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“Morning,” I mumble.
“Spill it!” Emma yells at me and I jump. Both of them laugh.
“There’s nothing to tell.” And if there was, I don’t know if I would. I pour the coffee and walk over to the French doors off of the kitchen to open them. Only getting to be here for a few days, I need to soak up as much of the mountains as I can; clean, cold air rushes in, and it feels and smells so good.
“Not good enough, Av. Before you went out to call Mona, you practically bit my head off when I suggested you go over and talk to him, then the next thing I know you’re getting a ride home from him. You rode home with him! That is huge! We’re shocked and so proud of you! Now spill it. Tell us how you ended up with that piece of mancake and in his truck.”
Mancake.The sound of this makes me grin and her comment about his truck has me reliving that feeling of freedom. The night air blowing across my face with the heat on our feet, some of my favorite music ever pumping through the sound system, and the excitement of knowing I was being spontaneous and enjoying the company of a guy. I briefly close my eyes and let out a sigh before turning to face them.
“I hate to burst your bubble, but there’s not really much to tell.” I pull out a chair and join them at the table. “He went out the back door, scared me, I rammed my knee into his balls, we had a few awkward moments, and then he drove me home. Nothing happened.”
“Wait, you crushed his junk?” Cora’s eyes widen with amusement and disbelief.
“Yep, he grabbed me to keep me from falling and I overreacted.” A flush burns up my neck and through my cheeks. Both girls burst out laughing, and I bite my lip.
“Av, that is so classic you. You haven’t been close to any guy that we know of in years, and your relationship with him immediately starts out with you and his junk.” Emma leans back in her chair, smiling from ear to ear.
Years . . . it has been years. Seven to be exact. Maybe that’s why in spite of the panic attack, my memory of last night has me smiling and tips toward the memorable side.
Covering my face with my hand, I pinch my eyes shut. “Oh my God, can we please stop talking about his junk? And I don’t have a relationship with him. I don’t even know him.” In another lifetime though, I think I might like to.
“Did he kiss you goodnight?” I peek through my fingers at Cora.
“Be serious.” My mind drifts to an image of his perfect face, those full lips, and I can’t help but wonder, what would it be like to kiss him? I was so worried last night that he would in some way be deceitful with ill intentions, that kissing him never even crossed my mind. But now that it has, I’m disappointed. I think I might like to kiss him.
“I am. I got a good look at him last night on the porch without his hat on and you were given the perfect opportunity.” Shewouldsee it as an opportunity. Cora loves kissing guys. She’s always said she should have been an actress, because then she could kiss lots of handsome guys with no strings attached. That it would be the perfect job for her.
“It wasn’t like that.” Not even close. However, there’s no forgetting what it felt like to be pressed up against him. My head slid right under his chin, his warmth had immediately surrounded me, and all of our points lined up perfectly. His fingers as they ran across my head and under my hair felt so good. I can only imagine what they would feel like everywhere else.
“Well, at least you’ll get your chance today!” Emma chimes in.
“What do you mean?” I squeeze the coffee cup, not wanting to alert them to the fact I just got nervous.
“We invited them back over to barbeque this afternoon,” she says so nonchalantly, like having guys over is just an everyday thing.
“You did what?!” Oh no, my heart starts racing. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him again, I just never thought that I would. What do I say? He must think I’m a complete nutcase after the way I behaved last night.
“Relax. We’re just going to cook some food and hang out down by the lake. I really didn’t think it would be a big deal. Besides, it’s been a really long time since we’ve had guys around and you didn’t mind being with him last night.” I hear what Emma is saying, but now is not last night.
The two of them are watching me and Cora smiles. Oh no, Cora. She thinks he’s hot and guys are so easy for her. Nothing happened between him and I, what if he comes here, and he and Cora hit it off? I might be no good for him, but I know for a fact I wouldn’t like to see them together.
“Besides, it’s Mancake’s birthday,” she says.
“Why are you calling him ‘Mancake,’ and how do you know?” It irks me that they seem to know more about him than I do.
“Clay told us.”Clay.I wish I knew what his friend’s name is. I feel awful for asking him for a ride home and then not even asking him his name. “And we call him Mancake because he’s delicious and you like cupcakes over candy. Mancake fits him better for you than Mancandy.”
“Fits me?”
“Don’t be dense. Even if you don’t realize yet that you like him, you do. Or you never would’ve asked him for that ride home. Even Clay said it was out of character for him to offer you the ride. It seems your boy is a little bit of a loner too, and no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. We asked,” Emma says smugly.
No girlfriend!
How can he be a loner too? He’s so sexy girls must flock to him, and he must think I’m no different than any other girl throwing herself at him. I’m still shocked at my behavior last night. I mean, who is this guy? In the last seven years, I haven’t socialized, ridden in a car with, or been touched by a guy that wasn’t someone I hadn’t known for a very long time, and all of these things happened on one night. I was so close to him that if he had lowered his arm, we would have been hugging. And although it was just one finger, he may as well have been holding my whole hand.
Oh well, in the end, it doesn’t matter if I like him or not. It was one night, one hour from start to finish, and after today, I’ll probably never see him again. I live in New York, my professional life is extremely restricting, and I could never be what he’d want me to be . . . assuming that he did want me, that is. I gave up on the idea of being with someone else a long time ago. Dating means affection, affection means touching, and touching is something I just can’t do.
It’s time to change the subject.
