“No, I’m your friend. And she works with you – with us.”
“You know what? You’re right. With her, I promise to be careful. Honestly, I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thanks.”
“Oh, and one more thing – don’t forget, the apartment’s yours tonight. I’m not coming back.”Not even a minute passed after hanging up with David, and the phone rang again.
“How long were you going to stay on the phone?” came Lily’s extraordinary voice through the receiver.
“That was David – my friend from the ward. He’s the one who drew your blood a couple of weeks ago,” I said casually, trying to mask my excitement.
“You two are friends outside the hospital too?” she asked.
“Yes, close friends. We even live together. Some people think we’re a couple.”
“Seriously?” She sounded amused. But it wasn’t a joke. Even Shira, when she first met us, assumed we were together. We were always side by side – sharing an apartment, going out with or without girlfriends, traveling abroad together, even asking to be on call on the same shifts. On the rare occasion one of us showed up alone, the inevitable question was, “And where’s the other one?”
“Want to meet?” she finally asked – the question I’d been waiting for all day, maybe all my life.
“You already know my answer.”
“At your place, in half an hour. I’m at my apartment in Ramat Aviv, but it’s a mess – Ralf just took his stuff.”
“Are you sure it’s okay? I mean – do you really want to?” I tried to be sensitive, but my pulse was racing.
“I need to see you.” I hung up the phone, closed my eyes, and prayed the candlesticks would unite.
I rushed around the apartment. Dirty dishes, books, things outof place – I scooped everything up and dumped it in the sink. Shook out the blanket in my bedroom – who knew, maybe we’d need it. It had happened before. I dusted the chairs and the coffee table. Put on a record by The Platters and waited. Every ten seconds, I checked the clock. After twenty-two minutes, the doorbell rang. Unlike my usual habit of shouting, “It’s open!”
I got up and walked to the door. But Lily didn’t wait for me – she opened it herself.I didn’t recognize her at first. In the past twenty-four hours, she’d found time to stop at the salon, and now her hair was wild, gorgeous. When I told her so, she walked toward me. The scent she carried nearly made me lose control. I leaned in and kissed her cheek. To my surprise, she lifted her arms, wrapped them around my neck. That reaction I hadn’t expected – but I had hoped for. She made no move to let go. A volcano erupted inside me.
Yesterday, she’d barely kissed my cheek. Now, in this storm of passion, she was matching my every movement, and I was matching hers. Lips and tongues explored, touching, teasing – her left eye, then her right, the tip of her nose, her forehead, her neck.
When I asked her to slow down, to be more deliberate, more measured, she refused. We kept kissing endlessly, as though we’d been waiting for this all our lives.
The sound of “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” by The Platters filled the room, and we moved to its rhythm. The scratch of the needle broke through the haze we were floating in, but until then, we’d been sailing in a perfect world. Lily pulled back slightly, asked to flip the record. Between songs, we stayed wrapped in each other, until The Platters came back on, and we picked up right where we’d left off.We kissed and caressed as if we’d both been starving, and the harmony between us was flawless. The exhilaration I’d started to feel barely an hour before now soared to heights I’d never known.
“I feel like something’s happening to me,” I whispered in her ear.
“What?”
“That I really love you,” I said honestly.
“You don’t even know me,” Lily challenged.
“Maybe that’s the reason.” Our eyes locked, and I felt we were melting into one body.
“Come to bed,” she whispered in my ear, “it’ll be so much more comfortable.”
“Comfortable for what?” I teased.
“To listen to … Neil Sedaka,” she shot back playfully.
The energy surging in me from her touch was beyond anything I’d ever felt. But it was nothing compared to what I felt once I was inside her.
Chapter 8
Emotional Whirlpool
At a quarter to six, my internal alarm clock woke me. A few seconds of hazy wondering passed before I realized I had fallen asleep in Lily’s arms. The room was pitch-dark. When I tried to return my hand to its rightful place, she stirred, kissed my cheek, rose slowly, and disappeared. In the minutes until she came back, I found myself touching parts of my own body in disbelief.
