The Next Installment.

This is the inspiration for Zoe, the beautiful Zoe Saldana. I know I wasn't creative with the name, ohwell.

I hated the last part of the story, with a passion. It was rushed, weak, w/e ... and I vow to never write again in 10 minutes just to throw it up. Hopefully I can have some quality, over quantity. Comments are appreciated too ... it's nice to know people are reading and enjoying your stuff. Sort of like, steam to keep writing.

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Eventually Zoey and I began getting closer and closer and another month had passed by with no word from Erin, and I had barely noticed. It was not as if I WANTED to not think about her; it was simply that I couldn’t. Without any formal agreement, Zoey and I had moved from friends, to friends with benefits, to dating, whilst keeping the same relationship. It was wonderful.

One afternoon, the issue of Erin popped up while Zoey and I lay in bed watching King of Queens. I was more interested in Kevin James than this change in conversation but like most women, Zoey was persistent.

"Do you remember when I asked you awhile ago if you loved that one girl, Erin?" she asked as she rubbed her hand on my chest.

My eyes never diverted from the television as I said, "nah, not really."

"Well I do. I was just wondering what would happen if she came back, if you would choose her over me."

I laughed, more from Doug trying to stuff five hot dogs in his mouth, but a little at the forwardness of the question. Apparently, that was the wrong response and my first mistake of the night.

"Eric I'm serious! This has been wonderful, I've never felt happier. We just don't have a title and it feels like we should probably have one."

That was enough to make me turn off the TV. "You said you didn't want titles. That they'd complicate things, and I agreed." I looked her in her eyes and told her, "You're stressing on things that don't even matter."

That would be mistake #2.

"Don't downplay my feelings like that. I'm serious. You know what, just forget it. I should have known better than to bring this up during King of Queens.” She laughed, which was enough for a sigh of relief from me. “We’ll just talk later on, alright? I’m going to go hop in the shower and get ready.”

As soon as I heard the water of the shower running, I reached for my phone. Without even thinking, I had scrolled down to a picture of Erin and was ready to press the little green phone icon. Deciding that I was in no mood to talk, I figured I could just send her a text and see what would happen if I she did indeed come back. There was a little voice in my head telling me nothing good could come from this, that I should leave well enough alone … but when do we ever listen to those voices?

I wrote about five messages, deleting them every time since they were not satisfactory for what I was trying to accomplish. What WAS I trying to accomplish? Did I not have a good “relationship” right now? Wouldn’t this have the probability to complicate and ruin things? Did I dare risk that?

Moreover, in that fleeting second when I considered all of those things, plus more, a memory flashed through my mind. Erin and I had taken a trip to her best friend’s house in Connecticut, and were just relaxing on a hammock. She had fallen asleep with her hand on my chest and her head in my neck, and it seemed unreal. It was almost perfect. No matter what had been going on in the world at the time, we were oblivious to it. Our bodies were seamlessly connected, and without trying our inhale, exhales were the same. It truly felt meant to be.

“hey … how’ve you been? I kind of was thinking about you and w/e.”

Just when I thought that she would not text back and was ready to go downstairs and start on some Tilapia my phone buzzed, then beeped. After picking it up and going through the usual taps to get to the message I had just received I read:

“who is this?”

My heart nearly sank. Did I really expect her to want to talk to me after what I had put her through? I could hear Zoey getting ready to come out of the bathroom so I had to decide whether I was going to text Erin back.

Just before I saw the door to the bathroom open, I replied with a quick, “Eric. =/” and threw my phone on the bed.

I met Zoey at the door with a kiss. She was wrapped in a towel (I never understood how they did that) and her hair was wet and curly. She was simply stunning. While our lips were interlocked, she ran her hand through my mohawk and from that point it was over.

I raised my hands as she lifted my tee over my head. She tossed it to her left and just stared at me. There wasn’t a smirk in the world as seductive as hers, this I was sure.

Wrapping her up in my arms, I carefully unraveled her towel, letting it drop to the floor. The feeling of her body pressed against mine was starting to make my blood flow faster, and I was now ready to erase the effects of her shower. My lips found their way onto her neck as I turned her around and positioned her gently on the bed.

Bzz, bzz. Beep!

I ignored the sound, but for some reason Zoey didn’t. She lifted her head, and used her right arm to extract my phone from where it rested. While I figured she would toss it to the other side of the bed and let me continue to do my best Usher rendition from the Trading Places video, she peeked at the screen.

“Stop.”

“Huh,” I panted as I rose up.

“What is THIS?” she asked as she put the phone closer to my face where I could see.

“omg, eric I was just thinking about you …”

My face slumped as I exhaled …