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I shifted as pure lust began to take over my thoughts. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, I wasn’t satisfied with just keeping my dirty thoughts to myself. No, I’d gone and kissed him, too, like a silly little girl.
Jesus, how humiliating. What is wrong with you, Tillie?
I didn’t know, but once my common sense came back, I was beside myself. I needed to explain to him that I wasn’t some kind of psycho who tricked guys into hugging them just so they could take advantage and kiss them. That was what the words coming out of my mind were trying to say, but I wasn’t sure I was making it clear. At some point, I wasn’t even sure what I was saying anymore, only hoping that he would understand. Although, his face didn’t look like he understood.
He didn’t exactly look mad and upset, but he was frowning while he stared at my face. His jaw tensed too, and his expression only made me more nervous and determined to explain.
“I swear I didn’t plan this,” I said, then winced at how bad it sounded. He hadn’t said anything about that, but if he hadn’t been thinking it, then he definitely was now.
To think that he’d tried to do a good thing, tried to be a Good Samaritan, and this was what I’d done in return. Fuck up didn’t even begin to describe what I was.
“I know how this looks, but I didn’t plan any of this, and I’m so so sorry.”
He still wasn’t saying anything. While I was babbling on like an idiot, he was completely silent, watching me. And then, without a word, he got up abruptly and stormed away, his back muscles rippling behind him, his strides sure and heavy.
Jeez, I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me already. More and more embarrassment washed over me, and the more I thought about it, the worse it sounded. I’d groped the man who was trying to help me. But for crying out loud, did the man not own a shirt? How could he walk around looking like some kind of greek god and expect not to be attacked by hormonal women?
Great victim blaming, Tillie.
I took a deep breath and released it, hoping my shame would go with it. I glanced around, noting my bag was still on the floor, and all its contents were currently spread around. I started picking up the items and placing them back in my bag as I thought about what I needed to do next. While I would have liked to wallow for a few more minutes, I didn’t have the luxury because I had work tomorrow at 8 a.m. sharp, and I needed rest. Which meant I needed to figure out how to get into my house.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine where I left my keys, but Brenda had a spare. I dreaded the idea of going back to the bar to get it from her, but it didn’t look like I had a choice.
With another deep sigh, I got back into my car and started the long drive back to the bar, trying to suppress my weariness enough to make the trip. I was bone-tired and probably shouldn’t be driving like this. I felt like I needed to be put under for at least a week to get some energy back, but unfortunately, I couldn’t do that either. I just had to keep going until I couldn’t anymore.
I called Brenda on the way to the bar, but she wasn’t picking up her phone. I prayed she hadn’t gotten too drunk yet or taken the party to another bar because then she would be impossible to trace. That girl wasn’t predictable at all, and she tended to go crazy on her nights out. I’d tried to talk to her about taking it slow, but she always got defensive and angry, so I stopped.
When I got to the bar, it was even more packed than before, so much so that there was a mass of people standing outside simply because there was no space inside. The music was deafening, and I had to squeeze through dancing bodies and drunken swaying as I headed to the table Brenda and co were sitting at earlier.
But they were no longer there.
Oh, God. Panic settled into my chest.Were they already gone?
Suddenly, I heard a familiar loud laugh and looked to the side, relief flushing through me. Brenda was on the dance floor, swaying around, but then I frowned when I saw who she was dancing with.
It was Mateo.
I stayed still for a few seconds, watching them. It was odd. Brenda and Mateo had met through me, and it wasn’t like I assumed Brenda stopped talking to Mateo just because we’d broken up, but I’d never thought the two of them were really close before. Brenda thought Mateo was generally a loser, and he thought she was stuck up. And while they were both right in their own ways, I always thought they only saw the worst in each other.
Now they were dancing together, and it seemed like they were having a great time. It wasn’t just any dancing, either. Now, her back was pressed tight against his front with his hand around her waist. As they swayed together, Mateo bent over and placed a kiss against her neck, a kiss that was far too intimate for them to be just friends.
Huh, I thought, trying to gather my feelings. And maybe it was the tiredness talking, but I didn’t feel any sort of jealousy or hurt feelings toward them. I just felt…uncomfortable.
But above all, I wanted to grab my keys and go home.
I saw Brenda’s purse on the table beside them and headed toward it. I didn’t want to make it awkward, but thankfully, there were so many dancing people that they barely even noticed me, too lost in their own world. It gave me enough time to find my spare key on Brenda’s key chain and extract it. Then, I maneuvered my way out, relieved that I could finally breathe without the noise, smoke, and alcohol. I got in my car victoriously and drove home, thanking God for little mercies.
And as I lay in bed later that night, it wasn’t the image of Brenda and Mateo that came to me. It was my mysterious neighbor and the kiss that never should have happened.
I realized the look on his face after the kiss wasn’t anger but horror. The way he’d pushed me away confirmed it. He’d been horrified by kissing me. And he was right to do so. I mean, a guy like him…he barely knew me, and I realized then that I didn’t know much about him. I think he wore a dog tag, which meant he was ex-military, like my father. That alone should have told me to avoid him, but that was beside the point. I didn’t know anything else about him.
I hadn’t been around enough to hear gossip about why he was in town, but being part of the military was probably why he was so strict and judgmental. And me, well, I was just a screw-up. He was probably used to being with women who had their shit together. A man like him usually wanted a woman who was probably older and more feminine. Or at least women who were pure and wholesome and who didn’t dye their hair a burnt blonde as a sign of rebellion against a man who was already dead.
He wasn’t attracted to me, I told myself, so it made sense that he was disgusted.
Although I could have sworn that, at some point, he’d kissed me back and that our tongues tangled in my mouth, he drew me closer, and he let out a groan when I rubbed my body against him.
But I must have been delusional. Or maybe he did react, but it was simply an involuntary physical reaction, the same as scratching an itch. It had nothing to do with me.
