The Attraction Of David

Chapter 7

As the water ran down my body, the feeling of indifference overcame me, making me think of myself not being the same shell of a sad, jaded and lonely man it consistently had been for the past few weeks, months even. Erratic thoughts did not dominate my mind. Although sleeping was still a conflict at times, it was safe to say that everything felt better

A week had passed since the unbridled s*x with an absolutely handsome male escort. Who would've thought that a one-night stand can be as satisfying as the one with Stan?

Not that my fingers could no longer count the number of hookups this body of mine have had for me to tell that his performance was above the rest, but s*x with him was explosive and unforgettable.

Too memorable, that my body missed the way he touched, how the heat of his breath felt as it drifted on my skin. Moving past my toxic habit of hating life and overreacting to its quality, finally, was accomplished, and now, all that was festering me were the queries that were earnestly wishing for answers.

Where was he right now? Was he doing fine? The answers were easy to obtain, but something in me - fear - determined that it might be better to let the yearning cease. The uncertainty was also there, so the notion that eventually, my hangover from the rush and intoxication he'd brought would ultimately fade away, was the most acceptable thing to do to avoid complicating things.

And not having the answers made me speculate. He might be cleaning his cozy space, or watching a movie right now, partly drunk, and pouring his fifth glass of whiskey to kill time.

No, he was perhaps busy with his career and probably was with someone different right now. Stan might even be getting paid this evening for the luxury of performing the same actions and declaring the same phrases that he told me. The initial expectation was way more tolerable to me than the latter. Envisioning him, being with someone different, was god-awful to stomach.

And yet, repeatedly, the thoughts of those gorgeous brown eyes refused to leave me. Even as my hand lathered my body with bubbles of soap under a cold shower, the picture of him still never vacated the back of my head. It was hard to deny that, indeed, this was infatuation. Worse, the more my mind sought to overlook the situation and the emotion, the more longing, and frustration it had brought me.

Craving to meet him again was hard to ignore. Oh, God, how much my body craved to have him one more time. But my body had to hold on, must repress the impulse, curb it, have a damn complete sense of control over the longing.

Stanley would break me, that will happen, and my mind knew better than that.

Caught in the predicament of thinking, the sound of altercation and yelling cut through the calm of the night. The shower ended a couple of minutes sooner than usual, and with just a towel around my waist, my feet scrambled downstairs, barefoot, seeing that our front door was wide open. Daytona was generously giving her share of noise as she barked at the people who were looking at the house next to ours.

Outside was my mom and my brother, nosing around with the group of people who were preoccupied with the scene.

I went out, my body barely dried up and water was dripping down from my head. "What the hell is happening?" I asked, not requiring to know much as I followed their gazes. "Jesus, I thought it was Dave who got in trouble," I said, looking up the window of the house next to ours.

"It was our neighbors. The wife caught his husband cheating on her. From what I heard, she was about to dispose of the contents of their trash bin when she'd seen a used condom," Davion said, chuckling, his story barely audible, drowned by the constant and loud swearing.

I sneered. "God, that's awful. They're being too loud, did someone get hurt?"

My mother frowned, staring up at the window where the yelling was happing from behind. "I don't know, I hope they're fine."

"It was like we're back in 2014. I hate hearing s**t like this," Davion commented, a sneer on his face. "God, have they already called the police?"

The shouting went, my mind almost got carried away by the yelling and screaming. Pushing away the impulse to reminisce about the days when hearing the same noise felt like a war cry on our previous residence, was difficult.

Those days when my mom was still with my dad, the days when my teenage body could not do a thing to defend itself from the crushing blows of my dad's fist. Those heavy, pain-filled days when tears fell like a waterfall in a house where love never seemed to prosper.

"I think so," mom said, making me look at her. She looked back at me with concern. "Son, go back inside, people are staring at you."

The commotion and squabble consumed my awareness, and my mind forgot the fact that my body was bared. My lower half was scantily covered by my towel and nothing underneath.

"I was taking a shower when I heard it," I said.

I looked at my brother who had that obnoxious grin on his face, then at the group of people across the street. A group of female teenagers was staring at me. One of them even looked as if she was secretly capturing a photo or a video. It unsettled me.

David chuckled. "You've got a great body, but no need to show them that disgusting bulge you have down there."

I marched back inside the house. And in my hurry, accidentally stepped on Daytona's front paw, making her squeal and run inside the house, howling and hiding under the table. I soothed her, carrying her body with me up into the bedroom.

∞

What's worse than having to get through the confined space inside a train? Looking out the window of the car and seeing a thunderous sky as the rain pummeled down the ground like stone pelts. The downpour was unexpected.

Most passengers who just boarded a couple of minutes earlier mostly looked like they were fully drained and consumed by the hard day of work, some of them even drenched up by the sudden deluge.

When the train came to a stop, my feet hurriedly stepped out. The downpour was strong. The wind hummed with its intensity and it made me cringe, not knowing if the flimsy umbrella in my bag could protect me from such harshness.

The situation could've been understandable, and as metaphorical as it sounded, even nature had her way of shedding her tears, if only it weren't because of the white shoes and the long walk.

The large digital clock informed me that only twenty minutes were left before my shift for the night, starts. And looking outside, seeing that the streets were flooded, made me so sure that it would be a miracle if twenty minutes were enough.

The rain screwed me for tonight, and not so surprisingly, my colleagues were under the same fiasco. Most of them even announced their absence in our group conversation due to the inclement weather. We were not even nearing the end of summer, and yet, there was a damned thunderstorm.

With a sigh, my feet carefully descended the stairs, trying not to slip and crack my skull, as well as doing my best to avoid getting the muddy water all over my shoes.

Yeah, as if the streets were not flooded. Damn, this was getting on my nerves.

"David, hey!"

A call of my name from behind made me halt and stare back up, seeing that it was my colleague, Kate. She had the same worried look my face had been having since earlier.

Carefully, I went back up and lend a hand, helping her to descend safely. She was wearing heels that looked unbearable to the feet.

"Be careful," I said, not even bothering with my shoes anymore. "I was not expecting the downpour. Was there a warning of an incoming typhoon?"

"I don't even know, I have not watched the news nor checked on my feed for a couple of days already," she answered.

The view was gut-wrenching once he headed down. We both had to stop in frustration, along with the other stranded people, as we stared out at the streets, now looking as if it was a river of murky water.

"Yeah, in no way would I swim in that water," Kate said.

I inhaled sharply. "What a f*****g night."

"What do you think we should do?" Kate asked, her pretty face showing a big nope to the situation.

"Uhh," I trailed off when I have seen the man beside me thrown all the regards left in his body, and dipped in, not caring about the rain and the dirty water. "I guess, well, what can we do?"

Goddamn. I should've not thought about not dipping myself in when the fellow started to submerge himself in that damned disgusting water.

God knew that my work was not the best career in life, but then I always, always, made sure that the incentive for being at work every time there was a shift, was in my payslip. Being absent was not in my damned vocabulary. Worse things happened in my life before that this rain barely deterred me.

"If you could hold my shoes while I carry you, that will be great," I said.

With no other choice in such a f****d up situation, I squatted down and folded my jeans up to my knees.

"Sorry, what?" Kate sounded bewildered, laughing at the absurd plan I had. "You're going to piggyback me to work?"

"I mean, if you'd rather walk with me than get carried, that's also plausible. Still want to go to work, or no?" I asked, knowing already that she'd choose the getting carried around by me rather than walking.

She bit her bottom lip. "Uhh, well, are you sure you can carry me?"

The couple of weeks had stopped me from going to the gym, but with how my lean body towered over her, struggling would be the least of my problem.

"Yeah, I can handle it," I said, giving her a charming smile to at least make her feel better.

I squatted and untied the laces of my shoes, afterward removing my socks, putting both inside my pocket. I turned around and looked at Kate, seeing her uncertainty all over her face. As much as she hated having to go through this, I guess there were no other options to consider. With that much rain, it would take hours for the flooded street to clear.

I positioned myself and hunched my back, and waited for her to hop up. "Come on, better late than never"

"Okay," she said, and with that, straddled her legs around my body. "I'm sorry, let me open the umbrella."

We ventured through the rainy night. The outcry of the sky was not powerful enough to kill the traffic, and the crowd seemed to be of the same count as that of a sultry, humid night. The flood felt cold against my skin, but the warm breath hitting my nape and the softness of Kate's breasts against my back within her clothes seemed to consume the frigidity down my body.

I had to push the thoughts away as I tried my best not to step and hurt my feet on a jagged stone, or not tumble down. I had to tell myself to focus on the task, after all, I was the one who was doing all the work.

"You know, I always find you cute, David," she started, "and you smell so damn good all the time."

I was not sure if she was flirting with me, or just felt the impulse to throw some compliments to show her gratitude. And, to be honest, I accepted both. There was nothing better than hearing those words uttered by someone as attractive and soft-looking as Kate. I always had a crush on her, I found her smile and eyes so irresistible.

"Well, I hope you still find me cute in this situation," I retorted. "Besides, I think there's no better way to thank me than a bottle of Frappuccino from Bon café," I pulled out a small laugh when I joked. Well, if she would take my words seriously, then that would be fantastic.

"Just that? Nothing else?" she queried, her voice, different from before.

I didn't exactly know what she was trying to insinuate, but I got the idea. I had to swallow hard. She was beautiful. That pretty face, an excellent set of racks, and she had that personality that's bursting in positivity. Everyone in the workplace liked Kate. This could've been a chance I could snag. If she was showing an opening, I could grab it if I wanted to. After all, the attraction I had towards her still exists.

But I was not that kind of man. I knew I was nervous because she's amazing, and our personalities paled in comparison. I would rather the friendship than try anything further with a woman I always adored from behind,fine with being supportive of her in the workplace, praising her ideas, and sharing insights that would help her.

I knew better than to f**k things up and ultimately end our friendship, just because I tried. God knew how much I yearned for her, the day I'd laid my eyes on those beautiful brown eyes. Her wits, the way she talked, her beautiful handwriting, she's what I wanted. And now that it felt like I could take the offer, I suddenly balked.

"Yeah, just that," I answered, disappointed at how p***y I was, but not surprised. What surprised me was that I was not sad, just disappointed.

That had always been my f*****g attitude. Being thoroughly obsessed with something, and when the time came that I finally had the chance, I would take a step back. Being ambitious and desiring for more seemed to not be ingrained in my personality.

Being a p***y, rather than f*****g the friendship I built with this distinctive woman, was alright. I was complacent with that, and I knew as I walked forward, nearing the complex building where we work, that I'd rather the platonic relationship than the prospect of a romantic one.

When we arrived outside the building, people were looking at us. We were wet from the heavy rain, and my feet were muddy. It was cold, and I felt like I was getting the flu. The weight of Kate being lifted off my back felt fantastic. It was as if I just got home from the gym with how strained my back felt from carrying her.

"Thank you, David. I'm sorry, we should've just waited for the rain to end and the flood to subside," Kate apologized, straightening the back of my shirt with her palms.

I looked at her. Her small hands against the dampness of my shirt... it was just too much.

"It's alright," I smiled a genuine one, flustered. I took the shoes she was holding. "Head inside, I'd get myself changed, I have clothes in my locker."

And with that, she patted my shoulder and headed inside. All I could do was watch her walk inside as thoughts of how good it might've felt if I snaked my arm around her body, us, going to work as a couple. With a sigh, I walked barefoot, ignoring the worried look of people, some as wet as I was, some in fear of being drenched as they head home, out into the tempestuous night.

I thankfully kept a change of clothes in my locker. I entered the comfort room and washed my feet. I quickly changed my attire and kept the wet clothes in a bag, tossed it inside the locker, and rushed towards the elevator.

As I've waited inside the lift, I couldn't help but wonder what Stan was up to. I hoped he was fine. As I did, the impulse to read the two messages he had sent me from last week, the ones I have not yet read, grew stronger. I was afraid of knowing that I have disappointed him, that I had to leave while he was in the shower.

Worse, I have promised him I'd spend the night in his bed. And yet, I left without a warning. I had to push the thoughts back in my mind, but I was nervous. Those were just two messages, why couldn't I f*****g read them? Besides, it was nothing but a one-night stand.

Not understanding why I was so afraid of what he might've thought of me, I decided that I'd read those messages after work. Since a week had passed already, it wouldn't matter anyway. As the elevator reached the floor where I would spend the long hours of the night at, I couldn't help but wonder if stalling for a week was enough.

I really hoped that it wouldn't matter, but I knew that I was utterly attracted to him, and the more I thought of ignoring it, the more it agitated me.