We reached his apartment door on the second floor and Reese unlocked it. Apartment 207. For some reason, I'd always wondered where he lived and had sometimes imagined what it would look like. I knew he didn't live like my family did – in a nice, two story house in the suburbs – but I always wondered what his life might be like. Part of my interest in Reese was that he was so different than me. I'd never met someone like him before. All of the guys I went to school with were preppy and well-off, living in houses that resembled my own. We were all very much the same, living the same cookie cutter existences – but Reese was different.
I think that's what caught Luke's attention too. My brother so badly wanted to be someone else, to not be the loser in a family of winners. Reese offered him that, but little did Luke know, Reese was still the better person. Because in the end, Reese could hold down a job and lived relatively well for someone on his own in the city. Unlike my brother, Reese wasn't relying on somebody else to buy his toilet paper for him.
Reese's apartment wasn't what I expected, though. I guessed that I'd sort of figured flashy car and the expensive shoes meant he was well-off. But he lived in a studio apartment that was a little beat up and run down. There was a futon folded down into a bed already against one wall, a 52-inch flat screen tv hanging on the wall opposite the bed. And there was an Xbox hooked up beneath it. He had expensive electronics, but everything else seemed to be somewhat lacking.
Perhaps it was less about not having the money, however, and more about where his priorities were at.
“Want something to drink?” he asked, opening up the fridge. He pulled out a beer and offered it to me.
“Uhh no thanks,” I said. “Just some water, please.”
Reese reached over his head into the cabinet above the fridge and pulled out a plastic cup that said Bernie's Burgers on it. He handed it to me and I just stared at him blankly.
“Oh, sorry, I don't have any ice or anything,” he mumbled.
“Oh, okay.”
I walked into the kitchen and turned on the tap, filling up the cup. My hands were shaking to the point that I was slopping water out of the cup – I just didn't exactly know why they were shaking so badly.
“You know, maybe I'll take a beer instead,” I said, biting my lip.
Deep down, I was hoping the beer might calm my nerves a bit – or just numb them altogether. I needed to loosen up. I came to Reese's knowing what was likely going to happen, and yet, there I was – terrified. I needed to chill out, relax a bit. Maybe a beer would do the trick, even if I hated the taste.
“Here ya go, beautiful,” he said, handing me the beer.
I put the cup in the sink, and Reese took my hand again, this time leading me into the room that served as his living room and bedroom. He smiled at me – that boyish smile that often caused me to go weak in the knees.
He gave me an enigmatic, but still somehow salacious smiled. “Come over here, sexy.”
Not like I was going anywhere. Not now, anyway. I followed him over to his futon, which was actually really comfortable once we sat down upon it. It was softer and fluffier than I imagined it to be. And the view from his bed was of the city street – which was alive and full of people and cars. Even at that hour. It was nice, actually. Not what I was used to, but it was nice.
The shaking in my hands stopped long enough for me to take a drink from the bottle of beer. I tried very hard to hide my disgust as I swallowed the beer down. Reese laughed and took the bottle from my hands.
“Not your cup of tea, huh, baby?”
“Not really,” I said, trying not to blush.
“That's fine,” he said. His hand moved from my hand, up my arm and he started s
troking my shoulder as he leaned forward, his delicious lips inches from my own. “We don't need to do much drinking anyway.”
His hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into him. He kissed me long and hard. It was dizzying and full of passion. His tongue danced with mine, sending me my head spinning. This wasn't real. I wasn't actually about to have sex with a man I'd fantasized about for so long – was I? It was all a dream. Had to be. Just another fantasy, right?
Except, in my fantasies, we were never in a crappy studio apartment on a futon. We were somewhere more romantic, somewhere more luxurious than that. No, the fact that we were in that crappy studio, on that futon meant it had to be real. And the realness of the moment hit me hard, making me pull away, just to gasp for air and get my bearings again.
“What's wrong?” Reese asked, staring deep into my eyes. “You okay?”
“Nothing,” I muttered. “I'm just – well –”
I wasn't sure if telling him I was a virgin would be a good or a bad thing. I mean, I didn't want to scare him off. But if we did end up having sex, he was going to find out.
So, I lied, kind of. Split the truth down the middle. “I'm just not very experienced, that's all.”
Reese pushed my hair back from my face and smiled at me, his dark eyes taking me in like I was the most delicious feast a hungry man had ever sat down to. I could get lost in those eyes – something I always did when I was a stupid girl back home. It often led to awkward moments where I just stared at him, unable to articulate anything at all. But there, in that moment, I could stare all I wanted and it was delightful.
“But,” I continued, talking a little bit faster than normal, just to make sure I didn't ruin the moment, “I want this. I still want to do this.”
Reese looked worried for a second, and I thought perhaps I'd ruined everything after all. I was kicking myself mentally until he finally spoke.