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I have a LOT to be sorry for, I thought miserably.
“You must hate me,” I whispered.
“I can’t hate you – I could never hate you. I’m in love with you.”
“Stop being nice to me!” I wailed.
He chuckled. “Would it be easier if I was mean?”
“Yes!”
“Okay – grrrrr! You – grrrr!” he teased me, sounding like a cartoon dog.
I laughed through my tears. I couldn’t help it. “That doesn’t sound very mean.”
“I’ll try harder.”
I laughed again, then grew sad. “Why don’t you call me a bitch.”
“Because you’re not one,” he said softly. “You never promised me anything. You don’t owe me anything.”
The sweetness with which he said it made me break down sobbing again.
“Will you do one thing, though?” he asked.
“W-what.”
“Will you let me spend the night with you? Just sleeping here beside you?”
I shook my head. “No… I can’t…”
I knew I would give in again. I knew there was no way I could hold out against his touches, his kisses, his body.
“I promise you I won’t do anything again,” he whispered.
I looked at him reproachfully. “Like you promised before?”
He grinned. “Sorry about that.”
“No you’re not!” I said loudly, but with a certain amount of humor.
“No, I’m not,” he agreed. “But if it’s a choice between trying for sex again and having to leave you, then I swear to God, I won’t do anything. If you change your mind, then you’re going to have to make the first move. But otherwise, I swear on whatever you want me to swear on, I won’t do anything.”
I looked at him for a long time, wanting to trust him.
“…we have to get dressed,” I whispered.
He nodded. “Okay.”
“…all your clothes.”
He looked at me quizzically. “Why?”
“Because you’re too hot.”
He laughed out loud. “Okay, this is the first time ever in my life I wish I were a little uglier.”
I laughed with him. “I don’t.”
“But you have to get dressed, too. I can’t have you lying there naked, or even just in a t-shirt, and not totally want to feel you up.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He sighed. “I can’t believe I even said that… ‘you have to get dressed, or I’ll feel you up’…”
I laughed and wiped away my tears. “You promised.”
He nodded. “And I’ll keep it. Unless you make the first move.”
“I won’t.”
He grinned. “We’ll see.”
I rolled my eyes at his confidence – but when he got up out of bed and I saw his naked body in the candlelight… saw his muscles, and the shadow etching them in relief… saw his gorgeous cock, now limp but still thick…
My mouth watered and my insides churned and I had to turn away.
“You can look now,” he said, and I turned around. He was back in his t-shirt and jeans…
…and he was staring lustfully at my breasts.
I liked it.
I liked him looking at me that way.
I wanted him to break his promise – I wanted him to come over and take me –
But I knew I couldn’t live with that guilt.
“Turn around,” I said.
“Really?” he asked, both exasperated and amused.
“Turn around.”
“You know, a few minutes ago, I was doing a whole lot crazier stuff than just looking – ”
“Turn around.”
He sighed theatrically, then turned around and crossed his arms. “Maaaan, I don’t never get to do nothin’…”
I laughed. “I think you got to do quite a bit.”
“I still want more.”
So do I.
But I didn’t say anything as I found a new – dry – pair of panties, pulled on my jeans, and pulled my shirt back over my head.
“Okay.”
He turned around and smiled at me. “Well… what do you want to do now?”
“Let’s just… go to sleep.”
“It’s pretty early.”
“I just want to lie here with you,” I whispered.
He nodded his head. “Okay.”
68
So now you know I lied – lied to you, lied to Shanna, lied to everyone – about having sex with Derek.
…sort of.
In the days and weeks that followed, I kept telling myself that I wasn’t any worse than Bill Clinton (Mr. ‘I did not have sex with that woman’).
Derek and I didn’t go all the way.
We didn’t even do oral.
It was just touching.
