Unrequited

Yeah, we were all a driving a hundred miles an hour down a one-way street to self-destruction. The only question was when we would crash.

“Do you miss it?” Alicia asks, her voice quiet.

“Like breathing.” I ground out the reply. Suddenly I’m tense, jittery, so I get up and go over to the stereo. My brother couldn’t care less about music, so this is my addition to the apartment: top-of-the-line speakers in every room, all hooked up to an old-fashioned record-player. MP3s just don’t have the same sound.

I flip through the vinyl and pick out an old Elvis record. I settle the needle in the groove and start it playing. The faded country twang fills the air, scratched and warm with sound, soothing me.

“I love this song!” Alicia lights up. “My parents play it all the time.”

“People just remember Elvis for the rhinestones and grilled cheese,” I agree, strolling back to the table. “But the man could sing.”

The sound of the old love song washes over me and right away, I feel calmer.

Music is my salvation, it always has been. The balm on my jagged soul.

Alicia smiles with memory. “I remember, growing up, they would slow-dance around the kitchen whenever it came on.”

“Are they still together?” I ask.

She nods. “Thirty years this fall. They met in college,” she adds. “Dad saw her on the first day of classes, and signed up for Advanced Physics just to sit next to her in class. He failed the class, but he asked her out every day for a month until she said yes.”

“That’s a great story.”

“What about you?” She looks over. “Are your parents back in LA?”

I pause, wondering how to answer that. I can’t tell her the truth right now, so I tell her part of it instead. “Ireland. My whole family is from over there.”

“Callahan.” Alicia nods. “I should have guessed.”

I want to change the subject, so I nod across at her food.

“Don’t you like it?” I ask. She’s picking at her pasta, taking tiny sips of wine.

She gives me a bashful smile. “It’s great. My stomach is just tied up in knots, that’s all.”

I sit back, relishing the sight of her. I’ve never met anyone who could make innocence look so damn sexy -- or who is willing to admit that much to me. It drove me out of my mind with frustration when she stopped me back there on the couch, but I respect her too. Not many women would put the brakes on, especially not with me.

“Are you a virgin?” I ask bluntly.

Her eyes widen. “No,” she says quickly. “Well, almost.”

“Almost?” I chuckle. “I didn’t realize there were degrees.”

Alicia smiles at that. “I’ve been with a man before,” she explains hesitantly, her cheeks still flaming pink. “But it wasn’t really a thing. We were drunk at some frat party in college,” she admits. “And it was over, well, pretty fast. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I guess neither did he.”

“And you haven’t been with anyone since?” I don’t take my eyes off her. I can’t believe she’s so inexperienced. Everything about her screams sensuality. The way she moved against me...

This girl is made for sex.

Alicia shakes her head. She looks down. “After that, I decided to wait. Until I felt something real, until I wanted to give that much of myself to someone.”

“But that someone never came along.” I feel an unfamiliar stab of satisfaction.

Alicia’s expression flickers for a moment. “He did,” she says softly, and I can see the heartache in her eyes. “I met someone. He was the perfect guy. But he doesn’t feel the same way. He never will.”

She looks down, trying to hide her disappointment. I swear I could break that guy’s jaw for making her feel this way.

“He’s a goddamn fool,” I tell her. I can’t believe anyone would turn her down, he must have been blind and dumb not to fall at her feet and thank the Lord the minute she said his name.

“It’s fine.” She shrugs it off with a sad smile. “I’m happy. I have my friends, my career--”

“Bullshit.” I cut her off. Alicia looks up in surprise.

“I don’t mean you can’t be happy on your own. But our bodies were designed for pleasure,” I tell her simply. “Exploring that pleasure... you discover who you really are, when the world goes away and it’s just sweat and passion and your heartbeat racing in your chest.”

I watch her eyes widen at my words. Shock, but desire too. Curiosity.

“It’s a crime nobody’s taught you what you’re capable of,” I tell her, meaning every word. “You deserve to know just how good you can feel.”

Alicia blinks at me. She pauses for a second, like she’s trying to think of what to say.

“Who are you?” she finally whispers. I frown in confusion. “When the world goes away,” she explains, repeating my words back at me, “who are you?”

I pause.

The truth is, I wasn’t talking about sex back there. The only time I ever lose myself is up on stage. The rush of performing, the music in my veins. A thousand women could never beat that sensation, and believe me, I’ve tried.

But kissing her tonight, I’ve felt a glimpse of release like never before. The light of escape in her warm body, the promise of salvation in those sweet lips.