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“I was drunk,” Jodie says. “You know that.”
I do. Still, what is this irritating feeling?
“So you don’t remember any of it?” I ask her.
“I remember some… parts.”
Not good enough.
I grab my glass of water and gulp it down. I suddenly wish it was whiskey or anything stiffer.
“But yeah, I’ve been with a man before,” Jodie confesses.
I’d forgotten I asked her that.
I look at her. “How many?”
She straightens her shoulders and grins. “A woman never tells.”
Ah. So she demands to know but she refuses to tell. Unfair. Then again, I’m not actually that eager to find out.
“How’s the tuna?” Jodie asks, changing the subject.
I point to my nearly empty plate. “You’re asking me now?”
She grins. “Tuna was my dad’s favorite. What’s yours?”
Now she’s asking the easy questions, the ones she should have asked in the first place. Well, at least the tough ones are out of the way.
“Ribs,” I answer. “You?”
“Chicken wings. I especially like them when they’re buttered or they’re crusted with Parmesan or they’re just a little bit spicy and they come with a blue cheese dip or ranch or…”
~
So that’s what a grown-up conversation is like.
I wrap my towel around my waist as I gaze at the bathroom mirror. I can’t see my reflection so I wipe the steam off the glass, just enough so I can see my eyes staring back and my lips curving into a grin.
True, Jodie and I talked about silly things, too, like how it feels to ride a roller coaster – she’s never tried it – or the weirdest foods we tried – hers was a doughnut with pineapples, mine was a live baby octopus. It was a good thing we were done eating when I told her that because she looked like she wanted to throw up just hearing about it. We talked about more serious things, too, – world events and issues, political figures, her job, my job, drugs, guns.
In summary, that was the most interesting conversation I’ve ever had, not just with a woman but with anyone.
Of course, it would have been better if it ended how it began, with talk of sex, or better yet, with sex itself. Still, I’m not complaining.
I’ve already told Jodie what I think. It was an unintentional, crazy move, but I made it just the same. The ball’s in her court now.
I comb my hair with my fingers as I step out of the bathroom. I stop, hand still on my head, as I see Jodie standing in the hallway.
What is she doing here? Did she want to use the bathroom? But she has one in her room. Is there something she wants to talk to me about?
I slide my hand to my neck. “Hey. Is something wrong?”
I notice her eyes go to my chest and then to the towel wrapped around my waist, but she pulls them away and purses her lips as she straightens herself up. She tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear as she meets my gaze.
“I just wanted to say it was nice talking to you.”
This look. I’ve seen it before, at that party when she was having a good time thinking I was Antonio but she wasn’t sure if she should.
I smile. “Same here.”
She touches her arm. “Also, I wanted to say sorry.”
“For?”
Didn’t she apologize already?
“For not… remembering about… last time.” She looks away and fidgets with her sleeve.
She feels bad about that? Because of the things I said?
I scratch the back of my head as I approach her. When I’m in front of her, I place my hand on her shoulder.
“It’s fine. Like you said, you were drunk.”
Jodie shakes her head. “It’s not.”
Slowly, she lifts her hand and flattens her palm against my damp chest. Heat travels across my skin.
“I want to remember everything,” Jodie tells me in a whisper as she gazes into my eyes. Hers are a deep shade of brown and glossy like chestnuts. “At least, I want to know what it’s like.”
I suck in the breath she nearly stole. “Are you sure?”
I want to kiss her right away, of course, but I have to be sure she wants me.
“Yes.” Jodie’s answer makes my heart leap. “Like you said, I’m an adult with needs.”
So it’s more about need than want?
“Besides…” She runs her fingers over one side of my chest, close to my nipple. “I want to do something for you.”
I frown. “Jodie, you don’t have to…”
“And for me,” she adds as her gaze holds mine. Whatever fear flickered in her eyes has gone now, replaced with the gleam of resolve. “Things have been so bad lately. I need something good. And you said we were good.”
“We were,” I admit.
Very good.
She reaches for the knot keeping my towel in place. “Then let me try it again now that I’m sober so I can see if you’re right.”
