Page 21 of Tap Left
"Yes."
He guides me outside with his hand on my lower back. Something Daire has never, ever done. Reason would dictate that it’s because he knows I’m a little tipsy. But when we get in the car, he feels closer than usual. His arm is against mine, and he’s warm. He smells even better than I thought he did the other day and I’m having thoughts that I have no right to think.
This is the part where he drops me off at home, and I’m struck by the realization that isn’t what I want. The driver asks for instructions, and Daire tells him to take us to his building. I don't ask why, and I don’t care either. The thing about Daire is that we might not get along but if there’s one thing I know for certain it’s that I can trust him. It’s a complete contradiction to everything that I should feel about him, but I know that whenever I’m with him, I’m safe.
The doorman greets us with a polite nod and calls for an elevator. When it arrives, Daire ushers me inside and enters a code before pressing the button. The ride takes us all the way to the top of the building, Daire’s kingdom in the sky. It isn’t a place that I’m familiar with. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never been to his apartment. And just when I think I’m finally about to, he changes the game again.
The doors open into a dark foyer. What little I can see of it is bathed in the moonlight shining through the windows. Hardwood floors. Minimal furniture. It’s cavernous and quiet. When he takes me by the arm and leads me to a stairwell near the entry, our footsteps echo throughout the space.
"What are we doing?"
"You'll see.” Daire takes his time ascending the stairs. It looks like he’s being careful and deliberate, but I know the real reason is that it’s painful. His grip on the cane turns his knuckles white, but his face doesn’t falter or give him away.
At the top, there’s a set of French doors which he opens with another code. The breeze is the first thing to hit me, followed by the scent of Jasmine and saltwater. My eyes struggle to comprehend what I’m seeing. There are flowers and trees and ivy and crisp blue water. I’ve entered an urban oasis I didn’t even know existed, and it really does feel like Narnia.
"You have a pool?"
Daire nods like it’s not a big deal that he has his own slice of paradise on top of the city. It’s incredible. The stars and the air and moon and the plants. There are even solar lights strategically placed throughout the space to illuminate the walkways.
“And of course, there’s a fountain.” I walk to the edge and bend down to drag my fingers through the water. It's warm. Clean and fresh and inviting. And I want in. But I don't have the suit for it.
"How about it?" Daire asks. He’s still standing in the shadow where he can’t give anything away. I can’t see his eyes, and I need to see his eyes.
"A swim?" I ask. "I don't have a suit."
"Neither do I. That never stopped us before." He's right. It didn't. But this feels different. Like we’re venturing into dangerous territory. Like if I go down this path, I might not ever be able to come back. My inhibitions are practically nonexistent, and right now, so are my walls. It would be easy to blame it on the alcohol, but that isn’t my excuse. My last drink was over an hour ago, and that isn’t why my head feels so fuzzy.
Daire seemsto sense my reluctance. My confusion. And also, my desire to say yes. "You said you loved to swim beneath the stars.”
"When did I say that?”
“A long time ago.”
That’s a generalization if I ever heard one, but I don’t need to hear him say it. I remember everything, and I know he does too. The last time we did this, Ryan was here. There was a party at the beach that night that I really didn’t feel like going to. But Ryan had shown up at my house, already drunk, insisting I tag along. I agreed, hoping that things would be different that time. But I should have known better.
He argued with Daire as soon as we got to the car. Daire refused to hand over the keys, and Ryan almost punched him then and there. He was like that when he drank. He got angry easily, and especially when it came to Daire. I never really understood their relationship. They were half-brothers, but they’d never lived together. Daire was the product of one of his father’s affairs, and even though I knew Ryan cared about him, I always thought he resented him too. They were from two different worlds. Ryan had been given everything in life, and Daire had been given nothing. It made me feel guilty that Daire was the one I could relate to. And it made me feel even worse that sometimes I caught myself staring at him too long. Which is exactly what happened that night.
After their fight, Ryan ditched us as soon as we got to the party. He told me to stay with Daire while he disappeared into the crowd. To say that it was awkward was an understatement. Daire didn’t talk to me if he could help it, and I always got so nervous around him that I couldn’t seem to shut up. I’d mentioned that I loved to swim at night during that conversation. And if you’d asked me then, I wouldn’t have believed that he’d even heard it. But Daire wore his cloak of indifference well. He wore it so well that he didn’t even blink when he saw Ryan kissing another girl.
I didn’t blink either. The night went on, and I learned how to be a good actress while I drank way too much stale beer. The funny thing is that I can’t remember what happened with Ryan that night. I only remember Daire. He was the one to take me home and deposit me into my bed like it was his job to take care of me. And when he thought I was asleep, he’d whispered something before he closed the door.
He’d told me that I deserved better. And then he told me that he was sorry.
When I look at him now, my heart beats faster than it should. He’s changed so much. But there are still parts of him that remain the same. He’s steadfast. Quiet. Strong. The only real constant I’ve had in my life that I can speak of. And I wonder if he knows that.
“Daire—” my voice cracks.
“Yes?”
I turn around and kick off my shoes while he watches. This is really happening. I don't know what's real and what's fake anymore. I don't know where the line is. "I need some help," I tell him. "With my dress."
He walks around behind me, and I shiver when his fingers graze the back of my neck before finding the zipper. He pulls it down with a strong and capable hand. The sky tilts, and I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster.
His breath blows against me when he speaks. "Lola?"
"Hmm?" I whisper.
"I can't wait to get you wet."
