Too Blind to See It!

"What the hell Jenna?"

"What?" I asked more because it was none of his business then because I didn't know what he was asking.

"You spent the night with him?" His tone was nasty and unforgiving.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." I managed to get the key to move in the hole and opened my door allowing myself the escape I so desperately desired, but before the door closed safely behind me Zach had also made his way in banging his roller bag and duffle on his way through the door.

"Jenna, please just tell me you didn't."

By now the anger was welling up inside me, and I had to take a deep breath so I wouldn't explode. "Look I already told you it's none of your business."

"Then why did you share your secret with me. Why did you tell me if it wasn't any of my business."

He was right, and I was trying to come up with an answer for him, maybe something about friendship, but he grabbed me by my shoulders. "I care about you Jenna. I just don't want to see him taking advantage of you. I don't want you to feel pressured by him."

He still had me by the shoulders, but I looked away before I answered. "He was a perfect gentleman. We just fell asleep at his place, nothing happened." I managed to wiggle free and step away from him. "Not that I owe you an explanation."

"I know you're pissed at me. Phoebe made that very clear, but wouldn't go into why. Can you please not play games with me Jenna? I get enough of that from Allison."

Me? Playing games with him? "That's not all you get from Allison!" I spat before my brain connected with my mouth.

"What are you talking about?" His look implied that it was a sincere question, not one formulated to make himself look innocent of wrong doing.

It was time to save myself. I had to say something that wouldn't make me look jealous. Something that would make this whole thing seem like no big deal. "Look, you having sex with your girlfriend is none of my business." OK, I failed miserably.

He laughed a little, not a ha ha laugh, more of a pft that escaped, that sounded like a laugh. "Is that what this is about? Me sleeping with Allison?" He waited for a response, but didn't get one, I just turned away embarrassed at the ass I'd just made of myself. Like I didn't look stupid enough over this. "You're right it's none of your business, not if you spending the night with Marc isn't my business, but you told me so I'm going to tell you. I haven't slept with her in months."

Thank God my back was still toward him because I couldn't let him see the tears that forced their way down my cheeks. Was he lying to me? He had to be lying. I heard what was going on in their apartment. He had to be, but that wasn't Zach. He wasn't a liar. I faced out the window wanting to believe him with every ounce of my being. He slowly walked closer to me; I could hear his footsteps on the hard wood wrecking havoc on my nervous system. He didn't stop until he was pressed right against my back in a completely inappropriate way for him to be touching me if we were just friends. I leaned back into him encouraging him to wrap his arms around me, knowing what a fool I was being for giving in to him. It didn't matter at that moment though nothing did. It felt better than anything I'd ever felt before. His arms around me, being pressed into him was better than any kiss I'd ever experienced. My body raged with excitement, the feelings I wish that single Marc Staal could create in me. "I have to go…Road trip. I'll be back in four days." I was very aware of his schedule; I am a Devils fan after all. I wanted to scream at him to not to let go, that when he let go my butterflies would go with him, that if he did I'd spend the entire four days trying to figure out if he was telling the truth about Allison. He kissed the top of my head and that's when his arms dropped and he made his way back toward the door. I finally turned to face him, not particularly caring if he saw me crying or not.

"It's just four days Jenna. I have one simple request, and maybe I have no right to make a request, but I'm going to do it anyway. Please…Please don't fall in love with Marc Staal while I'm gone." His eyelids pressed together tightly before, he turned and walked out the door his eyes not meeting mine, almost like he couldn't bear it.

****

Four days is a long time, a LOoooong time. The first day of Zach's road trip I spent trying to work through what happened with Zach aided by my best friend. Unfortunately she didn't actually provide any aid.

"'Don't fall in love with Marc Staal?' What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Phoebe questioned. "And what does he mean he hasn't slept with Chewbacca in months?"

"I know. Right?" I was praying Phoebe in her infinite wisdom about men could shed some light on what was going on here.

"I'm at a loss Jenna girl. I don't deal with guys like Parise. A situation like your's would send me over the edge. He's too…well Prince Charming, and guys say we're confusing."

I put my head in my hands distraught over everything.

Phoebe sat down next to me and pulled me into her holding me like she always did when I had problems. "Look I'm not good with feelings and emotions. I can't tell you what Prince Charming is thinking, I would if I could." She got a funny smirk on her face, and I should have known what was coming. "I might not know that kind of stuff but I can tell you what position to do it in for the perfect orgasm every time. That's knowledge that will come in handy for you someday. You'll be begging me for that shit."

I couldn't help but laugh. She's so..so..Phoebe. "I'll take a rain check on that advice Pheebs. Thanks."

So instead of getting advice from Pheebs, I got a bottle of peach schnapps, orange juice and sprite, and a girlie movie marathon. My choices Pretty Woman and Pride and Prejudice, the newest version with Keira Knightley. Her choices Fatal Attraction and Sid and Nancy. Phoebe just thinks differently than most people in the world.

The second day of Zach's road trip I had a paper to write. I sat on my bed with my trusty lap top, my hands perched on the keys, all ready to go. Nothin'. My research was spread out in front of me, and I was comfortable in my NY Jets PJ's, all ready to go. Nothin'. It took me six hours not including breaks to write a paper that should have taken me two hours. My mind just seemed to have better places to be.

I woke up on Day three of his road trip, and couldn't get him out of my mind. As hard as I tried to have a day without Zach thoughts, it wasn't in the cards, so I laid there and tried to figure out if Zach was telling the truth when he said he hadn't slept with Allison in months? I had no reason to doubt Zach, he'd never been anything but honest with me as far as I knew. I trusted him enough to share the news of my intact hymen, and he felt more than trustworthy when he saved me from that caveman in the club the other night. No, Zach was not a liar, which meant that his sleazy girlfriend was worse than I ever imagined.

What kind of woman does that? Was it a random guy she was sleeping with in Zach's bed? Maybe she had only one lover and that was him on the other side of that door. Maybe she fell in love with someone else and that has been the problem in her relationship with Zach? No excuse she could come up with would make what she was doing to him less than disgusting. No excuse would make her less of a whore in my mind. Allison had absolutely no redeeming qualities. She was emotionally detached from Zach, which was now evident with all her trips and time out with friends. She was sleeping with at least one other man besides her boyfriend and she was a liar, a no good cheat. I wanted Zach to want me. There's was no use denying it at that point, but as much as I wanted it, I still didn't want him to get hurt. He was going to be hurt over this, there was no question in my mind. The man that stood in his living room looking at old photos of who he thought was the love of his life would not be Ok when he learned that his suspicions were correct and Allison was having an affair.

I had proof. I'd caught her. If what he said was true, and I'd convinced myself that it was, then I caught her with another man. I had the power to end his relationship with Allison by spouting just a few words. That easy, I could have Zach all to myself, if he even wanted me. For a moment I felt powerful like I held the ring that could destroy Sauraman just by tossing it into the volcano at center of middle earth. We all know what a daunting task that was, and did I really want to be the one that told Zach about Allison, confirmed his suspicions, broke his heart?

Life was so much easier when it was just a little crush I had on Zach. My feelings were small, insignificant, manageable. Now things were hurdling out of control. It was all too much for me, trying to figure out if Zach did want me the way I wanted him, wondering if they were hints he was throwing my way or just friendly gestures, if he held me because he needed me and wanted me or if it was comfort from a bad situation he wanted from his friend Jenna. I was drowning in the unknown, and when Marc called asking to take me out (and unknowingly save me from myself), I couldn't turn him down. When I learned of his plans for us, I actually found myself excited.

The air bit into my skin, but Marc held me close and wrapped the blanket tightly around me. The sound of the horses clip clopping in front of us and the hum of the horseman provided the perfect background music for the perfect date. My whole life I lived on the doorstep of New York City and never, not once had I taken a carriage ride through Central Park. Marc had made arrangements for us to have more than the usual 20 minute lap, and I soaked in every minute of it. It felt comfortable being wrapped in Marc's arms, having him steal little kisses between facts the driver threw at us.

There are 9,000 benches in Central Park and if set from end to end would stretch over seven miles. "Very educational this little excursion." I whispered into his ear.

"I aim to please," he whispered back and brought me into the most passionate kiss we'd shared to that moment. Marc kissed me like he savored every moment, like I was a delicacy and he couldn't get enough, but he wouldn't push his luck by being glutenous either. Marc liked me, really liked me and he used this kiss to express how much. He sure knew how to kiss and when he pulled away, he just stared down into my eyes for a moment before he pressed me against his chest. As great as the kiss was, and it was great, sadly, there were no butterflies. Marc did give me something however, a feeling of contentment, a consistent message, a life preserver in the sea of Zach Parise I otherwise couldn't escape.

For as long as I could remember, I craved the feeling of butterflies, whether from the excitement of a roller coaster or tingle of the first kiss, I loved the feeling. As reserved, calm, cool and collected as I was, the high of that moment the loss of control brought to me, was something I craved. It's why the description of the perfect man, my perfect relationship included butterflies. Sitting in that carriage with Marc knowing how much he liked me, how perfect he was, I considered for the first time, that maybe butterflies weren't so important after all.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked him as we perched outside of my apartment door. The question came out before I had the opportunity to realize what the consequences of inviting him in might entail. It was something I needed to be more aware of each time we were together.

I felt relieved when he replied, "As much as I'd love that, I have a game tomorrow. I should be getting home." He didn't wait for approval, he pressed me softly against the corner of my door jam and kissed me. His tongue found it's way into my mouth and my hands wrapped into his hair. It was mind numbing really, the way his lips moved against mine, and when I felt my body heat up, I knew it was time to call it a night. I pulled away abruptly before he could intoxicate me and make things more passionate.

“Come to my game tomorrow night," he breathed out.
 
“No,” I replied matter-of-factly.
 
“No?” He was clearly surprised at my answer.
 
I was on the verge of giving up butterflies to be with him, but a girl has to have her priorities straight. “I’m a New Jersey Devil’s fan Marc, in case you haven’t noticed. It is forbidden for me to step foot in the garden unless I’m wearing a Devils jersey and rooting for the boys from across the river.”
 
“You seriously won’t come?” He looked like a wounded puppy.

"Not tomorrow."

"But someday?" He looked hopeful.

"I'll think about it."

He pressed back into me taking my lips in his. Kissing me this time without reservation. My body was telling me how good it felt, my mind was thinking of ways I could convince him to stay, but my heart held off. When he finally pulled away my lips were swollen with evidence that I'd just been kissed, really kissed. "Just wanted to give you something else to think about," he said, before he turned and walked down the hallway.

****

It was pretty early when Marc left me on my doorstep wanting more kissing. I was inspired, and sat up all night working on my stories. When last I had left the main character, Sidney, he'd gotten himself into a bit of a mess with the only woman he ever loved, could ever imagine himself loving. So all night I worked on getting him out of that mess and making it up to the object of his affection. It was good, the story was good, and it was 6AM and the sun was rising before I knew it. I shut my laptop, smiling knowing I'd just spent some therapeutic time with old friends, and curled up with my pillows for some much needed sleep.

I was in the middle of dream, a beautiful dream, a dream I was unable recall because I was awoken so abruptly by harsh banging on my door. I sat straight up trying to get my bearings. What time was it? Who was banging on my door at this ungodly hour? Why were they banging so frantically.

All I could think was that this had better be good. Phoebe better be freaking running from the police, and holding a bag of diamonds she was willing to share, because I was tired, and pissed off that I wasn't nested under those warm covers on my bed. I threw open the door, and before I could focus on the figure in my doorway, yelled, "WHAT?"

He didn't speak, just stood there looking at me running his hand through his hair. I had no time to ponder how I was dressed or that my hair might be a mess, he pushed by me seeking what seemed like refuge in my apartment.

All the anger over being woken up three hours into sleep had vanished and was replaced by fear. Zach looked terrible… frantic, and he sat on my couch ringing his hands. "Are you Ok?" I asked softly.

"No. No I'm not OK. I gave her two hours. Two hours, and she better be out of my apartment!"