All the Details (as requested)
They had met several years ago at a mutual friend’s party. The narrow bar was only fit for intimate conversations, so that’s what they had. They spoke of their shared passion for the theatre, the show he had seen her in, the theatre company he started. She definitely felt an attraction, but paid it no mind, as she was involved with someone else. But when they met again a few weeks later, this time with his girlfriend in tow, she strangely felt a sharp pang of disappointment.A year or more went by without him coming to mind. He had left New York, moved off somewhere with the girlfriend, was no longer around. But last summer he reemerged on the scene—apparently there had been a difficult breakup and he was back in the city. When their paths would occasionally cross, they would again converse, always easily and comfortably.
When her leading man abruptly left her show, she put out a panicked call to all the actors she knew. Could anyone take over this major role, with just a few weeks of rehearsal? He responded that he was doing nothing else, why not? He joined the cast and more than filled the shoes of the leading man. The director wanted their scenes together to be sexually charged, so charged they were—so much so that she became uncomfortable when her boyfriend came to see a performance. The flirting onstage moved to subtle conversational innuendo offstage, but again, she thought little of it. He is a master flirt, and enjoyed teasing all the girls in the cast, so clearly she was nothing special.
When he learned of her recent breakup, he took on a conciliatory role, offering her hope and well wishes, reminding her that she was attractive and had much to offer. They shared their dating horror stories (including her recent one about The Resident and her hickeys) and his continued flirting certainly made her feel better about the situation. It would be okay.
A few weeks later they were both invited to a mutual friend’s birthday party, but he had to decline due to a previous commitment. Imagine her surprise when she arrived to find him there—his engagement had been cancelled. They talked for most of the party, and for the first time she actually felt comfortable flirting back. But he was leaving soon, to attend another party that evening. Would she care to join him? She would, and did, and off they went. Coincidentally, all the seating in the new bar was very secluded—so they ended up talking in a quiet corner by themselves. The flirting reached a feverish pitch. She definitely felt a connection with this guy—but over an hour went by, and though there had been a few opportunities for him to make his move, no move seemed to be forthcoming. A long pause settled over their conversation. They looked into each other’s eyes, and he said “come here,” and leaned over and kissed her. Though this was clearly not the first time their lips had touched, it had never felt like this on stage. His kisses were the softest, most gentle kisses she had ever felt. And filled with feeling. This felt good. He leaned over and started softly kissing her neck, and whispered, “No hickeys, I promise.” She laughed, thinking of The Resident’s fervent ardor, and was reminded how different it is kissing someone you truly have feelings for—or being kissed by someone who seems to have feelings for you. It had been far too long since she had been kissed quite this way—clearly her last relationship had gone on far too long for her not to be kissed like this.
This was no hot and heavy makeout session, however. The rounds of kissing were punctuated by conversation and hand holding. At least three times he looked her in the eyes and told her just how beautiful he found her. Again, it had been far too long since she had heard those words said with such intensity—it actually made her uncomfortable. Her mind was racing. What was going on? The depth of her feelings frightened her. He asked her what she was thinking. She mentioned how this was slightly freaking her out. He laughed, told her to breathe. She told him how upset she’d be if she didn’t hear from him, but he reassured her that there was no way that was going to happen. He reached over, hugged her and kissed her forehead. Told her that if anyone should be freaking out, it should be him, after all he was slightly shorter than her—and she had been so insistent about the height thing. “Somehow it doesn’t matter now,” she told him. And meant it.
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