Aaron is watching a movie on my couch. Back to the armrest, legs splayed out. "Hey. Come keep me warm," he calls to me and slaps his thighs. I comply and sit down between his legs. He gets up, places both his arms around me, and kisses me on the forehead before lying back against the armrest again; pulling me down with him for a snuggle.
He caresses me gently, running his hands down my cheeks and then my arm. He gently fondles my breasts then my stomach and thighs. I feel my cunt start to moisten and I respond by burrowing into him: grinding my ass against his crotch until I feel his third leg stiffen beneath his pants and stab insistently against my tailbone. He wants me!
"Take me," I whisper hoarsely as I shove one hand down his pants.
"Kriiiiiiiing!" he responds.
"What?"
"Kriiiiiiiing!" That sound again.
Oh, fuck! It's the alarm clock, I realize as I open my eyes. Just another dream. As tortuous as all the rest. I shut down the alarm clock and lie back on the bed. There's no way I'm waking up at six on a Saturday. I try to pull the dream back into my mind but the images are so disorganized and blurry that I'm unable to immerse myself in the story I'm trying to create.
Frustrated, I give up and try to think of something else. I think about Aaron. Is he awake yet? Probably. Is he thinking of me? Is he having dreams about me? What's he doing right now? I can't answer any of the questions so I check my phone but the only notification I have is a text from AT & T. I skulk around social media, then Youtube but find nothing interesting.
I finally climb out of bed at 8.30, feeling more tired than I was when I climbed in last night. I might need a nap. My phone chooses this as the moment to ring. I jump for it, thinking it's Aaron but it's only mom. We gab for half an hour before she begs off to go to her appointment with the gynecologist.
I retrieve my laptop, log in to Dear Diary and start typing yesterday's report. I wonder what to include about Aaron. I consider leaving him out but after the Stewart debacle, decide against it. But I don't want to share every intimate detail of my life with the agency so I just mention that he asked me out and I went. If Marjorie wants more details she knows where to find me.
After filing my report, I stare at my phone for another half hour, willing it to ring, but nothing happens. I head down to the kitchen, scramble some eggs, and brew coffee but I'm too jittery to eat much. I keep feeling phantom vibrations but every time I check my phone there's nothing.
I grab all my dirty clothes and head into the basement. Doing laundry always soothes me. My doorbell rings as I'm pulling the third load out of the dryer. I almost trip myself as I run up the steps.
I notice the flowers before I see the delivery guy carrying them. A dozen red tulips in an ornate crystal vase. I pretty much yank the vase out of his hands and hold the tulips up to my nose, bathing in the scent. "Just wait here for a minute. I have a twenty in my purse," I say by way of apology.
"That won't be necessary ma'am. I've already been tipped. Very generously," he replies. An 'oh' is all I can get out. He smiles and leaves.
I gingerly place the vase on my coffee table and extract the card. I'm sure Aaron sent the flowers but it doesn't hurt to confirm. The card has beautiful borders embossed in gold. The message is short and handwritten,
Elizabeth,
I had a great time with you last night. Looking forward to seeing you again.
Aaron.
I hold the card against my chest and just breathe in the air. I plop myself down on the couch and shoot Aaron a quick text,
just got da flwrs. vry btfl. tx
What language is that?
text lingo
Never use it again.
uh?
My phone rings. It's Aaron. I pick up on the first ring, a little miffed. "Hello Elizabeth," he starts. "I know what text lingo is."
"So you're just messing with me?"
"Not exactly. I happen to be a very militant grammar nazi. It's the sort of thing I should have mentioned. My bad."
"Mmmh..." I don't know how to respond.
"Am I forgiven?" he asks hopefully.
"Maybe," I reply coyly.
"What do I have to do?"
"Use text lingo from this point onwards."
"No, " he answers breathily. "I would have a stroke. I hated it when I was a teenager and now it just awakens a dark rage."
"That's my price," insist, trying to sound affirmative even though I know I've already lost this negotiation. I'm a little embarrassed by the whole thing. Why can't I text in complete sentences with proper spelling like an adult? But I have to stand my ground, no matter how stupid the issue. If I back down now, he will be dictating terms for the rest of our relationship.
"What about a compromise?" he offers.
"What kind of compromise?" I ask hopefully. Too late. He's won, I realize. Stand your ground!
"How about we never text again. I hate texting anyway. Going back and forth over the same thing for an hour three or four misspelled words at a time is a silly way to communicate. Calls are far more efficient. And they're harder to snoop on. Can we just stick to that?"
"Ok," the word slips out involuntarily and I scream at myself internally for that. How does he always manage to undermine my training? At The Farm, I was trained to extract as much as I can from targets while giving up as little as possible. Yet here I am, giving Aaron everything he wants on day two while getting nothing in return. I've made the first compromise of our relationship. I also made the same mistake with Ralph, ceding all the power to him and look at where I ended up. But I wasn't a trained spy then. What's my excuse now?
"Good. Enjoy your weekend Elizabeth. I'll see you this Friday."
"Ok. Have a good weekend too."
He says goodbye and then hangs up. I should have told him I have plans and rescheduled for Saturday instead, I realize after he's hung up. Too late again. Aaron isn't Ralph, I console myself. Part of me is happy he wants to see me again. The other part, the CIA agent part, is angry that I'm quickly becoming the junior partner in another relationship.
Aaron is not Ralph. Aaron is not Ralph. Aaron is not Ralph. It's just a second date. I can still turn things around, I console myself as I go back to my laundry. I still want Aaron. I've wanted him for a long time. I just want him on my terms. I've been playing subservient for far too long. But the forehead kiss was sweet. I can still feel it. I want more of that.