When Mr. Unicorn asked me to come home with him, I was initially hesitant. Thinking it was way too soon. That this romance had taken on a tornado-like fury and needed to subside to something more manageable. But then - something stood out it my mind. Earlier in the evening, while I'd been busy getting to know "the girlfriends" I'd overheard Mr. Unicorn talking about me to one of his friends.
"She is so fuckin smart!" I heard him say as if with pride. I looked over my shoulder at the pair of them. "She is so fuckin smart," he said again, shaking his head and smiling. I don't know why this seemed so important to me at the time, but those words rang in my ear. She's so fuckin smart. She...is...so...fuckin...smart.
Maybe because "smart" isn't the kind of quality you expect a guy to look for or care about in a hook-up or a fling and therefore it was logical that Mr. U didn't view me that way. Maybe because so many other guys often seem intimidated or disinterested or disapproving of the fact that I'm a lawyer. And the fact that I often display all the other characteristics that often come with that title - opinionated, engaged, passionate, talkative, independent, ambitious, contentious, stubborn, hard-working, busy and sometimes even brash. Or maybe it was because here he was bragging to his friend about me and that's what he chose to say: "She's so fuckin smart." I don't know whether it was the intellectual ego stroke or the intuition that this guy liked me for the right reasons, but I said yes. "Yes, let's go," I said.
We went back to Mr. U's apartment, the site of the infamous New Year's Eve kiss and didn't waste much time. If I were less of a prude (I'm not), I might be inclined to give you more details (I'm not). I can honestly and satisfactorily report back, however, that I stuck to my word, and he stuck to his word. There's was just enough fooling around to confirm our baffling chemistry and not much more. While he wasn't a perfect gentleman, he was, to his credit, reasonably well behaved. So there you have it.
In the morning, I woke up and looked down at the shirt he had given me to wear. "What?" I seemed to shout inside my own thoughts. "What? am I wearing?" I hit him with a pillow. "Does this shirt say 'Booty Squad'" I yelled at him incredulously. "Am I or am I not wearing a shirt that says muther fuckin 'Booty Squad'?" "No," he laughed, and pulled the t-shirt down flat so it became easier to read. It said, "Footy Squad." Something to do with a British soccer or rugby team. "Oh," I said. "Sorry." We laughed. "I guess you're awake," he said. "And I know I'm awake." "Breakfast?" he asked. "Coffee," I groaned.
And then, this man, who couldn't get any more perfect (in my eyes) did the unthinkable. He got up. Got dressed. And went out - in the cold - to get me coffee. And breakfast. (To any guy readers that are hoping this guy stops being so great because he's making you look bad - sorry - but it can't be helped. This is just un-fucking-believable).
He came back with breakfast and coffee and a paper and we sat up in bed and did crosswords, sang along to music playing on his laptop and talked and kissed a little more. It was perfect. It felt so normal to wake up there and just hang out with him. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
At the same time though, it still felt as though the universe had shifted. Things were different. I could tell. To all those people who say that being physical with someone or going home with someone too soon doesn't matter or change anything is wrong. Not because this act or that act was done. Or not. It has nothing to do with any of that. It's just a deeper kind of intimacy. A familiarity. A closeness. What some one's place looks like. What books they read. Wearing their clothes. Knowing what they sleep in. Sleeping next to them. He wasn't my boyfriend. But it felt like that. What people in a relationship would do. Wake up. Drink coffee. Read the paper. And that is what I want. Obviously. I'm not trying to play cool here. Obviously. I clearly think that's where this is leading. But we aren't there yet. And we aren't supposed to be there yet. And why were we rushing it? With the exponential increase in intimacy, we lost some of that electric mystery and newness. I felt less giddy and more comfortable. Less excited and more content.
"What are you thinking about," he asked me. "Oh, just about last night," I answered. "Still not sure whether or not it was a good idea." "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said. "I'm glad you came." "It was nice," I insisted. "It really was. I just hope it was the right thing." He looked at me worried. "It was definitely hot!" I assured him. "It was definitely hot!" he echoed back. "We know we have chemistry," I concluded. "Oh, we have chemistry," he agreed. And then I kissed him.
Later on, Mr. Unicorn walked me to the metro and kissed me goodbye. "When I'm I going to see you again?" he asked me. "Wednesday," I said. "Till Wednesday then," he said. As I made my way down the escalator, I watched Mr. U walking away from me on the sidewalk freshly dusted with snow. I couldn't help but wonder if staying the night had changed the way he saw me, or where we were headed. I could only hope that it hadn't and wait - with bated breath - till Wednesday then.