonight, he may never see me again. He’s not wrong. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

I shake my head at him. “Then what is it?”

“Look, I’m only here for a few days and I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can. I thought you could spend the night then we could go get some breakfast in the morning and spend the day together. I promised you that we would take things slow and I meant it.”

“You just want to sleep together without…sleeping together?”

“Yeah. Alright, maybe kiss too,” he says with a boyish grin.

I’m scared to let myself give in to what he’s asking me but I really want it too. I believe him when he says he won’t do more than kiss me. I like the idea of lying next to him while I go to sleep and seeing his face first thing in the morning. I’m shocked at myself for thinking these things but I decide to go with it. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“You will?” I can hear the excitement in his voice.

I nod once. “But I need to go home in the morning to shower and get a change of clothes.”

I can see the satisfaction on Victor’s face. He had been preparing himself to convince me. I can tell he’s relieved that I agreed so easily. He holds my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I can make that happen.”

We stay on the couch together for a while longer, lounging around and watching a movie. He’s sitting upright on one end. I’m not sure how but he’s managed to get me snuggled into his side. I’ve never snuggled up to someone like this before. I had no idea it could be this nice, calming. He runs his fingers through the loose strands of my hair. My mind starts to drift away from the movie playing in front of me and before long I’m asleep.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep but a strong pair of arms lifting me up and carrying me across a darkened room, wakes me up. I remember where I am, with Victor in his hotel room. Instinctively, my arms tighten around his neck.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay, I can walk,” I say, whispering my reply.

He shakes his head denying my request. Before I know it, he’s setting me down on the enormous bed. I’ve never seen a bed quite this big before. I feel like I could get lost in it. He kisses my cheek and gives me a small smile that tells me he would like to do a lot more than share a bed with me. “You want one of my t-shirts to sleep in? It might be a little bit more comfortable than what you’re wearing.” Having Victor this close to me makes me dizzy. I almost wish I could let go of all of my fears and let him have his way with me.

“A t-shirt would be great, thanks.”

He rummages through his bag, then hands me a t-shirt. “You can change in here. I’ll change in the bathroom to give you some privacy.”

“Thank you.”

Once Victor’s gone, I quickly change into the shirt he gave me, hop into bed and pull the covers over me. I’m mentally kicking myself for letting him convince me to spend the night with him. When he’s around me, I find myself agreeing to things I normally wouldn’t.

The light from the bathroom door opening snaps me out of my thoughts. Victor comes back into the room wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging pajama bottoms. My mouth goes dry and my breathing becomes irregular at the sight of him. I’d felt him underneath his shirt but nothing could prepare me for the sight of his perfectly chiseled chest, ripped abs and the sexy V of his hipbones that meet the waistband of his pajama. It’s impossible not to stare. He must spend hours at the gym for a body like that. All of a sudden, I feel self conscious. What the hell could he possibly want with me when he’s carrying all that around? The man is flawless and I am…well, I’m not.

Wordlessly, he strides across the room, pulls back the covers and gets into bed beside me. I struggle to steady my breathing and regain my composure. We’re lying face to face now. I can barely make out his features in the dark but I can see his eyes on mine. He runs his hand through my hair, and my breath catches as he grasps the nape of my neck. He gives me a tug that’s both tender and possessive and all of a sudden, my lips are on his. One hand in my hair, the other on the small of my back, slowly he trails down to my leg and pulls it so that it’s draping over his, tangling us together. God, I never liked kissing before I met Victor, but I could do this with him all night. Kissing him is like a release. It makes me wonder what doing other things with him would do to me. I’m trying to keep my defenses up but each time we kiss, it’s like going a round in a boxing match. The more rounds we go, the more my defenses weaken. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. He pulls his lips away from mine, places a kiss on my cheek, my nose, my forehead. “Good night, Ellie,” he says softly.

“Good night, Victor.” I rest my head on his chest, liking the feel of being wrapped in his arms. I start to doze off again, having one last thought before I do. “I think I’m in trouble.”