Where the Deer and the Antelope Play

Again, there was no reply and it was with a heavy heart that I finally went to bed.

Thursday and Friday were much the same at work and in the lack of response on my phone. Silas sent two texts bragging about a score on Thursday evening and three or four more about another on Friday night. He was also exhorting me to drop my girl and get back into the "real action."

It was then that I realized I didn't know what the "real action" really was. Our efforts in the Game were little more than trickery to accomplish our own self goals, never giving our female marks, however willing, the chance at anything more than a cheap encounter. Telling myself that I was out and remembering what I'd written to Miss Molly Devers, I typed Silas a message.

I'm really out. Please don't send updates on ur scores or more encouragement on increasing mine. Don't want to ruin what I've found.

I didn't hear back from him so I assumed, and hoped, he was listening.

Saturday was a long day, spent looking at my phone in hopes that Livia would change her mind and respond, but knowing, as the hours passed, that it was a lost cause. That evening, I waited until Michigan finished slaughtering our Wildcats before I turned off the TV and headed down to Tyndale's for dinner and a beer.

A text popped in on my phone as I was walking; it was Candy texting me about our loss. She'd cheered when we were in school, and that school spirit still seemed to be in her heart. I sent a brief reply and a photo popped in of her, her husband, and her kids. I smiled for her, glad she was happy.

How's it going with Livia? U 2 going out 2nite? Several little heart emojis followed.

I wondered what I should type in reply before I finally closed the screen and put the phone in my pocket.

The waitress at Tyndale's found me a table and I ordered before pulling my phone back out. There was nothing new, so I checked the rest of the scores in the Big Ten. I smiled at the fall of one of our usual foes, but was sad to see a couple of others had progressed yet another step toward the conference championship game in December.

"Ian? Ian, it is you! Hi!"

I looked up at a blonde woman, extremely pretty and exceptionally fit.

"Hi, how are you?" I asked, trying to remember her name. She was one of my scores, but the details weren't coming to me.

She smiled. "I'm Kara and you never called me."

Kara the Anaconda Yoga-Instructor. It all came flooding back. She was one of the relatively few I'd considered calling again.

"I'm sorry, Kara. I, ah, met someone. I really thought we had a really good thing, but...she broke up with me recently. I'm still trying to get over her and, well, frankly, it's not going very well." It was the truth, though stretched around the edges and with the timeline intentionally left vague.

Surprisingly, her face took on a compassionate look. "I'm sorry, Ian. I know how that can be and hope it works out for the best for you. If it doesn't, look me up; the girls and I come in here most Saturdays."

"Thanks, Kara. I appreciate that. You take care, okay?"

"Thanks, and you, too!" She leaned in and kissed my cheek before moving on.

After paying the check, I headed home and was almost to my townhouse when my phone rang. When I saw the caller, I almost dropped it before I could accept the call.

"Livia, hi! Are you there?"

"Hi, Ian. Can we talk?"

"Definitely," I said as I sat down on my front steps. "How are you? Feeling better?"

"No. It's my fault though, and I'm so sorry. Do you think I could come over and do this in person?"

"Definitely. Anything you want," I agreed, desperate to see her. "I'll send you my address. Or wait, if you're not feeling well, I can come to you."

"Text it to me, Ian. I'll be there as soon as I can."

The connection ended and I immediately sent her my address. The messenger service said "Delivered" and then "Read" a second later.

I shot up my steps and into the house.

Living alone with no pets and having a maid service that came once a week, it only took a few minutes to make sure everything was presentable and that there were drinks and potential refreshments in the fridge. That it only took minutes was a problem since that left me with over an hour as I waited for her arrival, wondering and hoping that she'd reconsidered and that she would give me a chance.

"No, not 'me' a chance," I said to myself, "give us a chance. This isn't about me. It's about the two of us, together, or it doesn't matter anyway."

Realizing how nervous I was, I shut up, feeling rather silly. I was never like this, but then again, I couldn't remember the personal stakes ever being higher either. It was understood that there would be rejection, frequent rejection, when one played the Game, but that there was always another chance, just around the corner or, sometimes, even at the next barstool. There was only one Livia, though, and despite over twenty years of experience telling me otherwise, my heart told me that she might be the one woman out of them all that really mattered.

Thinking of that, I sat down on the rug in the middle of the front foyer and meditated, trying to get my thoughts in order. It worked, for I felt myself calming and a cool confidence slowly creep over me as it had so many times before I went out to play the Game.

Unfortunately, that came to an abrupt halt when the doorbell rang.

My heart was racing and my palms felt sweaty when I opened the door to see Livia standing before me. Her chestnut hair was down and a bit windswept, and her open coat revealed her to be wearing a dark-green sweater-dress that hugged her curves. A portfolio-type bag hung from her shoulder, but the thing that drew my attention most was the look on her face that she'd been crying.

"Livia, come in, come in! Are you okay?"

She set her face, trying to fight off more tears as she shook her head, before she stepped in against me, as if inviting me to take her in my arms and protect her from whatever it was that was bothering her. "It will be okay, Honey, just relax, it will be okay. I'm here for you."

Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say under the circumstances, for she sobbed openly as I held her close. Not sure what to do, I started patting her back and whispering, repeatedly, "It's going to be okay, Livia. It's going to be okay."

A minute passed, or maybe two, with me enjoying the chance to hold her while simultaneously being concerned about what might be bothering her and what might have driven her away so abruptly. She finally nodded against my chest, perhaps agreeing that it really would be okay or perhaps to some deep, hidden thought of her own. She started to look up at me when I gave a little smile and said, "There's a restroom here, if you need it, after that drive."

She had a hint of a smile before she took my offer, disappearing into the bathroom for several minutes. When she came out, her coat was off, her hair and makeup, as little as she needed it in my eyes, were repaired, and she was fighting to hold a smile.

"Here, let me take your coat. I'll hang it here in the closet."

"Thanks, Ian."

"Come in and have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Can we sit down at a table? I need to show you something."

"Drink?" I reminded.

"Coffee?"

"Let's go in the kitchen, then. We'll do the two-in-one special."

I brewed her coffee while she opened her bag and pulled out her laptop.

"Do you have Wi-Fi?"

"Sure." I handed her a card with my guest network and password info. She typed it in and then closed the top without showing me anything.

When the coffee was ready and finished as she wished, she took a sip. "Very good. Thank you."

I sat down on the corner opposite her and put my hand on the table, about half way, offering it if she wanted it. She did, reaching out and taking it in hers and giving a gentle squeeze

"Ian, I don't know exactly where to start. I had so much fun with you on the trip and you were such a gentleman. I found myself really liking you and was hoping to be able to see where it might go when we got home."

"Me, too, Livia."

"I know, Ian. We both felt something, and Nessa and Candy saw it, too. The whole time, though, I couldn't get it out of my mind that I'd seen you before."

"You had, remember? In line at the rental car place."

"True, but I mean that I'd seen you somewhere else. I was almost positive you'd been out with one of my friends, so I started sending low-key text messages mentioning your name in hopes that someone would respond and say 'We went out once or he's my ex or something like that' so I could solve my mystery."

I covered my mouth with my hand to cover my smile. "All that time you spent on the phone, you were checking up on me!"

She was staring at her coffee as she nodded ever so lightly, and I could see her face was redder than the cast of her hair.

"Did someone report back?"

"No, no one, so I became comfortable with you, very comfortable, and let myself go further than I intended. The night of the wedding, it was so romantic, so much fun, and I was so taken with you, that I knew I'd let you do whatever you wanted, Ian, to go as far as you wished. It's been a long time since I had a one night stand, but I felt this had a lot of potential to develop into something more, so...so I was ready. Then you turned out to be even more of a gentleman than I believed possible, and I went back to Nessa's house and cried before vibing myself off while pretending it was you doing it."

She saw my expression and her eyes widened. "Shit. You didn't do it, did you?"

I sighed. "I wanted to...and I came close, but I decided that when it happened with you, it had to be real and in person, or not at all."

She covered her face with her hands, facing more embarrassment before I gave her arm a squeeze.

"Livia, I'm honored that you thought of me, and I hope if we do it for real someday that you'll think we're even better together."

She forced herself to look up at me and saw my smile, leading her to smile, too, though as much from embarrassment as anything.

"Anyway, I thought about you all the way home, but on Sunday night when I got home, the first thing I did was get on my laptop and log into the NJ-NY Women's Forum."

"What's that?"

"Just like the name says, but it offers membership for professional women by invitation only, and the login doesn't work except for IP addresses in the metropolitan area. That's called a geo-access restriction or something like that. There are supposedly ways to work around it, but I don't know how. Anyway, I logged in when I got home, did a search for Ian Jenkins..."

"And you found something," I said with a sigh.

"Uh huh. It was from sometime back in the summer, posted by a user named DeviousMoll who told what you did when you met her, how you ran out on her afterward, and how she didn't even know your last name or how to find you until she showed up for an appointment as a new patient at her friend's dental office only to find that you were her friend's boss. She posted it all on the website and then several other women chimed in who'd been on 'dates' with you."

My heart was pounding in my chest as I realized how, like a snake pinned by its tail, my past had suddenly spun around to bite me and put an end to the only future I'd ever truly wanted. I started to reach for Livia's hand, thinking to confess, to apologize, and to beg her forgiveness, but was fearful she'd snatch it away and not give me a chance. Instead, her hand reached out, too, pressing mine down on the table.

"Let me finish, Ian, please."

I nodded, knowing that I was guilty, and my only hope was Livia having enough compassion in her heart to give me another chance.

"I saw this, Ian, and I read it over and over, but I couldn't see the Ian I knew, the man I'd gotten to know out west, in what she said. Still, there were others who agreed in some form or another so I couldn't ignore it. It made me sick to my stomach, Ian, not so much for what you'd done but that I'd let myself become so interested in you so quickly without ever suspecting this side of you. That's when I decided I couldn't take a risk, I couldn't see you any more, and I broke off contact with you."

She opened the laptop, typed for a few seconds, and then turned it where I could see.

It was a post on the women's forum website by DeviousMoll—it had to be Molly Devers, I knew—that, sadly, told the tale mostly as I recalled plus the part that Livia had revealed to me just a minute earlier. Below, she'd posted my photo, lifted straight from my practice website, and a warning that I wasn't to be trusted. The only good things, I noticed, were that she rated me as "highly skilled" in the bedroom and that I had used a condom.

I looked up at Livia and nodded. "I'm so sorry, Livia, but it's true. Basically every word. I—"

She held her hand up again. "I know, Ian, but I'm not quite done, okay."

I let her continue.

"Despite what this said, this you wasn't the same person I met and got to know in Bettleys Corners. I kept coming back and reading it again as the week passed. Seeing your text message, how sad and hurt you sounded, was so painful when I couldn't allow myself to respond. Then, Friday afternoon, I received a message from Candy."

She handed me her phone. .

Liv, hope you and Ian have a wonderful time this weekend. He likes you so much.

I reached in my pocket and pulled mine out, showing Livia Candy's message to me. She looked up at me and smiled. "You didn't respond to her either."

"I didn't want to lie to her," I replied.

She chuckled. "Same here. But, there's one more exhibit before the case concludes."

She turned the laptop back toward herself and typed a few words before looking up at me.

"On Friday night, I came home from work and was really depressed. I knew I shouldn't do it, but I went back to DeviousMoll's thread and there was a new entry. Ian, there were tears in my eyes as I read it." She turned the screen back toward me and there was a scanned copy of my note to Molly Devers.

Dear Miss (marked through),

I'm so sorry. I'm saying it up front so hopefully you'll see it before you toss this in the trash. Based on my actions, I wouldn't blame you if you did, but I ask that you hear me out.

You are a very nice, very beautiful woman, and though it wasn't my intent, I treated you poorly, much worse than you or anyone else deserves. Unfortunately, that was the way I've always operated, just seeking out physical pleasures while not trying to find love and romance. Then I met someone recently who led me to think thoughts I never considered and feel things I've never felt before, finding what I think may be love for the first time in my life.

While I don't know how it will turn out with her, I feel blessed that she's giving me the chance I never gave you or anyone else over the years. Because the emotional side of a relationship is all new to me, I'm trying to take it slow and easy, praying that the mistakes I'll almost certainly make will be relatively small and forgivable, and that she will have that forgiving spirit that I've so sorely lacked up to this point. I apologize about that, for the way I came onto you during our initial meeting, how I treated you afterward, and how I was so irresponsible to disappear without a trace considering the potential outcome of our actions, despite our precautions.

A number of months have passed since your appointment in my office and a number more since our encounter, so I apologize too about the lateness of this response, but it happens that my eyes were only recently opened to the error of my ways when I met her. I will do my best to be a better man in the future, both for Liv (the young lady I hope will be mine someday), and for myself as an example for others. I will most likely make mistakes as I move forward, but I will try to learn from them and not continue repeating them.

Again, I apologize for the way I treated you and hope that someday you'll find it in your heart to forgive me.

Sincerely,

Ian C. Jenkins, DMD

Knowing what it said, I didn't bother reading it. Instead, I looked up at Livia and said, "It's all true, but so is this."

She reached out and patted my hand. "I know, Ian. I sent DeviousMoll a PM and she responded this afternoon when she saw that I was the Liv in your note. She confirmed that the letter was postmarked on Monday, before I broke up with you. She also said it was posted from a Denver zip code, meaning you had to mail it on Sunday before you left. You made a big change in your life to become a better person before I even knew there was a problem. I'm just a paralegal, not a licensed litigator, but I'm still pretty confident that proves you guilty of liking me a whole lot."

My mouth had fallen open somewhere along the way but her closing summary caused me to smile and squeeze her hand in return. My eyes were cloudy with happiness, realizing that she might even be giving me another chance. I nodded, confirming my guilt, on all counts.

She gripped my hand more firmly as she leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Ian, don't you think it's about time you started kissing me?"

Our lips met and it was a kiss for the ages, at least in my mind, as all my fears and regrets of recent days melted away in that tender heat that flowed between us. Her lips, so soft and sweet, explored mine as my lips tried to discover every portion of hers. Our tongues danced together in joy in a waltz that made Alan and Nivia's pale by comparison. Or maybe not, but it sure felt like it to me.

Needing air, we broke, looking into each other's eyes.

"Where's your bedroom, Ian," she panted. "I'd like to see it."

I stood up, closing her laptop cover as I did, and scooped Livia up out of the chair. She gave a little squeal before throwing her arms around my neck and starting to kiss my face, my neck, my earlobe—

A groan emanated from deep within me at that, and Livia giggled, scraping her teeth ever-so-lightly across it before giving me a little nip. I yelped at her playfulness and she returned to kissing my lips for a bit. I responded, of course, but she pulled away a few moments later, and looked ahead over her shoulder.

"We stopped."

"Uh huh. You know how hard it is to kiss and carry your girlfriend up stairs without bumping her head into the wall?"

"So I'm your girlfriend?"

"If you'll have me, yes," I agreed, moving us several more steps while she was occupied.

"Yes, Ian, I'll be your girlfriend. I really want to be, and for you to be my boyfriend, too, okay?"

"Umm, I don't have much experience with the boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but I think you can't have one without the other, right?"

"Ian?"

She wanted certainty, with me saying it, so I did. "Yes, Livia, I'll be honored to be your boyfriend, too."

I reached the top step just in time because she started kissing me again. Keeping my eyes open while still enjoying it, I was able to get us into my bedroom without bumping her head and then we reached the bed, where I gently lowered her down on the duvet.

She looked up at me with bedroom eyes, so beautiful and sultry, before reaching for my belt buckle. Livia had me unbuckled in a moment and my hook and zipper followed a second later. She tugged my pants down and then my underpants where she took my cock and balls in her hands as if they were the world's greatest treasure. Her hands ran over me, massaging as she positioned herself and then took me in her mouth.

"Mmmmm," I grunted. "Soooo good."

She slid around and off the bed to kneel in front of me, licking and kissing my love soldier as if she truly loved it. Then she was bobbing up and down, taking me deep, and I gritted, fighting the urge to let go more quickly than ever.