“Whatare you doing?” she asked, excitement in her voice and laughter in her eyes.
“Dancing,”I replied, grasping her hand and releasing her waist, twirling her around, thenpulling her back. The fingers of her other hand landed against my chest, andfuck, I liked the feel of them there. No, scratch that—Ilovedit. Ilovedthis; this night, this song, this feeling I had when I was withher.
Shegiggled. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a dancer.”
Ipulled her body closer to mine and felt her rigid nerves dissipate and relax.“Well, believe it or not, I kinda am. I took lessons when I was a kid.”
“Ballroomdancing?”
Ilaughed. “Nah, hip hop.”
Hersmiling eyes reflected the street lights like stars and I had to talk myselfout of making a wish upon them.
“O-kay,”she drawled playfully. “Then, how did you learn to dance like this?”
Myshoulders shrugged before dipping her low and whispering into her ear, “Youalready know my worst secret. Let me hold onto a little mystery for a while.”
Andythrew her arms around my neck and squealed loudly, drowning out the music from aboveand the distant sound of a street sweeper. I pulled her upright and held herclose, closer than before, and pressed my nose to the top of her head. I closedmy eyes and pulled in her scent, a beachy, floral blend that reminded me of theflowers in Zach’s garden upstate, and I felt so overcome by good, happyemotions, that I fucking sighed and kissed her hair. No second thought, noquestions of if I should go for it or not. I just pursed my lips and went forit. After, I waited for her reaction and wondered if it was weird. Do womenlike that kind of thing, or is it creepy? And how was I supposed to know, whenthe brunt of my physical interaction with women was restricted to one-nightstands in bar bathrooms?
Shewas quiet, and just when I thought we would both silently agree to let it passwithout mention, she asked, “Did you just kiss my head?”
Iswallowed, embarrassed, and said, “Yeah. I kinda did.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
Whatthe hell did that even mean?
Oh.
Christ,she was so different from other women I’d been interested in. Sometimes, whenshe was cool and laid back, eating wings and sipping Coke, that was a greatthing. Other times, like now, when she was so shy and awkward, it was morefrustrating than dealing with my father.
Asthe singer went on about being saved and just wanting to repay the woman hesang about, I looked to the streetlamps for some kind of answer. What was Idoing here? Why had I even asked her out? I liked her, yeah, but that one,stupid little word now made me wonder if I was fooling myself into thinking Icould have anything more than dirty sex in dirty bathrooms.
Oh.
“God,you think too loud,” she groaned, her cheek pressed to my shoulder.
“Huh?”
“Isaid,” she pulled her head back and looked up into my eyes, “you think tooloud.”
“Well,then why don’t you shut me up?” I fired back coolly, lifting a brow andsmirking, assuming she’d be way too chicken-shit to actually do anything.
Iwas wrong.
Herhands moved so quickly from my neck to the sides of my face, I didn’t have timeto think or react, as she pulled me down to her level and pressed her soft lipsagainst mine, surprised and partially open. I didn’t even have the time toclose my eyes, even though she had, and two seconds later, when she pulledaway, I continued to stare at her, eyes wide and jaw open in a silent gasp.
Ialways kissed women first, they never kissed me.
“Howwas that?” she asked, her bold act contrasted by the bashfulness of her voice.
“Lame,”I countered, with my heart jittering in my chest and my hands trembling at herwaist.
“Andyou could do better?”
“Icould,” I retorted confidently.
