If I Could Be With You (2 page)

CHAPTER Three

Hannah’s first subway ride was an experience. The R train was packed with commuters making their way into the city for various evening escapades as they headed out to meet Charlie’s friends at a Mexican place in Greenwich Village. With nowhere to sit, she ended up holding onto the hanging bar with one hand. When the car lurched forward, she fell back against him and found herself wrapped in his free arm. She thought she could make out the feel of his arousal against her backside, and tried to think of anything else. Could anyone around them see what was going on? Would they even care if they did?

“You’ll be a pro in no time. It just takes some getting used to.” He let his hand rest on her hip and she felt his even breathing on her neck. Her fantasy in the shower flashed through her mind. To distract herself, she took in the diverse nature of the passengers. Conversation in languages other than her own surrounded her. Nothing in her experience of small town Ohio compared. She felt an excitement and a strange affinity with the whole experience. This was exactly what she had hoped the subway would be.  From the loud and obnoxious, to the quiet readers, no one was afraid to go about their own lives. They weren’t even paying attention to her.

“So, where are we going and who are we meeting?”

Charlie had been pretty private regarding their plans.

“Mexican food and friends from college. You’ll love it and the Village…promise.”

When they emerged from the subway into the fading evening sun, Hannah felt deep contentment stir in her chest. This was the home she’d been looking for her whole life. The noise from the traffic, horns blaring, the smells some good, and some not, all of it felt like it fit. She looked up at the buildings, not skyscrapers as she’d expected, but still taller than what she’d grown up around.

“And you went to college here?” Her voice filled with awe. “What an amazing life you must have had.” She was almost jealous. Her hometown experience of college life had been filled with good times, but who could she have become here in this metropolis?

Charlie grabbed her hand, leading her through the throngs of people moving purposely towards their goals: families, dates, work, parties, an end of the day drink. Who knew what the evening held in store for any of them? After a short walk down tree-lined streets that seemed straight out of a film, they came across an open-air patio with patrons drinking margaritas amidst Latin music. With happy hour just beginning, they were lucky enough to get a table for four by the sidewalk.

“Two passion fruit margaritas and some chili rellano. Does that sound alright to you Hannah?” But the waiter had already turned from them. He’d just asked to be polite.

Part of her immensely disliked that he had ordered for her. Another part of her was enjoying this younger man that was so obviously in control of every part of their time together. If he was really that in control, it might not matter what she wanted when it came to sleeping with him, whether her decision was yes or no.

“You’ll love these margaritas. They were the first drink I fell in love with in the city. We’ve been coming here for years. I love being able to share it with you.”

“Do you bring Nadia here?” It was out before she could stop it. She’d expected discomfort, but received blasé at best.

“No, Nadia doesn’t drink. She’s Muslim, you know.”

No, she didn’t think she had. Had she ever had a reason to wonder? It wasn’t like she’d been pining after him for years. His life between leaving Ohio and up until last week had been a mystery to her. She vaguely remembered wedding photos at a Christmas party, but they were at a park, nothing overtly religious.

He deftly stayed relevant, but moved the subject away from Nadia. “Have you ever dated outside of your faith or race?” 

It was an interesting question. One he seemed intellectually curious about, like he wanted to discuss the idea philosophically, rather than personally. She’d begun to notice that habit in his conversation. He would ask a highly personal question, yet proceed to discuss it from his viewpoint as if it were a case to be studied.

“I have.” She didn’t want to be studied.

“Tell me about it,” he reached across the table, again taking her hand.

“I’d rather talk about you, and whether you’ve always been so physically affectionate. Is it with everyone, or just me?”

He smiled as if he’d been caught at something, but kept his hand on hers.

“A little of both, I think.” He paused and looked into her eyes, “What did you want my answer to be?”

“I don’t honestly know.” Emboldened by his gaze she continued, “If you said you were like this with everyone, it would take away the thrill of not knowing your intentions.  If you said it was just for me, the clarity of your intentions would scare me.”

He raised her hand to his lips, not kissing it, just holding it there, as if lost in thought. The waiter sat two icy orange concoctions in front of them and he released her to partake of the drink. They sipped quietly, neither knowing what the other might be thinking. Just as she was becoming uncomfortable, a feminine voice rang out from across the street.

“Charles!”

A short curvy woman in her mid-twenties crossed through traffic next to a hippie looking man who had to be at least forty.

“Melanie! Eric! Come on over. We’ve saved you seats.”

The couple made their way through the crowded patio and sat down with Eric next to Hannah, and Melanie next to this man she called Charles instead of Charlie. The flash of jealousy felt ridiculous. Melanie and Eric were obviously a couple, despite the large age difference. Why should she care who sat next to whom?

“I’d love for you both to meet the object of my teenage fantasies, Ms. Hannah Miller. Hannah, this is Eric Low and Melanie Highstreet.”

Melanie held out her hand and gave Hannah’s a quick squeeze.

“I heard all about you in college, Hannah.  I feel like we’ve already met.”

Hannah looked quickly to Charlie to see if this was a secret just spilled, but he didn’t seem embarrassed or uncomfortable. He simply smiled.

“I can’t imagine that Charles would have had much to say back then.” She used his grown up name.

He winked at her and casually moved the conversation along.

“How was your trip to Vermont?” He directed the question to Eric, but Melanie answered while Hannah sat back and sipped continuously on her margarita. The vigilant waiter brought her another, and another, as she listened to the threesome’s shared journeys.

“I think when I retire I’d like to live in Vermont, definitely someplace rural and away from the city,” Charlie said.

“But it’s so amazing here, why would you ever want to leave?” Hannah finally had the courage to jump into the conversation.

“I love the energy here, but at some point in my life, I’d like to slow down, find that peace that you can only get when you are surrounded by nature, you know?”

He was looking at her with a dreamy gaze that made his youthfulness all the more apparent. What was she doing with this kid? He was talking about a retirement that was at least eight years further off than her own.

Melanie interrupted her thoughts, “So Hannah, you’re a teacher? That must mean you get lots of travel time. How is it that you’ve never been to New York before?”

“Teaching isn’t as profitable as you might imagine,” she laughed. The margaritas were definitely easing the tension of making small talk with strangers. “I’ve been paying off student loans for years so I haven’t managed too much traveling yet. But it’s on my list.” She smiled at Charlie as she felt his foot nudge hers below the table. Accidental?  She was definitely buzzed and wasn’t sure she cared.

“I hear you with the student loans! If I hadn’t found my sugar daddy here,” she reached over and rubbed Eric’s bald head, “I’d be in a shelter for sure. Social work isn’t as profitable as you would imagine either.” She laughed and leaned back in her chair.

“That’s what I’m here for darling,” Eric dead-panned. “To fulfill your every monetary need and desire. Among other needs and desires…” His eyes took on a wicked gleam and she heard Melanie sigh.

Had she been sober, she might have started to feel a bit uncomfortable, but as it was, the feeling of Charlie’s knee pressed against hers under the table was unbearably arousing. She knew she should stop the flow of margaritas but she was on vacation and she so rarely had any fun anymore. Surely she could trust him to stop her from crossing any lines.

Before she knew what was happening, Melanie stood and reached for Eric’s hand. 

“It’s been a fabulous night and it was so good to finally meet the infamous Hannah,” she said as she held out her hand. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before you leave.”

Hannah shook it and did the same with Eric and the two turned and disappeared through the crowd.

“Lovely to meet you Hannah,” Eric called as he let himself be pulled off.

Charlie looked at Hannah, “Well, that was subtle.”

“What do you mean?”

She had been so lost in her own inner conflict about being half drunk that she hadn’t picked up on anything else around her.

“They obviously wanted some alone time?” He winked.

“Oh…oh!” She giggled in a way she only did after one too many drinks. When she heard herself she knew there was no going back. She was drunk.

“I take it you’re enjoying the passion fruit?” he asked as his hand brushed her knee, definitely on purpose.

“I am,” she reached across the table and took his other hand, brave from the drinks and the fact that they were alone again. “I’m also enjoying the fact that Melanie seems to have heard about me before. Why did you talk about me in college so much?”

He let go of her hand to pay the bill, then immediately reclaimed it.

“I’ve already confessed my school boy crush, Hannah.” He smiled a devastatingly handsome smile. “I’ve compared every woman in my life with the image of you.”

She sat in stunned silence. That was as close to as an actual confession of desire as he’d ever come with her. She knew in that instance that married or not, he was hers for the taking if she wanted him. But did she really want him?

She let her eyes roam his hard jaw and the muscles of his neck that flowed into his broad shoulders. His honey skin caught the glow of the candle on the table as his dark wavy hair blended in with the night sky. His lips were slightly parted and he stared at her with such intensity that she suddenly realized she’d stopped breathing.

“I’m a confident man, Hannah, but I’m not used to being left hanging after a confession of that magnitude.”

She shook her head to clear it.

“Restroom?” she asked as she stood, holding onto the table for balance.

“Through the double doors on the left.”

He looked disappointed. She shouldn’t have had that last drink. Her head wasn’t clear and her hormones were going crazy. She didn’t want to do anything she would regret tomorrow. 

Inside the restroom she splashed cold water on her face and readjusted her make-up. She would return to the table and act as if nothing had happened. She’d suggest they head home since they had a long sightseeing day planned in the morning. If she gave into temptation now the trip would be ruined. Her guilt over sleeping with him would never let her stay the remainder.

He was waiting for her when she came out.

“Are you alright?” He took her hand and led her into the streets of Greenwich Village. “I should have warned you about those margaritas. They sneak up on you.”

“Kind of like you?” she said without thinking.

He stopped and looked at her, head cocked questioningly to the side.

“I guess so. How did I sneak up on you Hannah?” He pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, leaving his finger to linger at her jaw. The way he looked at her made her body ache with need. She wanted him to kiss her.

“When I made my plans to come here I never thought I would be this attracted to you.” She was shocked at her own alcohol-induced honesty. She searched his eyes for a response. They darkened with desire.

“I’ve waited my whole life to hear you tell me you want me, Hannah.  I just wish you didn’t have to be drunk to say it.”

“I am drunk. I am, but I want you and I’ve wanted you since the night of the party. When you’re close to me, my body goes haywire. I’m on fire and I can barely catch my breath.”

His thumb caressed her bottom lip and she tilted her head.

“Will you still want me when you’re sober?” he asked.  

Why, oh why wouldn’t he just kiss her?

“I will still want you forever,” she whispered. “But when I’m sober, I’ll be painfully aware of how very married you are.”

He laughed at that. She found it odd that he could place so little value on his marriage. Could she actually be attracted to a man that could cheat on his wife? She felt his hand fall from her face and he put his arm around her to guide her towards the subway.

“Come with me, Hannah. We’ll put you to bed – alone – and then we’ll have a chat in the morning. If your head doesn’t hurt too much.”