No Time To Doubt

After braving the crowd around the bar I found her upstairs. She was leaning against a balcony overlooking the dancefloor, looking slightly uncomfortable as a gussied-up guy leaned in too close trying to talk to her. A look of relief crossed over her when she saw me approaching.

"Thanks babe," she said as she took her drink from my hands while giving me a look that said 'pay attention'. She then turned to the guy and introduced me: "This is my boyfriend," she said while waving her hand at me.

Catching on, I was more than happy to play the role of her saviour, and managed to mostly mask my initial surprise as the Gussie looked me up and down as if to say 'who, this guy?'

Normally, I'm not socially adept enough to navigate situations like this with any sort of poise, having a tendency to get in my own head. But in this case it was different - instead of being me, I was being asked to play a role. The 'boyfriend' I was imagining was suave and magnanimous, so I would be too. I guess that must be what gave me the confidence to put my arm around Cara and draw her to me in a side-hug while giving the Gussie a courteous smile and a polite "Hi". Cara initially stiffened in surprise at my hug, but quickly recovered and melted against me, playing along.

Turns out the Gussie was a 'friend' of Cara's from her university, now working as a publicist (yuck), hence his invite to this after-party. "How long have you guys known each other?" he enquired after some awkward introductions. I guess he was trying to one-up me.

"Uh, what's the date today?" I asked.

"24th."

"About 5 hours," I answered with mock sincerity, even though it was true.

"Oh shut up," intervened Cara, twisting in my embrace to hit me on the arm. "He means 5 months. I'm still getting used to his Kiwi sense of humour."

The first rule of improvising is to play along with your scene partner, so I smiled innocently and said "Sorry, sometimes I can't help myself."

It was Cara's turn to improvise. "The first time he met my parents he introduced himself as a 'boyfriend for hire', that goes around helping closeted lesbians convince their parents they aren't gay. My mum still tells me she 'would love me anyway' every time I'm on the phone with her, no matter how many times I tell her it was a joke."

"Yeah, in hindsight it wasn't a great first impression for me to give," I added, giving Cara an extra squeeze for emphasis.

The Gussie gave a polite chuckle then excused himself and melted away to look for easier prey, leaving us holding each other. I decided I wasn't going to let go until she did. It seems she decided the same.

"Thanks for playing along," she said.

"Any time," I responded truthfully.

"That was fun," Cara said, looking up at me with a content smile. "You should pretend to be my boyfriend more often. But maybe we should agree on some background details to avoid another '5 hours' incident."

"Or..." I began, "we could make up new details every time and the other person has to play along. Unless we are talking to someone you actually care about."

"Oh no..." she said in resignation, hiding her smile in her free hand because she knew she was going to accept and was already imagining how wrong it would go.

"Cara!" came a voice from the side, as a woman around our age approached with excitement. Cara had to let go of me to give her a hug. I learned this was someone Cara had toured with, and they had got on well. After introducing me as her boyfriend, the newcomer asked "So, how did you guys meet?" That was the opening I was looking for.

"We were both in the same sailing class. They had little one-man sailing boats to teach us. Cara managed to lose control of hers and ram into me, which basically capsized us both."

"Hey!" Cara said defensively, "You're leaving out the part where you turned like right in front of me. The instructor said you didn't follow the rules for right-of-way."

"Anyway, she felt guilty enough that she was obligated to buy me a drink after that," I finished. Knowing I had instantly thrown her under the bus, I looked over to see a trademark withering glance coming my way.

"Wow!" Cara's friend jumped in. "I wish my first dates were that exciting."

It was Cara's turn to get revenge. "Yeah well on our second date he parked in a no-parking zone and his car got towed so I don't know if you'd call that exciting." She stuck her tongue out at me.

"I still maintain that the sign wasn't there when I parked there."

"Oh yeah, I suppose they put the sign up at the same time they painted the 'no parking' symbol on the ground - you know, while you were parked on top of it..."

"They could have towed me and then painted it. We didn't check if the paint was still wet."

Cara rolled her eyes exasperatedly at her friend, who had a wide smirk at our banter. "Wow," she laughed, "you guys are really cute together."

"Thank you," I said, at the same time Cara replied "We know..."

*****Chapter 5*****

There were a handful of other people Cara said 'hi' to - the best roleplay we did was when Cara claimed we were engaged and then I had to quickly improvise an explanation about why we didn't have rings because "Love is an emotional connection, not a physical connection, and it transcends material possessions."

Somehow Cara convinced me to dance. My theory about dancing is that to look good you have to throw away your inhibitions and just do what comes naturally, but I still wasn't quite ready to look like a complete idiot in front of her, so I mainly tried to copy what she was doing but in a slightly more masculine way. She looked like she was having fun, so I had fun too.

Once again I cursed suits for being so hot, and when we left the club into the cold night air the steam rising off us mixed with the fog from our breath as I began walking her back to her hotel room. The coldness of the night didn't stop Cara's eyes from lighting up when we saw a late-night ice cream stand during the walk - by this point I was confident enough to say "I'll buy this round if you get the next one," that way she would be obligated to see me again. We each got a taste of the other's ice cream on the walk back, which if you have ever done you will know feels weirdly intimate.

As we approached her hotel I started getting nervous how I would say goodbye. We had pretended to be in a relationship for half the night but I wasn't sure what was real and what was 'playing a character', and I didn't want to presume any attraction on her behalf. Was this a date? Is she expecting a kiss? Or was it just a platonic activity to make the night more bearable? Probably best to just ask to meet again sometime and then walk away before it gets too awkward. And don't forget to ask for her number this time.

Before I could act on this plan she stopped, turning to me and taking my hands. The yellow light from the hotel lobby washed over the smoothness of her cheeks, distracting me from her nervous expression. "Don't get the wrong idea, but would you like to come in for some tea or something? Not in a 'invite you back to my place' kind of way, I don't really do that sort of thing, more like a 'I don't want the night to be over, let's keep hanging out'... I don't know, maybe there's a board game in my room or something..." she let herself trail off.

"Oh," I was caught off guard, "um, yeah... that sounds good." I managed to end with a smile, which she gratefully returned.

She kept hold of one of my hands as we entered the lobby, and while we waited in the lift, in what I feared was becoming an awkward silence. Our connected palms were clammy, her grip a little too tight, so it was a bit of a relief when she had to let go to pick out her room card.

By this point I was in my own head, cursing myself for being unable to find anything to break the silence, the panic only making it harder to actually think of something. I accepted her offer to make tea even though I don't really care for it, just because it would've felt more awkward to refuse. That left me sitting quietly on her couch while she boiled the kettle, not sure what to do with my hands. She disappeared into her room for a moment, then came out with my saviour - an acoustic guitar.

A guitar has been my shield for many a social situation. At family gatherings I used to play it so I could sit to the side of the group conversation and listen without having to engage in small talk, but still feel like I was participating. Sometimes I play a guitar when having a difficult one-on-one conversation too, absentmindedly plucking away to control the mood and fill the silences. This was where I felt at home.

She took it out of its case and handed it to me. "Play me a song," she requested with a smile. There wasn't a question mark at the end, she knew what she wanted and she knew I would deliver. I could tell she was expecting something special - a one-on-one performance between two musicians rarely isn't, and the night leading up to this was a perfect primer for a moment of connection. I tuned the guitar while she finished making the tea, then plonked herself down on the floor since there wasn't any other chair that would let her watch me. I wanted something soft and sweet, and I happened to have a song like that I'd written when I was younger, about chances at love passing by. So I worked up the courage to play it (albeit without telling her it was one of mine). I'm not a great singer, but I know enough to understand it's more about feeling the emotion than it is about raw ability, and the emotion came easily to me tonight.

When I was finished she had an 'Awww...' expression, perhaps even a little teary, so I knew I'd done alright. "You're turn," I passed her the guitar, mostly managing to hide my pride at her reaction. She played a slowed-down version of a rock song, I knew enough of the words to sing along to the chorus. Unlike me, she was a lead vocalist, so naturally she knocked it out of the park.

She sat next to me on the couch, while we nursed our teas. After a short pause she spoke up. "Tonight was fun. I really like hanging out with you, my face hurts from smiling. You should be my boyfriend more often..." She was looking straight ahead, but cast a furtive glance in my direction at the last part.

It took a second for me to process what she said, then I replied "Deal" a little too quickly, like a used car salesman who was expecting to have to negotiate a lot harder to close the sale.

She laughed and then scooted closer on the couch to lean into me. It felt so natural to put my arm around her, and we snuggled into the warmth of our tea cups.

"I get to repay the compliment now. You have an amazing laugh, and you make me want to do things outside my comfort zone just so I can experience them with you. It's actually sort of dangerous. And as your boyfriend, I can tell you that you have the cutest smile I've ever seen."

She was too shy to look at me during the shower of praise (which was good for me because I was blushing furiously), but I could tell the smile broke out again. I planted a kiss on the top of her head, since that was what I had access to, and she cooed so I did it again.

She turned now, and there was a brief moment of transcendence where our flushed faces made eye contact, before she launched herself into me and our lips mashed together.

What followed was a primal make-out session where we each tried to suffocate the other. Without stopping, she climbed onto me, straddling my lap while holding my head between her hands. I don't know what my hands were doing at this stage. She was grinding into me now, her silky dress sliding between us. I moved my hands in through the back, pulling her closer, feeling her heaving breaths through the weight of her warm body against mine.

This is going too fast. You're going to ruin it. The second-guessing brain isn't always wrong.

She sensed my momentary distraction, and pulled back to breathe for a second. I put my hands on her legs for safe keeping, catching my own breath.

"Cara, I really like you but I think we should take it slow. I want to build a relationship, and I'm worried if things move too fast we'll burn out before we actually get to know each other."

She looked embarrassed and I felt her legs squeeze around me as she tensed up. "Sorry, I don't really know what came over me, I swear I'm not usually like this..." She got up and slumped next to me on the couch.

She looked dejected and I couldn't resist the urge to pull her into a hug. "I know what you mean. Since I met you it's like I haven't been entirely in control of my body. It's a little scary, in a good way."

I became aware of her smooth softness pressed against me in our hug, and my hands started to glide along her silky contours. She hummed and buried her face in my collarbone, but this exposed her neck to me and soon my lips were tiptoeing their way up and down her nape.

Her wriggling intensified until she sat up and put her hands on my shoulders, looking me in the eye with a forlorn yearning. "I can't..." she trailed off.

"I have to go," I said. "If I stay here, I'm not going to be able to stop myself from kissing you, and then it's going to keep getting more intense, too much too fast. I feel like if I don't leave now I'll drown."

She agreed, "I know, you should go, but I don't want you to."

I stood up and put her down on her feet.

"Come back tomorrow?" she asked plaintively.

"Absolutely."

"I can do breakfast, come as soon as you wake up."

Her face was so cute I couldn't help leaning in, and suddenly we were back at it. Lip-locked while she pushed me back towards the entrance to her hotel room, shuffling awkwardly until my back was against the door. I blindly found the handle with one hand and twisted, letting me start squeezing out, still craning forward to maintain contact with her. She put a hand on my chest and pushed me out into the corridor, breaking our kiss, and we shared one last furtive look before she used both hands to close the door between us, a definitive click reverberating through the hallway.

Standing in the corridor, I found myself shaking, staring at the closed door. After a few seconds I heard a thump.

"Was that you sitting against the door?" I called.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," came the muffled reply from somewhere around waist-high.

"I'll pretend I didn't."

She let out an exasperated laugh. "Bye."

"Bye," I replied.

It took until I reached the bottom of the stairs for me to realise I still didn't have her number. Never mind, you'll get it tomorrow.

**********