What did I do wrong?
It had to have been something. He leans away from me, and I remove my hands as quickly as I can manage, scooting to the other side of the couch.
“Sorry, sorry. I just…” I pant out the words, circling around just how pathetic I feel.
I justwhat?Can’t stop thinking about him? Really like him? There’s nothing I can say that won’t scare him off—I misread this.
I must have misread this.
“Don’t apologize,” he says. Instead of moving away, or toward the door like I feared, he grasps my surrendered hands in his own, cupping them until they land on my lap. I don’t understand.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly.
He’s sorry?
“Oh…” I say, suddenly aware of how each piece of clothing on my body is askew. Gil got caught up in the moment. He never wanted to—he never wantedme. It’s been a day of fun with a girl he met on vacation. I should have never assumed anything else.
“Marina.” His voice is a gentle whisper.
I can’t do this—another rejection, another wrong signal.
Before I can stop myself, my nails dig into the uneven patch on my neck. What does grossing him out now matter if he’s about to leave?
“If it was too much,” he says, his voice deep and gentle, as his hand grazes my shoulder, “I’m sorry.”
If … it was too much?
“What?” I choke out, sure that I must have heard him wrong, considering I think I’m the one who jumped him.
“If I…” He closes his eyes, shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you again all day, and I didn’t mean for things to get so—”
“Wait, wait,” I cut him off. “You thinkyougot carried away?”
“I didn’t?” His voice squeaks in a way that’s endearingly boyish. It’s an adorable departure from his normal charm. Could he be as nervous as I am?
“No, no, not at all. Wait, so, you’re not… you don’t want to leave?” I ask. When he pulled his body off of mine, that’s fully where I expected this night to head: him out the door and me asleep alone. But Gil simply shakes his head. His hand grips mine with a soft squeeze, which I’m too stunned to return.
I didn’t mess things up?
“I’m a little new to all of this.” He swallows hard, shaking his head. “And truthfully, there are some things I want to tell you—need to tell you—first.”
“Oh…” I nod, brow furrowed. No one who has been romantically interested in me ever wants to just … hang out, but Gil does seem sincere, even though it’d be easy to jump to a conclusion here.
He doesn’t have a car.
I haven’t gotten any real details on where he lives.
And now there’s a secret?
I think he could tell me he’s an axe murderer and I’d probably still ask him to stay. If I could afford therapy, I think that fact alone would make any medical professional take me off their books, but here we are…
“Whatever it is can’t be that bad,” I say, forcing myself to keep the distance he created between us.
“It’s not bad,” he says, with a half-smile. “Just … different.”
I smirk. I think I can handle different. What I can’t handle—after the kisses and the touching—is being alone.
I’m no stranger to one-night stands, sweet words, and promises that vanish in the night, leaving me with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I don’t need him next to me if he’s not ready for that, but If I’m allowed to be selfish, I don’t want to say goodnight.
