The remainder of the night was awkward; we ended up separating ourselves from each other slowly without even realizing we were doing so. Well, at least I didn't.
Paul eventually went upstairs to do something. I stayed in the living room--finding a pen and paper to write a few new songs, jumping at the crackles of thunder and listening to the still steady rain while I was at it. I bet he was losing even more interest in me for making myself so isolated in his own damn house.
Things were much more natural for me around George; I didn't feel hesitant about being myself. I felt like I didn't have to be the girl who was ashamed to gush about the things she loved. I felt like we didn't run out of things to talk about so easily.
At around midnight, I heard footsteps from the stairs over the rain that hit the window. The storm was only becoming worse, with the wind picking up and the roads slowly flooding. I was surprised that Paul's power hadn't gone out yet.
"Bri, I'm going to bed soon, love. I suggest you do, too," a voiced called. I turned around, and Paul was standing on the bottom step; already in his pajamas.
"Okay..." I replied, gulping. "But I don't have anything to sleep in." I looked around me, not noticing anything remotely comfortable to sleep on, either. I wished I could have been able to prepare beforehand for this. "And I have nowhere to sleep..."
"Oh," Paul muttered. He sighed and pushed his hair back with one hand; probably regretting inviting me over in the first place. "Well um, I'll find ye something of mine you can sleep in. Come on upstairs."
I got up, placing the pen and paper on the chair. Paul headed back up the steps, and I followed.
When we got to his room, he started going through his dresser. A few T-shirts flew across the room onto his bed, followed by a pair of sweatpants.
"Alright, go try those on. Not like they'll fit, anyway," Paul said, both of us laughing. Our height difference was very noticeable from where we were standing. He glanced in my direction, looking me up and down. "Gosh, ya really are small. Damn."
I giggled and grabbed the clothes he laid out for me. "Shut up, Paul!"
"It's alright, that just makes you even more adorable," he replied, coming up from behind me and hugging me. We bursted into a bunch of laughter, and the faint smell of his great smelling cologne made my nose tingle.
After we calmed down a bit, I asked, "So where can I change at?"
Paul loosened his grip on me and pointed over my head. "Uh, the bathroom is right over there."
I looked behind me, noticing the doorway in the corner. "Okay, I'll be out in a sec." As I headed towards the bathroom, I stopped and remembered how difficult it was for me to button my top up that afternoon. It was cute, but hard to get on. George was busy and I didn't want to disturb him, so I ended up spending a half hour bending my wrists and almost breaking my back.
"Um, Paul?"
"Yes, Bri?"
"Can you...unbutton for me?" I turned back around and asked quietly, suddenly feeling shy again.
"Of course, love, come on over." Paul stood by the edge of his bed, beckoning me. I approached him slowly and spun around once I was close enough. A couple seconds passed before I felt the cold skin of his knuckles gently brushing against my back; sending a couple of shivers down my spine. Unhooking each little green plastic button, his soft breaths lightly met my skin. He unbuttoned the final one; exposing my entire bare back to his eyes.
I heard Paul gasp a little. "That's all you're wearing? No bra or nothin'?"
"I mean, I was...kind of hot today," I told him, feeling embarrassed that he had said something about it.
"Hmm," Paul grunted. "Same here. But for a different reason than the weather, if you know what I mean."
I felt naked. The blouse was made of a light, thin fabric, and it was only covering my shoulders and chest at this point. I looked back at Paul, and he was already staring at me--a lustful look on his face with his lips slightly parted. I blushed as Paul's hands slowly slipped from his light grip on the bottom seam of the blouse down to being wrapped around my waist.
"Mm, you gorgeous girl," Paul came closer and whispered into my ear, kissing my cheek afterward. I smiled and giggled a little, flattered by his comment. Pressing our bodies against each other, he made sure there was no space between my back and his chest.
He began massaging my torso, slowly moving the palms of his rough hands further up my body. His hands kept on moving; and before I knew it, his fingers were lingering just beneath my breasts, eager to travel north and caress them. Once his lips grazed my cheek again and his fingers worked their way on top of them, I knew it was time for him to stop there.
It felt good. I wanted to let him go on, I really did. But I knew how much I'd regret it a week later when he'd start to ignore me and touch another girl the same way he touched me.
"O-okay. That's enough, thank you," I said quickly, gently grabbing Paul's hands from beneath my shirt. He limply let his arms fall into his lap and raised his eyebrows, almost looking as if he were pouting. I picked up the sweatpants and T-shirt again, holding them close to my chest.
"Bri, love," Paul murmured. "You can tell me how you feel, y'know. I'm sorry. It's okay if ye aren't ready..."
"No, it's fine. Just...not now," I replied, giving a fake, airy laugh. "Nothing personal." I rushed into the bathroom across the room and locked the door shut.
Although it was a little bit personal.
I stripped off the rest of my clothing and placed it on the towel rack, suddenly feeling a little strange that I'd let Paul's hands roam my body like that. The last few minutes kept replaying in my mind. Everyone thought of me as the "innocent prude girl", but that image had begun to slowly shatter to pieces a while ago and they didn't even know it.
Washing up and scrubbing off my makeup, I was actually determined to look ugly. I shook my smooth, well-groomed hair into a messy bun and threw on Paul's clothes--trying my best to erase all evidence of my femininity. The things were entirely too big for me, making me look like a sack of potatoes. I pulled the drawstring on the pants as tight as I could and rolled up each pant leg so they wouldn't fall.
I picked up my own clothes and opened the door, feeling confident that Paul wouldn't try to put moves on me now.
Paul was closing his drawers when he turned around and looked at me. "Wow, those are quite big on you."
"Um, yeah," I replied quickly. "So you don't have an extra bed, air mattress, nothing?"
He shrugged and shook his head. "Well, no."
I laughed. "Not even a fucking sofa?" I asked, half jokingly and half angrily. It was becoming clear to me what his intentions were.
"Yeah, I know I know," Paul said back, rolling his eyes. "I'm working on it, okay?"
"So all this time you were only planning on having me sleep with you, huh?" I asked, crossing my arms. "You just used the weather as an excuse to keep me here."
It was obvious that was all he wanted me for: sex. I knew he didn't really want to get to know me. I knew he was never going to care about my favorite music, my goals in life, or simply my feelings. Just as I had thought. What could I expect from someone as soon to be famous and physically attractive as he was?
However, I still had a photography exam to pass. I had to stay on good terms with Paul, or else he wouldn't want to help me.
Paul sat down on his bed and covered his eyes with his hand. "Bri, it's not like that at all. I'm sorry about what happened, my thoughts just got the best of me and... I promise I won't try to do anything with you while you sleep, okay?"
It was either his bed or the floor. I pretended to think about it for a moment, then groaned, "Fine..."
Paul nodded, then got up to unravel his covers. I just stood there and watched him bury himself beneath his sheets.
"You comin?" he asked, watching me.
I sighed, walking over to the other side of the bed. I didn't lay down just yet; I sat down on the edge and looked out the large window. The wind was carrying on now, and it began to make eerie sounds. The noise of strong winds always made me uneasy, especially since there were a lot of trees around my house. I didn't know if there was a tree from where I was looking, making me more anxious.
"Scared of a little wind, Bri?" Paul questioned me, noticing my gazing.
"No..." I lied. "I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"Well..." I began, considering suggesting something to make my trip to Strawberry Field less tedious and awkward. I turned around to face Paul. "I was thinking we could bring along John, Ringo, and George with us for my project."
Paul shook his head. "No, no. The press will probably find us along the way. Ye don't need to get involved in that."
"Oh..." I replied. "Maybe just George, then? That is, if he doesn't have any plans, with like Audrey or someone."
"Audrey?" Paul asked, making a face.
"She's this girl he likes," I informed him, surprised he didn't know about her. "George hasn't told you?"
"No...I mean, oh yeah, Audrey!" he replied, nodding. "Audrey..."
"Flowers."
For some reason, Paul snickered at that. "Yeah, Audrey Flowers."
"She must be beautiful," I said softly, thinking about how George described her.
"I mean, I guess she's cute," Paul said, shrugging.
"So, can we invite him?" I asked again, almost sounding like a child begging their mother for a new toy.
"Alright, if that's what ye want," he replied, sighing. He laid his pillow flat on the surface and pulled his blanket up to cover his shoulders. "I'm going to turn the lights out now, I'm tired."
"Okay..." I muttered, slowly laying myself down on the bed with him.
"Goodnight, Bri," Paul said as he reached for the lamp beside him. "I enjoyed our time together, even though I know you didn't."
"Yeah," I replied, my voice barely audible to even myself. "Goodnight."
The room soon went dark. I lay on my back, my eyes still wide open. After a few moments, I decided to get under the covers; the blowing wind making my heart beat faster.
The linens were mostly on Paul's side, and I could barely cover myself with them. I tugged on them a little, accidentally pulling the entire thing.
"Bri..." Paul groaned, reaching his arm out.
Before he could catch them, I used the sheets to wrap myself into a little cocoon. Partially because I was a little cold, partially because I wanted to feel safe--from both him and the storm.
"Bri, there's no need for that. I promised I wasn't going to touch you," Paul said into his pillow. After a few minutes, he realized I wasn't going to give the sheet back. So he got up and found another thin blanket for himself in his closet.
As Paul dozed off, I stayed awake, shaking at the wind. I flipped over to my side, watching him sleep like a baby.
Honestly, I wanted him to hold me. I wanted him to cuddle with me, I wanted to rest my ear against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. I wanted his deep, yet calming voice to tell me that everything was going to be alright.
I couldn't, though. I couldn't get my heart handcuffed to a man who only wanted me for my body. I would have to learn how to convince myself that things would be okay, and learn how to be content without someone else laying beside me; because I knew many more of those nights were sure to come.