Page 17 of Not My Problem

When she returned to my mouth the kiss turned languid, both of us kissing the other like we had all the time in the world. And maybe we did. She was here for at least two weeks, but that didn’t change my fundamental concerns with doing anything more with this woman.

It was that thought that made me pull back.

“We need to stop now before this goes too far,” I said, my voice shaky.

Zoe looked disappointed but she didn’t argue. She started to move, then stopped again.

“If you want to stop you’ll need to release my boob,” she said drily.

I startled as I realized I was still holding onto her, my fingers curled into her flesh through her bra.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said as she slid off me. “That was super hot.”

I opened my mouth to respond, and she placed one finger over my lips. “Don’t say it was a mistake. Please.”

When I nodded, she lowered her hand and sat back down on the couch. We both faced forward, watching as Harry tried to get Sally back after their disastrous one night stand. We were sitting closer now. Before we’d had an entire cushion between us, but Zoe settled right next to me, pressed against me from shoulder to knee, my skin buzzing everywhere we touched. I didn’t mind.

Neither of us spoke again while we watched the rest of the movie.

“I’m going to go to bed,” she said when the credits started to roll.

“Thanks for the pizza,” I said lamely.

“No problem. Thanks for everything else.”

She grabbed both of our plates and headed into the kitchen. I picked up the pizza box and our empty drink bottles and followed her, my eyes pinned to her ass like some kind of pervert. What was wrong with me? I’d spent years moving away from the me who was impetuous and engaged in risky behaviors. Kissing Zoe was a different kind of risky, but it still was a terrible idea.

But it didn’t feel like it in the heat of the moment.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

I sat in bed for a long time staring at my iPad and pretending to read a book while I obsessed about Zoe like a lovesick teenager. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d obsessed about a girl. Or anyone. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. I’d spent years learning to control my emotions and keeping my life orderly and controlled. Somehow in two days my neighbor’s quirky granddaughter had blown through way too many of my defenses.

Sunday passed quickly and uneventfully. I tried to get all my chores and errands done on Saturdays so I could relax on Sundays. I slept in later than I usually did, shared coffee with my house guest, then puttered around the house.

Zoe spent the morning searching for and applying for jobs. I could see that she was struggling with using the iPad so I set her up on my laptop so she could at least use the regular keyboard.

“Oh! I got an email from my grandmother!”

I looked over from where I was doing a new jigsaw puzzle on the other side of the table. It was a hobby I’d picked up when I used to visit the drop-in centers for homeless youth. A group of us would gather around a table putting the pieces together, something that took our minds off our life on the street and no doubt was intended to teach us patience. This one was difficult, a complicated nature scene with over a thousand pieces.

“That’s great, what does she say?”

She was silent for a minute or two while she processed the email. I waited patiently.

“She says she’s sorry she wasn’t here when I arrived, but she hopes I’ll stay until she gets back. Because she really wants to see me.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” Zoe’s eyes widened. “She also says she’s been spending time with a handsome older Italian gentleman who’s great in the sack – her words not mine.”

Her cheeks turned red like she was embarrassed to even say that out loud.

I laughed. “Yeah, that’s your grandmother. She’s not afraid to embrace joy in life, including her sexuality. We should probably go over to her house today and make sure everything’s okay. I usually pop over every other day just to check on things.”