” “Two-o-five,” I repeated. “I’ll see you in a few.” “I can’t wait,” she said. I then drove the two-minutes to the hotel, parked and walked toward the lobby. Before going inside I pulled out my cellphone and pretended to be talking to someone. I always felt uneasy going into the hotels. I got the feeling that the front desk clerks somehow knew that I wasn’t a guest and that I was there for unscrupulous reasons. For some reason I thought if I walked in pretending to talk on my phone it appeared that I was a guest in town for business. I don’t know if that worked or even if they cared why I was there, but it gave me sense of security. I clutched her gift as I walked down the hallway. Butterflies filled my stomach as I got closer to her room. When I eventually got to it, I nervously stood in front of the door. After lightly knocking I heard movement on the other side, like the sound of feet quickly walking across the floor. I could feel her eyes gazing at me through the peephole. And I. I just woke up. My eyes are blurry and unfocused, my heart is clear: Where are you? There is warmth, I feel it. It comes not from the dieing fire in the corning of the room, it is to my left. Your form lies flush against me buried in a heap of thick covers, your hair, the color of bright copper, is splayed out wildly on the pillow. I lose my breath, as I do every time I look at you, your beauty racks my mind. I don’t deserve you, my own perverted twisted form doesn’t possess the grace to yours. Your chest rises up and down slowly in a symphony of a lucid vision. What are you dreaming of? I hope it is of me, a livid romantic dream of our first time, quick and awkward but passionate, it is a memory only a day old. My heart beats wildly, thinking about you envisioning me, don’t you hear it? I am perspiring a little, wrapped in my cocoon of sheets, blankets and you. We were not each other’s firsts, but the way we both moved last night, it could have been. We both wanted to do so much.
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