{"id":1508,"date":"2011-09-12T09:02:08","date_gmt":"2011-09-12T13:02:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/?p=1508"},"modified":"2012-02-10T16:38:15","modified_gmt":"2012-02-10T21:38:15","slug":"shes-ready-now","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/short-stories\/shes-ready-now.htm","title":{"rendered":"She’s Ready Now"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"She\u2019s<\/a><\/p>\n

Read this story from her point of view — click to see<\/a>    <\/i>
 <\/div>\n

\tHe arrives at the boardwalk, the sun blinding him with greeting. An appropriate metaphor, he thinks, given that he was blinded by love here so long ago. It\u2019s the place where it all began for him, where he will meet her today once again. He hopes that she\u2019s ready now for him, unlike last time. He has always been ready for her. <\/p>\n

\tShe\u2019s waiting for him at the boardwalk when he arrives, standing at the rail overlooking the beach. It surprises him that she\u2019s there first. So much so that he presumes it can\u2019t be her leaning against the rail, while all the tourists and power-walkers wander past her. <\/p>\n

\tBut even though it\u2019s been five years, he can still recognize the wavy blonde hair he\u2019d touched only once. He remembers the slim graceful curves he wanted to touch even more but never did, hidden under a green sleeveless dress. It\u2019s like the dress she wore when she told him to go, in this very place no less. <\/p>\n

\tAs he gets closer to her, he notices men giving her second glances, and their wives in turn giving them dirty looks. All the while, she remains oblivious to the power she radiates and the calamity she causes just by her mere presence. She doesn\u2019t seem to understand her effect on people. Just like back then, when she knew him. <\/p>\n

\tHe looks at his watch, five minutes to three. Five minutes early, he is. Which means she\u2019s been waiting here, for him. That\u2019s so different from the way it had been. He had always been the one waiting, until she told him to leave.\tBut of course, this time was different. She was the one who had called him, to be here. That never would have happened five years ago. She\u2019d been the one who ran away. Certainly not the one who was the aggressor, like now. <\/p>\n

\tIt\u2019s strange to see the same vision of her, yet knowing that just because of her initiation, everything had changed this time. Even if this was the same place where it all began between them, and where it all fell apart as well. No wonder she\u2019d chosen this place to meet. Yet choosing it also seemed cruel to him, when he remembered her parting words.<\/p>\n

\tBut he\u2019s here now, and so is she. She seems to sense him, turning her head to face him. She\u2019s smiling, a good sign. Or maybe not. He had thought he\u2019d known her, thought he could read her after the friendship they had. Look what happened then. A botched kiss that left him screaming with unrequited desire. But that was then. The years of silence are over, at least for now. <\/p>\n

\tHe walks up the boardwalk stairs, approaching the green clad figure that he\u2019d dreamed about for so long. He\u2019s like any heterosexual man with half a brain, would love to have an excuse to take her in his arms and a reunion seems as good as any. But he wants her to make the first move, seeing that his advances were why they hadn\u2019t spoken in five years, anyway. <\/p>\n

\tUp close, he confirms his original presumption. She still looks beautiful. What, was he hoping she\u2019d be ugly? Well, it would help in one way if she was. But she wasn\u2019t, and he was assaulted with the same punch of desire in his gut that had attacked him when they last met. He hopes it doesn\u2019t seem obvious. Because she still hasn\u2019t made any moves towards him.<\/p>\n

\tShe squints her blue eyes at him. That was the last thing she had done, before she walked away like she did the last time. He feels like taking her in his arms and keeping her there before she flees again. Damn, why did she do this to him? How could he feel captured, so enraptured by a woman he\u2019d only kissed once? He feels like some stupid clown, like a thirty-two year old virginal freak. It’s no better than when he saw her five years ago. What is it with this woman that makes her so different from the others? <\/p>\n

\tShe shades her eyes with her hand, and he forces himself to look directly into them. It\u2019s no easier than looking at the rest of her, but he\u2019s got to look somewhere, and anything lower than her face is looking for obvious trouble. It\u2019s what got him in trouble the last time he saw her. <\/p>\n

She smiles at him, and most likely at his dilemma, before looking away and giggling. Well, maybe giggling is a good sign, he thinks. Maybe he\u2019s not the only one who\u2019s nervous here. She wasn\u2019t much of a giggler back then, back when she sent him away. A man had to hope these things when he felt this pathetic in love, lust, or whatever the hell it was that this woman did to him.<\/p>\n

\t\u201cYou haven\u2019t changed much,\u201d she says. <\/p>\n

\t\u201cI hope that isn\u2019t bad,” he replies. <\/p>\n

\tShe laughs. Her hair is thrown back, no care to how she looks. God, she looks so sexy, he thinks. There’s none of that insecurity she used to sport around him. <\/p>\n

She laughs as she protests, \u201cNo, of course not! Do you think that I\u2019d even ask you to be here if it was?\u201d <\/p>\n

He wonders if she’s laughing at him. But he’s still drawn to her, still wants her. She\u2019s right. He hasn\u2019t changed much. <\/p>\n

\tThe last five years had helped him realize he could live without her, though. Even if it was with a hole that couldn\u2019t quite be filled. So he has nothing to lose by being honest, now. <\/p>\n

He replies, \u201cI really don\u2019t know. There seemed to be a problem back then. So no, I have no idea if it\u2019s a good idea or not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\t\u201cIt had nothing to do with you. I told you so back then. It was me. All me.\u201d She’s still smiling as she says this, but he notices the laughter is gone from her voice. <\/p>\n

\tHer sudden seriousness makes him laugh before he replies, \u201cOh come on. That\u2019s what everyone says when they want to get out of something without getting into a big argument. It\u2019s what I would do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\tHer smile turns thin, like she’s chastising a child. Her eyes are fluttering with flirtation though, as she says, \u201cThen again, I\u2019m not you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\tHe thinks, no you\u2019re not, and I wish I could read you better. <\/p>\n

\tShe leaves her cool post resting on the railing, and walks up to him, placing her hands on his chest. It is like molten heat to him, rising in all the places that are just right as long as the moment is. She\u2019s got to know what she\u2019s doing to him. Doesn\u2019t she? <\/p>\n

\t\u201cThings are a lot different now,\u201d she says. You think?, he almost says aloud. He stifles a laugh, looking at her hands on him while his still hang by his sides. <\/p>\n

\tHis adolescent antics are suddenly interrupted by a roar. It’s some kid wearing a backwards baseball hat and an oversized t-shirt on a skateboard practically careens into the both of them. In response, he grabs his damsel into his arms, out of the path of the clumsy wannabe athlete. \u201cSorry\u201d, the kid mumbles. The twerpy kid skates off without another word. <\/p>\n

\tNormally, he\u2019d be annoyed at such a bumbling idiot, but he realizes what a gift he\u2019s been given by this accidental jackass stunt. She\u2019s in his arms now, and his instinct to protect her has overwritten his hesitancy. The heat from her seeps into him in more ways than one. He remembers this heat, the sensation burnt into him from so long ago. He wonders how long it will last.<\/p>\n

\tShe holds him tighter, and his response is full tension in all the places that you\u2019d expect in this situation. It sucks to be so obvious while she can stay so coy. The softness of her skin against his heightens his pleasure. She then puts her hands up to his face, rubbing the stubble he neglected to shave away this morning. \u201cMy hero. Always have, always will be.\u201d she says. He notices her blue eyes staring into his. The heat from them melt him like no other woman’s eyes ever have done before.<\/p>\n

\t\u201cWhat? Always have?\u201d he snaps back.<\/p>\n

\t\u201cOf course, silly.\u201d She gives him a light rub on his chest. She then leans closer to him, letting him press into her. She says, \u201cYou got to me like no other man had before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\t\u201cYou\u2019re not mad, then?\u201d he replies.<\/p>\n

\t“About what?” she asks. <\/p>\n

\tHe responds, “When I kissed you. You freaked out. You told me to go away! Then I didn\u2019t hear from you again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\tShe blushes a bit, smiling again. \u201cNo, it really was me. It was all about me. It wasn\u2019t you at all,” she replies.<\/p>\n

\t\u201cThat’s news to me,\u201d he says. <\/p>\n

\tShe takes his hands in hers and says, \u201cSilly goose. You missed the most obvious thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\tHe tilts his head before he replies, \u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\tHer smile turns into a giggle before she responds with, \u201cDo you really think the whole reason why I was hanging out with a hunk like you was because I needed a shoulder to cry on? Please. I have girlfriends for that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\tHe goes blank. <\/p>\n

\tHer face turns serious. She looks down, stating \u201cI owe you an apology.\u201d<\/p>\n

\tHe snaps his head up. \u201cFor what?\u201d But he knows damn well for what. His heart sure remembers. <\/p>\n

\tShe again blushes and looks down. She replies, \u201cI feel like an idiot. I was so stupid back then.\u201d She shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. \u201cI was twenty-five, a grown woman, and I didn\u2019t even know what I wanted. I really was ridiculous. I wanted you, and as soon as I knew that you wanted me too, I panicked. I was an idiot.\u201d<\/p>\n

\tShe wanted him? Maybe there is a God, he thinks. He swallows, the lump in his throat not the only thing throbbing on his person.<\/p>\n

\t\u201cWhy?\u201d his voice barely makes out.<\/p>\n

\tShe looks up, with her eyes first and then her face. She wraps her arms behind his neck, drawing his face towards hers. Her lips meet his, a soft feather to the skin. At that moment, someone walking past them on the boardwalk whistles. Somebody else shouts, get a room. <\/p>\n

\tHe registers all this as white noise to ignore, because the most important thing has happened right in front of him. She kissed him first. She wants him, and always had. Everything has changed in just one minute, rewriting five years of longing he thought had no cure. <\/p>\n

\tHe takes advantage of his luck, responding to her invitation with his own deepening desire. Unlike last time, she lets him kiss her. She doesn\u2019t push away. The smouldering ignites into fire, while their kiss becomes deep and wet. He feels the heat from her body, realizing the newfound knowledge of her desire. She wants him. She had always wanted him, and now he knows it. <\/p>\n

\tHe’d invested five years of waiting. It finally paid off. As the kiss ends, he grabs her hand, and they stroll away from the boardwalk with its crowd. She\u2019s ready now, ready for him and the love that he had always wanted to give her. <\/p>\n

Read this story from her point of view — click to see<\/a>    <\/i>
 <\/p>\n

\"Share\"Share on Facebook<\/a>    <\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Read this story from her point of view — click to see      He arrives at the boardwalk, the sun blinding him with greeting. An appropriate metaphor, he thinks, given that he was blinded by love here so long ago. It\u2019s the place where it all began for him, where he will meet her today once […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"views":10575,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1508"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1508"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1508\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2043,"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1508\/revisions\/2043"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1508"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1508"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jkuzmier.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1508"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}