CHAPTER FOUR — STEPHANIE
I cling to Philip, feeling warm and secure for the first time in a long time. We spent the car ride discussing our favorite philosophers. Mine is David Hume, and his is Kant. Needless to say, we had a spirited debate, which I love.
And what I love even more is that Philip, unlike David, knows how to put a debate to rest, and treat a lady with respect, which is why I'm here with him right now.
"Do you want anything?" he asks, looking at me, smiling.
I nod and feel my smile widen.
There's something about him. He has this boyish cuteness to him, from his blond curls to his blue eyes. But what I love even more is that his innocence is then contrasted with the dark, perverted side of him, which I never would have expected in a million years.
Philip and I had been friends for a few years, and I always would have assumed he was a vanilla lover boy. But nothing could be further from the truth. He's honestly perfect in a lot of ways, except for the fact that he doesn't really date seriously.
That said, he's respectful to me, and communicates where he's at, which I appreciate. It had almost become a foreign concept to me, given how rarely I come across a man with those skills.
I'm thinking about Philip when I hear his voice.
"Wanna go dance?"
A half second later, a high-pitched female voice responds.
"Sure."
I look around, and then I see him: David. What the hell is David doing in a nightclub of all places? I mean, it's not my scene, but it's sure as hell not his scene. Most of the people here are in their 20s. And I mean, David's hot, but he definitely sticks out like a sore thumb.
I look at the woman trailing behind him. She's pretty, older than me but younger than him, with dark brown hair, pale skin, and a slim figure. She's wearing a pretty royal blue dress that's a bit longer than mine, but still short, and heels.
I feel a flare of something hot in my stomach. I stare at them as he leads her to the dance floor. He looks at her for a second like a lost boy, and I almost feel sorry for him. But then she wraps her hands around his neck and pulls him close, and the burning ball in my stomach gets hotter.
Fuck her. I'm taken aback by the thought. I quickly erase it from my mind. She hasn't done anything wrong. I know that. So why do I feel like stabbing her in the eye with a pitchfork?
I look at her delicate fingers wrapped around his neck. My stomach flips. I look down. My fists are clenched.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Philip bumps up against me. I look down and he's holding a clear glass with what I presume is vodka mixed with soda, as requested. I grab the glass and quickly squeeze the lime from the rim into it.
"Yeah," I say, trying to force a smile.
"Stephanie," he says. "You're obviously not. What's going on?"
"Look," I say, tilting my head towards the dance floor.
Philip follows my eyes.
"Is that—"
"Yep."
Philip stares at them for a few seconds. I watch as his eyebrows knit in confusion.
"What is he doing here?" Philip asks.
"That's exactly what I've been wondering," I say, taking a large gulp of my drink.
I watch her hands drop to his waist as his rest on her hips.
Their torsos are touching, and then they're grinding like teenagers.
"Fuck."
I huff and blow a piece of hair out of my eyes.
Philip laughs.
"You're jealous, aren't you?"
"Maybe," I say.
"Stephanie, you look like you're about to blow a fuse. It's okay to admit it."
I exhale.
"Yeah, you're right."
"Want to make him jealous back?" Philip asks, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
I smile.
This is one of the things I love about Philip. Any other man in his position would probably be angry or annoyed or jealous of the way I'm reacting. But not Philip. I guess his casual dating thing has some perks.
He's also into this radical honesty thing, which, to be honest, I've been very skeptical about and still remain skeptical about. I just don't think most people deal with honesty well.
But Philip, unlike the other men I've dated, actually is able to handle the truth.
He asks questions he's prepared to hear the answers to, and so I've increasingly felt safe opening up and telling him more and more, like about David.
He knows everything now, and he finds it all a bit bemusing.
It's so refreshing to be able to share openly with a man like this.
I'll admit, though, there are times when I wish Philip was a bit more possessive. And then I feel guilty for thinking that, because it's like I want to have my cake and eat it too.
On one hand, it annoys me when David tries to control my behavior. I want the freedom to do what I want. But then I also want the men I'm interested in to be jealous of me without restricting my freedom. I know, it's a contradiction.
"Come on," Philip says, grabbing my hand. "Let's go."
I instantly feel relaxed. At least with Philip, I know I'll always have a good time. That much is guaranteed.