Learning to Love

Chapter One

JULIAN

I stood there in disbelief, watching the white ball return over the net. My teammates were shouting things at the other team, things I didn't bother paying attention to because something else had my attention or should I say someone?

The game was over but it didn't mind. I didn't look so out of place among my team members who were still glaring over the net at the other team. The fact was I wasn't glaring I was staring, staring at the person who had returned the last shoot. The shoot I made. That was impossible no one ever returned my planned shoots. How did he do that how did he manage? No one had ever done that, ever. But what surprised me more was  I wasn't angry in fact I was far from it. I was intrigued.

"Hey."

I heard a deep but not raspy masculine voice filled with enthusiasm wash over me. I blinked once or twice before coming to the realization that the person in question was speaking to me and had his body pressed flat against the volleyball net. His bare chest was covered in sweat. How did he do it? Yeah, I was still cut up on that but I still can't believe he returned my shot.

"Nice shot," he suddenly said, winking before he smiled and I soon found myself smiling too. What was wrong with me I was supposed to be furious, mad but here I was smiling and rather impressed? Maybe it was his smile. It seemed so infectious.

"Thank you," I barely mouthed. I watched him raise a brow at me. He watching me. I watched sweat run down his chin—his chest. His dark hair looked slick at the roots, probably from sweating. He suddenly grinned, and I felt a funny flip in my stomach.

The spectators were still shouting and I just realized we were the only ones left in the court. Usually, a mini get together came right after a neighborhood match. It had probably started.

"See you then?" he asked, looking towards the crowd. I suddenly felt empty. Why was he going—wait, why did I even care?

He slowly heaved himself off the now bouncing net taking a few steps away before turning and smiling.

I could feel my face heat up from a sudden rush of excitement—anticipation. Why was I behaving like a child? He probably wasn't smiling at me, why am I so confused. I wonder how at twenty-six I couldn't act mature. He wasn't someone I knew. He didn't owe me anything. Then why did I a sudden feeling of losing something overwhelm me when he disappeared into the crowd?

I had somehow managed to squeeze myself into the filled up room that smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. The room was illuminated by glow lanterns hanging from the ceiling, bar chairs and side tables scattered carelessly about the bar. I was sitting on one of those random chairs a glass between my entwined fingers. I watched the wine through the transparent glass questionably. My thoughts were not with the crowd but with him.

I shook my head furiously. Why was I feeling this way? What is he doing to me? I questioned myself setting the glass down on one of the battered side tables around me. The room was stuffy and I was drowsy with wine. Where was Linda? Wasn't she meant to embrace me after the match? Wasn't that what wives did?

I must be really drowsy because I couldn't quite pin down what was happening to me. Why was I feeling this way? Where was he? Why did I even want to see him? Thousands of questions ran through my mind with no given explanations. My mind was becoming a dizzy void.

I felt a spark of electricity run through me feeling a hand on my bare knee. My mouth opened slightly, letting out a silent gasp. Looking up I saw him smiling at me—sitting next to me. Where had he come from? But it didn't matter, did it? I just wanted him to be here—here with me.

"Hello," I heard his voice say. It was so—sensual. It had a hint of foreign accent French? Was it Greek, both maybe?

"You've been drinking haven't you?" he said quietly. I squinted at him admirably. His voice was the only thing I could hear in this pit of noise. I nodded opening my mouth to say something but I only gasped.

"I'll get you some water," he said, removing his hand from my knee. I suddenly felt empty. My eyes began to feel watery. Why was I feeling this way? I didn't even know his name. Heck, I knew nothing about him. I felt tears cloud my vision. Why was I crying? Why was I being a baby? He was going to come back. He said so, didn't he? But somehow this didn't stop my sobbing. What was wrong with me? Why was I acting like this? Tears began to roll freely down my cheeks as I sobbed silently. I think the alcohol was getting to me.

"So, you're one of the emotional ones when not sober, aren't you?" I heard somewhere between the scraping of a chair on the tiles beside me and a thump that meant it was occupied.

I felt unnaturally happy when I felt his hand on my face, his thumb outstretched to wipe my tears. My face heat up from the simple contact. I sighed in protest from the simple lose of it.

"Drink," he said, helping me close my palms over a bottle.

A sudden thought crossed my mind and I blushed. I looked up at his expectant eyes and let my gaze fall to his lips. They were glittery and wet. He must have taken a whiff of the water considering the bottle didn't feel full.

I felt my stomach ache with a sudden feeling... want? Need? I am not so sure. I looked from him to the bottle and back at him again, unconsciously licking my lips. What is wrong with me?

"Drink," he said again, slowly this time. He was giving off a hint of—flirting, I think? Wait, is he flirting with me? Somehow the thought was making my heart ache, and the thought that he was just helping a drunken man made it fall helplessly.

What is he doing to me?

His hands held both of mine over the bottle guiding them to my lips. I took lousy loud gulps. The thought of him drinking from the same bottle suddenly invaded my mind again and I let out a low whimper.

"Take some more," he insisted.

The sudden feeling to taste him got my mind in a haze. I suddenly thrust my tongue into the bottle, trying to taste him—anything left of him. What was he doing to me? Why did it feel so good? I lousily licked the edge of the opening suppressing a moan. I suddenly thrust my tongue violently back into the bottle, repeating the process continuously...Oh my God, I was f*****g a bottle and I surprisingly liked it.

"That's enough." I heard bringing my mind back to reality. I pouted. I didn't want to be in reality. I turned deep red, realizing I was still licking the bottle's mouth with my tongue. I was still blushing as I unplugged my tongue from the bottle, making a light trace of saliva to follow. I'm such a pig.

I felt the bottle gently being taken away from me. Hearing loud gulps I looked up realizing he was drinking from the same bottle. I vividly licked my lips.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I suddenly feeling hot?

I let out a whispered moan when he stopped. He looked at me his eyes were cloudy green slits. His eyes were so beautiful. I don't care if that word was for women, they were beautiful and that was final. They were sea green... gorgeous. His eyes had that lost look. What was he thinking about? Was it me? The thought had me all fuzzy inside.

"What's your name?" he asked, almost panting.

"Julian," I said. It came out more like a whimper. He suddenly smirked.

"Julian..." He said as if tasting it.

"I like it, mine's Zeus," he casually said, placing his hand over my knee. I blushed his hand was so soft so warm.

"Tell me about you," I sort of begged. His eyes suddenly widened. Then a smile broke through his face.

So he talked. He talked about his apartment just a few blocks away. He talked about his Dalmatian that had diabetes. He talked about the kind of movies he watched and the kind of music he listened to. He talked about where he schooled, about how much he loved cooking.

I liked hearing him talk. He could talk forever and I wouldn't get bored. He was so surreal... I wanted to know everything about him am sure everything wanted to know about him too. I don't know it felt like a necessity. I just had to know him.

He suddenly stopped talking. Why did he stop talking? I looked up at him in confusion to find his brows pulled together in a frown. Why was he frowning? I followed his gaze to my right hand that had grazed over his hand on my knee while he talked. Why is he staring at it like that I don't understand? Why did he look hurt... no, offended? I didn't like him looking hurt.

"You're married," he stated. It was not a question just a statement. My eyes suddenly widened in realization he was looking at my ring, my wedding ring. I suddenly wanted to hide it burn it. Why did I want to do that why didn't I want to be seen as married?

"Yes..." I managed, suddenly feeling as if a weight had been dropped on my shoulders. I wanted to burn the ring for doing this, for making him sad—making us sad.

"I see," he said, suddenly looking straight into my eyes

"Oh, there you are Julian," I heard Linda's obnoxious voice say from close by. Why did she have to show up now? Why couldn't she let me be happy?

"I've been looking all over for you!" He screamed wrapping her arms around my neck from behind. Linda suddenly looked down at me and Zeus' hands questionably.

"Hello, you must be his wife," He said wife as if it was a poison and the smile he gave her looked so—so forced.

"Hello," Linda said with equal scorn. She was looking at him—sizing him.

I felt Zeus' hand slip from beneath mine, and before I could process what was happening he was lost in the crowd. My heart began to feel heavy all of a sudden.

"Who was he?" Linda asked curiously. Why did she want to know?

"It doesn't matter." I sort of snapped. Her eyes widened, then her brows creased together in a frown. I didn't care what she was going to say to me later about it. I suddenly felt like crying. What was wrong with me?

Some time passed before a slow song began to play. It spoke of two lovers. The man begging the woman to run away with him. It was confusing, almost depressing.

"This song's for you."

I heard someone whisper behind my ear. Shivering I looked up behind me to find Zeus hovering over my chair. His dark green eyes piercing my blue ones

"Zeus..." I whispered. He was here, he was still here. I couldn't believe the sudden happiness that overwhelmed me.

"Call me?" he asked, running his hand over my neck, his lips brushing my ear.

"Yes..." I half stuttered. How could anyone say no to him? How could anyone resist him?

A folded piece of paper fell on my lap and a quick 'see you later' sent uncontrollable shivers through me.

After starring at the neatly folded piece of paper on my lap I finally unfolded it to find two numbers written neatly in cursive. Even his neat handwriting gave me butterflies.

I had no idea what this man was doing to me, but I liked it. I liked it a lot.