What if I Fly? (8 page)

Brad’s in his late twenties, tall and very muscular, a bit rough around the edges, with a strong New York accent. They had a great time together, but she hasn’t given him a thought since she left in May.

Gabby strongly disapproved of her tryst, accusing Julia of using Brad to get over Will. Well, yes, that’s exactly what she was doing, and Julia wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Brad used her for sex and she used him as a diversionary tactic.
He’s very good at diversion.

Worldly and wise in so many ways, Gabby is a romantic at heart and doesn’t believe in casual sex. “How can something so intimate be casual?” she asked, not for the first time. “Easily,” Julia responded. “Remove emotion, insert fun.”

It’s not very complicated.

Brad leans in for a kiss and connects with her cheek.
Dear God, not in front of Will!
She scans the crowd and watches him crossing the courtyard, in search of her.

“Come here, Jules…” Brad slips his arm around her waist and pulls her away from the fire pit, “I’ve got something to show you,” he whispers seductively, kissing her neck.

“Whoa! Hold on there!” she says, disentangling herself from his grasp, then holding her arms out to ward off further contact.

“What’s the problem, Julia?” he asks, annoyed.

“The problem, Brad…” Julia catches Will’s eye. He’s staring at them from the middle of the courtyard, apparently in a state of shock. “The problem is I’m not here alone,” she smiles stiffly.

Brad stares at her vacantly for a moment, the light of understanding slowly flickering on.
It’s true
, she silently concedes,
he’s gorgeous, but not very bright
. That’s what she liked most about him, she didn’t have to think when they were together.

Seconds later, Will is standing beside her. He isn’t smiling as he extends his hand toward Brad.

“Hi, I’m Will.”

“Oh!” She freezes, flustered, and says, “Will, this is Brad. Brad, this is my… boyfriend Will,” she winces as soon as the words tumble from her lips.
Why did I say that?

“Nice to meet you, Brad.” Julia watches the two men squaring off, warily shaking hands.

“Yeah, you too.” Brad flexes the muscles in his chest and chuckles dismissively, “Will, is it?”

“Yes, I’m Will. Julia’s boyfriend.”

Brad nods, backing away, and extends his thumb and pinky, an imaginary phone. He places it near his face, and mouths call me as he turns away.
Shit!
Julia closes her eyes wondering how she’s going to explain this one.

Will grabs her hand and leads her to a bench in the corner of the yard. It’s still loud and crowded, but they have a modicum of privacy.

There, they sit in silence for a minute.
Two minutes.

She has no idea what to say, can’t begin to imagine what he’s thinking. How would she feel if some girl wrapped her arms around him and kissed him in front of her?
Like shit
.

Finally, Will holds her hand to his mouth and kisses her palm, then takes a deep breath in before he speaks.

“I have no right to ask you this, but I want to know. Are you seeing Brad?”

“I was,” she mumbles, and stares into the fire pit a few feet from where they’re sitting, “Before I came home this summer.”

“Are you still seeing him?”

“We didn’t end things before I left,” she shrugs and squeezes his hand, “Things change, Will. Things have changed.”

He nods and they continue to sit in silence for a few more minutes.

“How did you meet him?”

“He works with the film studies department at NYU. He does the lighting and rigging for student projects.”

Again, he nods, pensive.

“You take film classes?”

“No. I was in a student film last spring. One of my friends wrote the script and asked me to be in it.”

“Was it serious?” he asks, the muscles in his jaw visibly tightening.

“No, it was a lighthearted comedy,” she says, and Will raises an eyebrow. She giggles nervously, perfectly aware he wasn’t asking about the film. “No. Not serious. At all.”

Will takes a deep breath in and out, a semblance of a smile settling on his face.

“Want to play Truth or Dare?” he asks, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“What?” she chuckles, “Why?”

“I just realized I don’t know a lot about your life outside of Rhode Island. You major in History and Museum Studies, that’s what I know. But, acting in movies? Dating older men? What else don’t I know? Why don’t you ever tell me about your life in New York?”

“You haven’t asked.”

By the time they return to Julia’s apartment, it’s almost one o’clock in the morning. After their talk, they were able to relax and enjoy the party. Thankfully, Brad took off.
Out of sight, out of mind!
Her friends from school were only too eager to share stories about Julia’s life in the Big Apple with Will. She can’t imagine he’d have many more questions after tonight!

Should she have told Will about Brad? Maybe, but she didn’t see the point. Brad was a fling, their month together about sex, nothing more. And in her defense, if one was needed, Will was out of the picture as far as she was concerned. He made her heart ache and she didn’t like it.

“Is this okay?” she asks, carrying two glasses of ice and a bottle of vodka into her bedroom, offering one to Will. He nods and sits back on her bed.

“I can’t thank you enough for all of your help today, Will. Really. You went above and beyond.” She pours vodka into their glasses, then turns on her stereo.

“No problem, Jules. I’m glad I could help. Salute,” he says, clinking his glass against hers.

“Cheers,” Julia smiles.

They recline against the pillows on her bed, listening to music, and sip their drinks. The sexual tension in the room is palpable. She can touch it, can feel the energy swirling around their bodies, drawing them closer together. It’s a powerful force, and Julia’s resistance is dangerously low.

Will takes her hand in his and she closes her eyes, singing along to
Believe
by Lenny Kravitz song
Believe
.  She’s never really paid attention to the lyrics before. He says you can have what you want if you only believe in yourself. 

She frowns, mulling over the words to the song. All people really want is to be loved. 
That is all people want, isn’t it?
Can she do that? Love someone and be loved?

Feeling Will’s body beside hers, she forgets why she shouldn’t get involved with him. Could be the alcohol, but she knows she came up with very good, grown up reasons not to. Now, her mind is drawing a blank. All she knows is she wants to touch him…to feel his skin against hers…

Will brushes the hair away from her face, his fingertips tracing her cheekbones, then her lips and she’s dizzy with longing. He caresses the slope of her neck, grazes her collarbone and rests his hand between her breasts. Her eyes are still closed and she can hardly breathe, but she doesn’t want him to stop, will actually cry if he does stop.

He continues exploring the contours of her body, running his hands along its peaks and valleys, and she turns to him, slowly opening her eyes. Will searches her face.
He’s waiting for a signal from me. He wants my permission to continue.

“Will…I’m scared,” she says, burying her face in his neck.

“Jules, it’s me. Don’t be nervous…I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” he says, his voice so tender.

“Did you mean what you said earlier today?” she asks.

“The four letter word?”

“That, and the other thing.”

Will places his finger under her chin and tilts her head. He nods, “I will never hurt you again Julia.”

She rolls onto her back, biting her bottom lip, and stares at the ceiling. She wants to believe him.
You’ve just got to believe…in yourself.
She does want it. She loves Will and she wants to be loved by him. And if it turns out to be a huge mistake, she has Lenny Kravitz to blame.

Julia rolls back onto her side, facing him.

“I believe you.”

Will exhales and smiles.

She touches his face and kisses him, tentatively at first, her desire, a slow burning fire spreading from her core to her outer limbs, the intensity of the heat growing, his hands and lips fueling the flames.

“Julia…I’ve wanted to do this since the day we met,” he says, his hands sliding beneath her shirt. She aches to feel his skin against hers, to feel him inside of her. Will impatiently pulls off his shirt, then removes hers, his lips tracing a path from her stomach to her mouth.

The exploration has begun, their bodies humming with excitement. Will unhooks her bra, freeing her breasts and his tongue circles the hard peaks, his hands roaming her body.

Slowly they touch and taste, the pressure building, threatening to consume her. She’s never felt this before, has never wanted someone so much, it physically hurts not to have him.

Julia slides off his boxers, and wraps her fingers around his length, stroking him, inviting him in. Will gasps and looks into her eyes.

“Yes,” she nods, smiling.

His mouth comes down hard on hers while he removes her panties, then sinks his fingers into her. Julia arches her back and moans.
Please!
She’s ready, her body writhing with anticipation. She feels the weight of him on her and sighs.

“Do you have something?” she whispers.

Will stops cold, his free hand covering his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, reaching for his wallet. “Please God, let me have one...” he mutters under his breath.

Will exhales, then shakes his head and she registers his disappointment.

“No, no, no, no, no!” she cries.
Are you frigging kidding me?!

“This can’t be happening,” he groans, lying down beside her. “I don’t suppose you keep a box around the house?”

“No…oh my god! No,” she covers her face with her hands. “I need a cold shower,” she mumbles.

“Well, then, I guess we’re going to have to get creative,” he says sliding down the bed, his lips between her thighs.

“Creativity is good,” she whispers, her breathing uneven.

Julia is the first to wake later that morning and she is still, watching him sleep for a few minutes, a smile on her face. She slept soundly, their bodies molded together, his arms wrapped around her. Usually she likes her space in bed, but she feels well rested this morning.

Visions of last night flash through her head, his body, his taste, his touch and she’s instantly turned on. They were uninhibited, passionate... Julia kisses Will’s neck, his shoulder and he slowly stirs.

“Good morning,” he smiles.

“Good morning,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “We’re naked…”

He stretches his arms and legs, and turns toward her, already hard.

“Yes, we are,” Will murmurs, running his hand over her breasts, down her stomach, between her legs, and kisses her gently. His fingers find the spot he discovered last night, the one that makes her moan. She inhales sharply, her back arching.

“You didn’t happen to stop by a drugstore while I was sleeping, did you?”

Julia shakes her head, and Will positions himself above her. She wraps her legs around him, ready to throw caution to the wind, but she knows he wouldn’t dare. Will learned that lesson the hard way. She slowly kisses a path down his torso and takes him in her mouth.

“This will have to do for now.”

He closes his eyes and sighs.  

Chapter Seven

For Julia’s twenty-first birthday, Will’s planning something special. He has to attend a conference near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania for a few days and she’s taking the train from New York to meet him there on Wednesday.

Some girls love champagne and roses, Julia would rather scour a battlefield or spend the day in a museum. And he knew that without her having to say a word. Thursday evening they’re driving down to Will’s place in Georgetown for the remainder of the weekend.

Being a European history major hasn’t diminished her love of American history in the least. She’s never been to Gettysburg and is excited to see for herself where this pivotal Civil War battle took place, and the graveyard where Lincoln delivered his famous address.

As soon as she got off the phone with Will, she ran to the library and checked out a few books on the siege, studying the maps and troop movements during the three-day battle.

“You know, most girls wouldn’t find exploring a Civil War battlefield exciting,” Will chuckled.

“This is my version of Disneyworld,” she laughed over the phone, “Between Gettysburg and Washington, DC, I’ll be in history heaven!”

“I had a feeling you’d like it…”

She hasn’t laid eyes on Will in over two weeks, not since the weekend he helped move her into the apartment. Their time together was too brief and once she allowed herself to indulge in their passion, she found it almost impossible to tear herself away, a child with a bright, new, shiny toy she couldn’t put down. And her ‘toy’ had a mind of his own, discovering all types of new ways to stimulate her.

Later that afternoon, she had to work at the museum and they frolicked in bed until the last possible second, quickly showered, and grabbed a bagel before Will dropped her off at the Met on his way back to DC. They talk on the phone most days but it’s not the same.

As the train pulls into the station, she searches the platform for him. She’s breathless with excitement, her skin tingling, anticipating his touch. When the train screeches to a halt, she grabs her bag from the overhead bin, and peeks out the window again.
Where is he?

Before she descends the final step onto the platform, he’s standing in front of her, smiling ear to ear. Julia freezes for a moment, her heart swelling in her chest, and leaps into his arms. Will holds her close and she breathes him in. She’s always loved the way he smells, it’s intoxicating. Her mouth finds his and they embrace, their kisses filled with longing.

“Where’s your car?” she asks, anxiously. She can’t wait any longer, and just in case he forgot, she brought her own box.

The drive to his hotel took twenty minutes, and as soon as Will shifts the car into park, they make a run for the lobby doors and reach his room half dressed, her arms wrapped around his chest. Will fumbles with the room key while she slides her hands down to unzip his pants.

“Jules, you keep doing that and I’ll never get this door open.”

They enter the dark room, removing what remains of their clothing, leaving a pile near the door.

“Miss Grasso…” he says with a wicked grin, “The things I’m going to do to you…” Will scoops her up over his shoulder and she squeals with pleasure as he carries her to the bed.

They spend the next few hours eagerly exploring each other’s bodies, a blur of mouths, tongues, fingers, legs, skin, and exquisite release, after which they collapse in exhaustion, their limbs entwined.

“That was definitely worth the wait,” she says, holding her hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath.

Will rolls on top of her, pinning her arms above her head, and covers her mouth with his hand.

“You’re not going to stop me this time, Julia...I love you.” Will releases her arms and removes his hand.

“Why?” she whispers, blinking back tears.

“Jules, when I’m with you, I feel… alive. Like we can take on the world together.” He wipes away her tears, his lips meeting hers, “Remember my promise.”

“Will…I’m so in love with you.”

The following morning, Will and Julia drive to the battlefields of Gettysburg, investigating until the park closes, and then drive south, arriving at his place in Georgetown close to eleven that evening.

“Didn’t JFK and Jackie own a place near here?” she asks when they pull up to his townhouse, “I remember reading that they lived on one of the alphabet streets. K? L? I don’t remember…”

“You’re close, they lived on N Street, not too far from here. I think that’s why my father wanted to buy this place. Even though he’s a Republican, he’s a huge admirer of JFK.”

On the first floor, Will walks her through the kitchen, a dining room with a table and chairs his parents gave him, an empty library with a stereo, and a living room with a fireplace. No couch, no end tables, nothing.

They walk up the stairs to the second floor, which includes Will’s bedroom, bathroom, and walk-in closet. There’s also a second, unfurnished bedroom and bath, and a den with a couch, television and built-in bookshelves. On the third floor is a third bedroom and bathroom, as empty as the rest of the house.

“Will, this place is huge! Where’s your furniture?” she laughs.

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” he buries his face in her neck, his hands wandering beneath her shirt. Will unhooks her bra with one hand, his other cupping her breast and kneels down, unbuttoning her jeans.

“Maybe we should eat something?” she suggests, her voice just above a whisper.

“Are you hungry?” he murmurs, pulling her pants over her hips to the floor. She reaches down and tugs off his shirt, running her fingers over his bare chest.

“Yes. Yes I am.” She raises her arms and Will removes her shirt and bra, then lifts her off the ground, and carries her to his bedroom.

Julia wakes with a start, and reaches for Will, but the bed is empty and cold. “Will?” she calls out, her brow furrowed. It takes her a moment, but then she remembers, he’s at work today and she’s on her own. The alarm clock beside his bed says it’s almost nine. He must have left two hours ago. On the nightstand beside the bed is a piece of paper, folded in half with her name written across it. She picks it up and reads…

I didn’t want to wake you. See you tonight. I love you. W 

She holds the note to her chest, smiling.
He loves me
…  She lies in bed for a bit, looking around the room. The walls are bare. She doesn’t see any photographs of his family. Just his bed, a nightstand, an old bureau and several stacks of books.

She climbs out of bed and finds a clipping from their hometown newspaper on his bureau, a grainy picture of her that was published last summer when they did
West Side Story
. She can’t believe he kept it!

Last night, she didn’t get a good look at his place. It was dark and some of the rooms don’t have overhead lighting. Will has yet to buy any lamps. She pulls on a pair of leggings and one of his sweatshirts, and pads down the carpeted stairs. There’s nothing homey about this place, nothing that indicates Will lives here. It’s strange, cold and impersonal.

She looks through his kitchen cupboards, makes herself some tea and an English muffin, and tops it with peanut butter. There are a few spotty brown bananas on the counter, but she’s too hungry to care.

Through the French doors leading to the backyard, she notices a lovely garden and heads to the patio carrying her breakfast. Whoever lived here before Will had a green thumb. Even in late September the garden is full of color, and Will seems to be maintaining it, or hired someone to do it.

On the flagstone patio is a lounge chair, and a small wrought-iron table with four chairs and a striped umbrella. She eats her breakfast and sips her tea, wondering what she should do next.

It’s much quieter here in Georgetown than in New York. She’s never liked silence, it invites unwelcome thoughts. She sits back and watches a bird splashing in the small bath next to the azaleas.

Since the weekend Will helped her move to Brooklyn, he’s been on her mind, but she’s kept herself busy with school and work. Her friends have been teasing her, saying she’s been floating on a love-filled cloud for the past few weeks, a constant smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.

Sitting in the relative silence of Will’s backyard, she frowns, unpleasant thoughts beginning to swirl in her head. Except for a lengthy phone call to share the news with Gabby, Julia hasn’t had time to genuinely reflect upon their circumstances. When it’s just the two of them it’s so easy to forget the outside world, to overlook the differences that kept them apart.

Spending time with Will clouds her thinking. When they’re together, she doesn’t believe he’ll ever come to resent her for keeping him from the world he knows.
But he might one day
… She’d give anything for the sound of sirens screaming and taxis blaring their horns right now!

We’re in love!
Julia’s heart stops at the thought.
Love!
Her throat closes and she begins to hyperventilate, then leans over and rests her head between her legs, reminding herself to take deep breaths.

What does it even mean to be in love?
To want to be with that person more than anyone? To give your heart away and trust he won’t break it into a million pieces? Will promised he’d never hurt her again. She believes he’d never intentionally hurt her, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt her. There are no guarantees.

Julia runs into the kitchen, picks up the phone and dials Gabby’s number. Her friend will have some advice, some soothing words of wisdom. After five rings the call goes to her answering machine.
Goddammit!
Julia slams the phone onto the receiver and slides to the floor. This isn’t good.

Immersing herself in the past has always been a perfect distraction from the present, so she picks up her copy of
The Killer Angels
and attempts to read about the battle of Gettysburg, hoping to take her mind off these paralyzing thoughts. But she re-reads the same paragraph a dozen times, and finally gives up. Too many confusing thoughts are crowding her head, too many scary scenarios.

She feels the desperate need to escape Will’s home, to run from these feelings, so she heads upstairs, jumps in the shower and takes the Metro across town to explore the sights.

Julia visits the Lincoln and Jefferson memorials, then takes a long walk along the National Mall. She’s been sightseeing for hours and knows it’s time to head back to Will’s house, but she doesn’t feel quite ready to go.

What is she going to do? Listen to her heart or her head?

She finds an empty bench and kills some time people watching. Old couples and young couples walk by hand in hand, along with harried families trying to navigate the city with small children in tow, and men and women in suits carrying briefcases, looking official and important.

Maybe love isn’t the destructive force she thought it was. Her mother’s face flashes before her. Carol’s doing really well these days. She went back to school a couple of years ago and stopped drinking for the most part, limiting herself to a glass of wine occasionally. Last year she got a great job as an executive assistant to the president of the local university and she loves it. Her mother even started dating a nice man this past summer, someone Julia approves of. Carol’s in a good place now, but Julia can’t help it…she keeps waiting for the bottom to drop out from under her.

She’s lost in thought when an old homeless woman approaches her. She’s so familiar, her face kind and gentle. The lady reminds Julia of Gram, and her eyes begin to water as she searches through her bag for money.
Gram, I wish you were here. I could really use your advice right now.
She finds a few dollars and hands them to the elderly woman, who holds Julia’s hand for a moment and nods, shuffling toward the Reflecting Pool.

She closes her eyes, remembering her conversation with Gram the night she died, and can hear her grandmother’s voice in her head.
Follow your heart my angel, it’s not every day you meet someone who feeds your soul.

She smiles and takes a deep breath in. She knows the answer, she’s known it all along. It’s time to go home to her Romeo and take a chance on love.

***

Julia’s birthday falls on a beautiful, early-Autumn day, crisp and comfortable. After spending most of the morning in bed, they enjoyed brunch at a bistro near his place, then drove to Mount Vernon, where the Fall Wine Festival is being held this weekend. Will saw the advertisement in the newspaper earlier this week, and Julia jumped at the chance to see George Washington’s home in person. Neither of them is particularly interested in wine, but he knows Julia’s fascinated by the lives of the Founding Fathers.

At the end of the house tour Julia spends several minutes staring intently at a portrait of the President.

“This is an original by Gilbert Stuart.”

He scratches his chin, pensive.
I know that name
… Julia’s eyes open wide.