Be Mine

"Hey, just let me order my drink." Whoa, he interrupted me. "Yo!" he called to the bartender. The bartender rolled his eyes but drifted over, anyway.

"Let's do shots," Tristan muttered to me. "Can we get shots of Jameson, bro?"

The bartender--who was a sturdy Irishman of about 45--didn't look too thrilled about being called "bro", but he poured out the whiskey anyway.

"I hate doing shots, actually," I whispered.

Tristan glanced at me with disbelief. "Seriously? Come on, live a little!"

Not liking the insinuation, especially since I'd been trying so hard to be outgoing lately, I angrily slammed the shot down my throat. The whiskey burned on its way down and brought tears to my eyes.

"Thatta girl!" Tristan laughed. "Yo, bro, can we get 2 more?"

"I cannot do another shot," I said. We hadn't even talked and he was trying to get me drunk!

"Whatever, just one then, man."

The bartender kind of gave me a look like "What are you doing here?" and everything clicked into place.

Tristan was an asshole and I had a penchant of drawing them to me. Draping my apartment with age-old feng shui tricks wasn't going to change the fact that I had a lot of internal shit to deal with. I didn't believe in myself. I didn't think I was worthy of a great guy--a guy like Anthony, the owner of the crystal shop. I didn't even try to flirt with him because I was too afraid! But then I didn't know what he was really like, either. I was fond of grabbing on to my superficial first impressions, instead of reading the signs.

Buying crystals and talking to my bamboo plant and going out with guys I knew I wasn't going to like already was not going to change my life. I had to do the heavy-lifting, just like my mom said.

Mabel meant well, and she was right when she said I had to loosen up, but I was over dating for practice. I was ready for the real thing. I just had to make adjustments inside myself now.

"I'm leaving," I announced. I didn't even care what Tristan had to say, but then I figured that was rude of me. "I'm not feeling well."

"Are you for real?" Tristan asked me, his beautiful but vacant blue eyes popping out of his head.

"Yep. Totally for real."

"I should have known you would be a major waste of time," he sighed. "I didn't like your profile. You just seemed easy."

I knew what he meant, which was why I didn't get too upset. Emphasis on the "too". He didn't mean slutty/easy- at least I don't think he did. He meant effortless. The kind of relationship you didn't have to work on, or for. The kinds of relationships I always had.

I got up without another word, tipped the bartender well because if Tristan was really anything like my exes, I doubted he would, and walked out into the brisk February cold.

I walked bravely back to my apartment, not bothering with a taxi even though it was freezing and the walk was long. I needed the fresh air.

I somberly climbed the stairs, unlocked my apartment, took one look at the Shakespeare tan smeared across my walls and promptly burst into tears.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"It's snowing," Anna whispered, peeking out the blinds of my apartment.

"It's late," I sniffled, ignoring the magical wonder in her voice. I glanced at my phone. "Nearly midnight. Andrew must be worried."

Anna left the window and snuggled up next to me on the couch. "He can worry. You're my best friend. You need me."

"I love you, Anna."

She kissed my cheek. "You're going to be fine. Don't you see how far you've come, how stomping out of that bar was a good thing?"

"Yeah," I said, fighting a sob. "It's just that I tried so hard. I see now it was all so superficial."

"Not all of it. You're opening yourself up, bit by bit. And I love you because of how hard you fight. You're going to find your happy ending, babe. I swear."

Anna slept over like a true friend, ignoring my protests, and brought me back a bagel in the morning.

"I'm sorry you couldn't give Andrew breakfast in bed," I whined, my nose all stuffed up.

"Andrew isn't awake yet," Anna snorted. "I'm going back to surprise him now. Stop worrying. He was upset for you, too, and totally understood. So what are your plans for the day, Harper? I think you should make it all about you."

"I have to work." I groaned long and loudly. "It's going to be all about stupid flowery poetry and lovestruck teenagers."

Anna laughed and put her coat back on. "If there's anyone who can handle it, it's you."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Mabel felt awful about my date.

She fidgeted. "I feel terrible. Personally responsible!"

"Mabel, you didn't make the man a douche."

"But I forced you out there!" She dabbed at her eyes and sat down to put more powder on her face.

The woman unbelievably had a date with a guy her age who owned a bakery down the street. How she had the stamina, I didn't know.

"You didn't force me to do anything. I rearranged the world around me... Now it's time to rearrange the world inside. It's not your fault Mabel."

She got up and squeezed my arm. "I know you didn't want to be alone this Valentine's Day, and I hope you realize you're not. Think of all of us who love you. We're your real Valentines. Okay?"

"Okay," I smiled.

Her date walked in right about then, dressed in a suit and carrying a rose. I sighed a bit. The romance still lingered in their hearts, no matter what age. They didn't have online dating and feng shui and all that bullshit to contend with. They kept things simple.

"See you later, doll. And cheer up. Take any book you want okay?"

Mabel smiled for her date, dancing over to him and disappearing into the flurrying day reserved for St. Valentine.

Bored out of my mind, as most people shopping for romantic poetry were out reciting it to their dates, I looked around the shop. I wasn't bored enough to chat with Frank, who was currently blowing his nose and reading comic books, so I picked up the nearest book. It was a collection of sensual love poems. Ugh.

But I read on, my eyes drifting over a poem by a late first century poet named Izumi Shikibu.

"In this world/ love has no color--/ yet how deeply/ my body/ is stained by yours."

My heart beat quickly with both fire and longing at those deeply visceral lines. I'd get that one day--I was sure of it now. I had the epiphany Dr. Lange was driving me towards. The rest would fall into place.

The bell of the shop rang and I looked up at the man brushing off snow. When he looked up, I just about died. It was Anthony, the owner of Crystal Clear.

His hazel eyes scanned the store and then stopped on me. His eyebrows went up in surprise. "Hi! Rose Quartz Girl!"

My own smile deflated some. What a way to be remembered.

"That's me."

"Sorry," he laughed, "I just don't know your name."

"It's Harper," I said, surprising myself at how calm I was being. I even put out my hand to shake his.

He took it and his hand was so warm and manly I nearly melted like the snowflakes on his face. "Nice to officially meet you, Harper. I'm Anthony." He looked around again and noticed Frank, breathing loudly in the corner due to his constant congestion. Anthony gave me a look. "So this is what you're doing on the most romantic day of the year?! Don't tell me the rose quartz didn't work."

"Sorry to say it didn't. Nor did the two-stalked bamboo plant or the red curtains, or the romantic pictures I put all over my walls." I giggled at myself, realizing how crazy it all sounded. "But it's okay. It was fun, regardless. So how can I help you?"

"I need to buy a book for my niece," he explained. "I always get her a little something on Valentine's Day."

Shit.

"That's so cute. We have some Valentine's Day books for kids over here."

He followed me and I swore I could feel his eyes on my ass, but that was likely wishful thinking.

He picked out a book and went with me to the register.

"Hey," he said once I handed him his change, "I'm not doing anything today and I'd love to hear all about your feng shui journey. Would you like to go grab a drink with me? Once you get off, I guess."

Between his offer and the smile on his face, my heart didn't know whether to go into cardiac arrest or to sprout wings.

"Definitely. I get off in two hours, at 7."

"Perfect. I know an awesome little pub we can go to that won't be too crazy. We can have delicious wings and I'll let you know what crystals to get next."

He laughed without any pretentiousness or self-consciousness. He was confident in a non-obnoxious way. So unlike all my other boyfriends who made endlessly ridiculous and over-the-top gestures to impress.

"I'll come get you then," Anthony said with a big smile.

I couldn't fucking wait.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"You actually painted over your whole apartment because of a feng shui book?" Anthony asked, snorting as he tried to take a sip of his beer.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "If you only knew how many people asked me that question. Yes, I really did paint over my whole apartment because feng shui told me to."

Anthony knocked his shoulder into mine. "It's okay. I've done the same thing."

"Really?"

"Yes. I've had my heart broken more than a few times. You're willing to do the craziest shit to make the pain stop. I get it."

We were quiet for a few minutes.

The pub around us was busy and loud but it was such a fun place. And I loved sitting next to him.

"So do you like working at that bookstore?"

"Sometimes." I told him about how I used to work in publishing.

"Do you want to go back into that?" His hazel eyes never left my face and I was a little dizzy from his continued attention. He didn't notice the big tits next to him or the skinnier girl to my left.

"No. I didn't like it. I want to write."

"Awesome," he said. "I like owning the shop. It was my mom's originally, by the way, but she and my dad moved to Florida and she felt so terrible leaving it behind I took it over. I'm really an architect, though. I love it. I actually just went on an interview to join an up and coming firm. I'm excited about that."

"Wow. I don't even know anything about architecture."

He laughed. "I'll teach you." He looked down at the bar and noticed the book of love poems I brought from the book store. "Do you like poetry?"

"Yes. But not the everyday cheesy crap that are forever written in script in those terribly tacky cards. I like ones you don't hear that often, that really mean something."

"Hmm," he nodded. "I have to go home soon and feed my dog. Would it be okay if I got your number? I want to do this again."

"Of course," I breathed. I gave it to him and he texted me so I'd have his.

I'm sure my cheeks were redder than any Valentine's Day heart that day.

He walked me home a few hours later and stood patiently out in the cold. Eventually I located my keys and clumsily unlocked my door.

"Goodnight, Harper," he said once I finally opened the door.

My smile was huge and made me look every bit like the giddy teenager I felt like. "Goodnight, Anthony."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

We became friends fast. He stopped over my apartment a lot on his way home from work just to chat with me. We went out to dinner a couple of times and he always paid, but he never tried to kiss me.

Anna didn't know what to make of it. Then again, she was distracted: she found out she was pregnant! Andrew was over the moon, after all.

So I was on my own with this one. I thought maybe he just wasn't that into me, like the expression always went. I even watched the movie a few times, throwing popcorn at the TV every time someone kissed.

Dr. Lange was being weird about it. I thought maybe it was because she had originally referred to him as a friend, but our last session she seemed almost fed up with me.

"Has he given you signs he's into you?"

"Kind of. I don't know."

I could tell she was trying not to roll her eyes.

"Have you given him any signs you're into HIM?"

"I think so."

She said bye to me that day with firm lips that made her look like a serious psychologist instead of one that had dangling butterfly earrings on.

He came over exactly two weeks after Valentine's Day. He wasn't his normal joking self. He was uneasy and uncomfortable, restlessly pacing around and ignoring the pepperoni pizza I ordered for him. His eyes caught on the book of love poems I brought home on Valentine's Day. He picked it up and thumbed through it.

"Am I stuck in the friend zone with you, Harper?" he asked, not looking up.

My heart stopped. "What?"

He let his breath out slowly and moved his gaze to me. "I like you. I keep trying to give you hints but you don't notice, or pretend not to. You're crazy and yeah, you are incredibly neurotic and weird, but I like you. I come over almost every night like a dog following around his master for scraps. Just so we're clear, your laughter is my scraps, not the pizza you order for me." He smiled all too briefly.

"But you don't give anything more. You're so stuck in your head." He rubbed his head. "I really didn't want to do this, to make it awkward, but I like you too much not to say anything."

"Wow," I gasped. My mind couldn't catch up, but thankfully my heart did and took over the power of speech. "I like you. I just didn't think you could like me back."

He smiled but then his face grew serious and he held up the book. "This sums up what I'm feeling right now. My stares and my little touches and hints aren't getting me anywhere. Hopefully me stating exactly how I feel, though I totally don't feel like a man right now, will get it through your head I want you. I know you don't like pedestrian poetry so... Here goes."

He cleared his throat. "It was as if she had brought the cooling rain,/ the breeze through the curtained window,/ the taste of the bourbon,/ so that I turned to the street again,/ happy in the traffic and the rain."

Anthony looked back up at me. "What do you think? Do I have a chance, even though I just read you cheesy poetry?" he asked, his eyes glowing from across the apartment.

I was tired of my defeatist bullshit. I was tired of being negative and down on myself all the time. It finally happened for me--I finally found someone I could really love. And I fucking deserved it, and him, goddamnit, and I wasn't letting this gorgeous creature out of my sight.

I got up shakily and hugged him, kissing his neck. "Hell to the fucking yes."

He laughed. "Thanks to Harvey Shapiro, then. The poet who got you to notice me."

"You got me to notice you. You and your rose quartz."

Anthony moved back. His stare flickered between my eyes and lips.

And then he kissed me. It was wonderful. Marvelous. Transcendent. Everything I ever wanted and more, and never had before or would again.

This was it. Anthony was it.

He pulled back, lips wet and eyes twinkling. "Wow."

"Yeah," I laughed back. "Wow is right."

"Definitely not in the friend zone," he joked.

We kissed and walked together until I ran my calf into the corner of my coffee table. We laughed and ran our hands over each other's bodies.

He kissed my neck. "I'm so glad my friend recommended your store. Should have known she wouldn't steer me wrong."

Something began to click into place in my mind. "Your friend? What's her name?"

He smiled down at me. "Penelope Lange. She's married to my best friend. She likes all that feng shui stuff, too, actually."

I froze. "Penelope?"

Then I erupted into giggles. Anthony watched me with a confused smile. When I calmed down, I explained what happened. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"That Penelope. She knew I was looking for a nice girl like you." His hand skimmed down my arm. "I think this was probably unethical of her, but I won't report her. She's too good a matchmaker.

I brought him to my bedroom. He smirked at the rose-colored curtains, the dead bamboo plant, the portraits of couples in love. I pushed him and his smirk thankfully transitioned into the soft smile I loved so well.

We undressed slowly and silently, never taking our eyes off the other. He was as perfect beneath those clothes as I thought he would be. His cock was a perfect size and hard... because of me. It was going to take me a while to get used to that (and I was going to love every second of it).

He laid me down on my bed and covered me, his body warm and strong. I hadn't felt so protected and cared for in a long, long time... If ever.

Anthony kissed me again and it was as lovely as the first time. I wanted music playing because I was a cliched sixteen year old (as I've said many times) so I committed the sin of tearing my lips from his.

"My iPod... it's on the night table. Can you put it on? Let's have music."

He laughed in my face but did as I asked. "You are so bizarre."

He pressed play blindly and fell back onto me, his lips dancing all over my collarbone. A few seconds later Barry Manilow's "Looks Like We Made It" blared through my iHome.

I flushed and cursed. Humiliation rolled through my stomach and I nearly died because of Barry's happy pronouncement. Thankfully I knew Anthony was into me, and knew I was a kook. He found all that endearing.

He gave me a shit-eating grin. "I never took you as a fanilow."

"Shut up."

"Maybe we should take a break and listen to the music, what do you--ow!"

I smacked his chest. Hard. "You're the one who sells healing crystals, dick."

He laughed and kissed my nose. "I don't care if you think Barry is sexy. I know you like me more."

My heart really grew wings and flew away this time. "I do. I really do." His lips met mine.

"I think it's cute," he whispered, kissing my nose. "And I'll confess I think he's kinda hot, too."

I smacked him with a pillow. "Shut up and fuck me."

He snorted. "What a mouth." His tongue licked my lips. "I like it."

At this point I lost all patience. My body moved restlessly beneath him, brushing against his cock. I was so wet that he slid against me easily. The head of his cock pushed against my pussy, and it didn't take long for him to push into me.

His tongue plunged into my mouth the same time he sank into me. We both moaned at the incredible sensation.

Anthony's hand twisted between us, and his fingers pressed against my soaked clit. He rubbed me in delicious circles that made me shake. I writhed beneath him, pushing my hips up to bring him deeper. He shoved into me relentlessly.

We groaned and begged. And cursed plenty, too.

"You close?" he asked.

I was, but the intensity in his eyes made me so much closer. I nodded and squeezed his back. "Yes."

His speed increased. He pounded me so hard we slid across the bed. One of his hands grasped my hair, while the other clutched my ass to bring me closer.

"Come for me, Harper. Come around my cock." He dipped down and took my nipple in his mouth, nipping me slightly before sucking hard. My entire body seized and melted. He took his mouth off my breast and pressed it against my ear. "Come, baby. Come!"

I didn't have to be told again. I tightened around him, bringing him further inside. He punched the mattress and moved into me one last time. He shook and growled as he released inside me in rhythmic bursts.

We held onto each other as our breathing slowed.

Anthony kissed me and laughed into my mouth. "Thank God for crystals."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Four short months later he moved in.

My mother calls me crazy. Anna skeptically says she is happy for me. Penelope Lange is overjoyed.

And I am just in love.

It isn't perfect. We fought about the neon Budweiser sign he stubbornly brought in. Anthony wants me to get rid of all my crystals. I cried when he took up half of my precious closet space.

And then we got in a few real fights, ones that left him sleeping on the sofa and me alone in the bed.

Still, I finally got what Anna said. Relationships are rarely perfect, but when you call your boyfriend an asshole and he can still say he loves you an hour later, you know it's something special.