What can I give to a woman who has everything to convince her to stay? Not just for the weekend. I want her forever, as long as she'll have me. Why would she want me? I'm not even as attractive as her exes are. Not even remotely as famous and rich. I have nothing to offer to her. God, this is frustrating. I have been torturing myself with these self deprecating thoughts for days now. Trying to figure what Cara wants from me. What I should do when she finally here in New York. And I not even close to an answer. This is not making any sense at all. Trying to win a girl who is way out of my league, out of my world. I close my eyes and trying to recall my last encounter with Cara. Her mischievous smile, hinting a bit of sadness inside. The melodious laugh of hers. The warmth from her body, reaching to my heart. I have to have her. At least, I have to try.
I only have four days to plan the magnificent ways to sweep her off her feet. Four days aren't long enough to do this. I have wasted too much time thinking. Maybe that's the problem. I think too much. She doesn't need a fancy dinner at five star restaurant. Or slow dancing under the stars. Sure, that's crazy romantic. But that's not real. She's an actress, doing just like that would make her feel like she's in one of the movies she did. Maybe she needs something real. Like me. A plan is rapidly forming inside of my brain. It's so reckless and illogical. Perhaps a lot like love itself. With a couple clicks and hurried phone calls, I set my plan into motion. Too late to back out now.
Hours later, a surprised face welcomes me. She is as beautiful as I remembered. More beautiful if it's possible. She does what she always does to me, leaving me breathless. But it's not the time to be stupidly out of words. I have a lot of explaining to do. Now or never.
"Hey, Cara," I smile sheepishly at the shocked girl in front of me. "I know that you're not expecting me, here in London. Not when you're supposed to fly to New York three days from now."
"Why," she stammers, trying to gain some sense from my impulsive action. She stops mid sentence when I lift a finger to her lips. Asking for time to explain without any interruptions.
"You asked me to convince you to stay longer. Maybe what you had in mind was longer than just a weekend. But what I want is even longer than that." I drop my finger from her lips and graze her cheek with my thumb, softly, adoringly.
"It's too fast. I know. But I can't wait. You might be gone then. So here I am, in London, doing exactly what you asked weeks ago when you promised me a private show. But, that's not what I want." I pause. Well, not really. I want that too. "Okay, I want that. Extremely excited for it. But that's not the main point. Let's get back to that later."
She chuckles at my rambling. I'm a little bit distracted by my dirty imagination. "Okay, Jess."
"Right. I have been thinking of what I could, what I should offer to you. You have everything in your hands. I can only offer less than that, materially speaking. So I want to offer you the most precious thing a person could offer."
Her eyes are curious, waiting for me to continue. I hold her gaze, already lost in her piercing eyes. I have no choice but to offer her everything I have, since I am already fell to deep in love with her. Irretrievably in love since the day I met her.
"I promise to give you my time, and most important of all, my heart. I promise that you'll always come first. Not my works. Not anything else. Just you. Just us." A smile is slowly forming on her alluring lips. Thank God, it's a good sign.
"I promise that I won't be perfect, I'll never will. But I'll fall for you over and over again. Because I did. I do. Tried to talk myself out of loving you but apparently it's so damn impossible for me."
"You finish yet?" She touches my arm softly with her delicate fingers. It feels so damn good.
"Almost. So, if you want to, I want to try to make this work. Make this something real, not just something that exists inside of my imagination."
"Finish now?" I nod. "Good. Now it's my turn."
