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And she knew David had followed her in his SUV, because how else would he be parking in the street outside her house? She flipped down her visor and checked her face. She looked… she wasn’t sure what, exactly. Excited? Anticipatory? Nervous? She heard a car door slam and checked the rearview. He was circling his vehicle, making his way up the driveway.
They were going to do this.
Whatever this was.
She knew what she wanted. She wanted to throw him down on the area rug in her living room and have her wicked way with him as soon as she’d shut the front door. But maybe that was too much. Maybe they should just focus on making out. Which, okay, ostensibly that’s what he’d agreed to in the first place.
She was being a jerk and she needed to breathe.
Shoshana made herself flip the visor back into place and grab her bag, getting out of her car to meet him. Her smile felt unsure, shy. She didn’t like those feelings. She hated the vulnerability she felt around this man. Truly, truly hated it.
So why did she keep seeking him out?
“You didn’t have any trouble following me? Good, good,” she said, wincing as she said it. The inanity of it made her head hurt. He smiled, shook his head. She nodded, turned away from him to walk the rest of the way up the sidewalk to the door.
“Shoshana?”
She half turned, her foot on the porch. She was surprised how close he was.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want--”
“Oh, I want,” she said, turning around completely to look at him. She was standing on the porch now, above him. He put one foot on the stair, his eyes taking her in. She wondered what he was seeing.
“Me too. But for the record, if all we do is talk some more, that’ll be pretty great too,” he said quietly, taking another step on the stairs. She knew she should step back, but he was so close again. So close she could feel his breath on her bare shoulder. His fingers ghosted over her skin, skimming the exposed flesh of her shoulder and she almost let herself shiver.
“You’re perfect,” she murmured, closing her eyes because she wanted to laugh. Disbelieving that she’d actually said that out loud, she shook her head. “How are you this perfect?”
“I am absolutely not perfect,” he said. “I have an ex-wife that will happily catalogue for you all the ways in which I am an annoying sonofabitch.”
“Right,” Shoshana said, rolling her eyes because she had a difficult time believing his relationship with his ex was as contentious as that. “When do you have to be home?”
“I don’t know that I have a curfew,” he said, a hint of teasing in his eyes.
“No, I mean--”
“I know what you meant,” he said, fingers going to trace the outline of her hips. “Dani is having her very first sleepover.”
“Yeah?” Shoshana said, making a show of looking impressed. “I think I remember my first sleepover. That’s a big deal.”
“Mm,” he agreed, and she could see part of him wanted to think about that milestone, but he was also still very intent on what was happening on Shoshana’s porch. She cleared her throat, stepping back so that he could follow her.
“Come inside.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was glad she’d turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face.Come inside--was he going to take that as an invitation to, you know, do just that? For fuck’s sake, when had she devolved into someone with the mentality of a twelve-year-old? She fumbled briefly with her keys, her fingers clumsy from nerves, and then the heavy oak door was opening, and she was walking inside the familiarity of her own house.
He was right behind her, and she was glad that the lamp on the end table was lit so the room wasn’t in total darkness. She wasn’t going to trip over anything and embarrass herself. Shoshana made herself be calm, walked into her living room with more confidence than she actually had, and dropped her bag on one of the overstuffed chairs.
“This is pretty great,” David said. She wondered if he were just being polite or if he really thought so. He seemed to be taking the place in, the lamp was more than enough light to see by. Shoshana settled into the couch, reminding herself that they were probably just going to talk. They were good at talking to each other.
“Thank you,” she said, because that's what you said when someone complimented your house. He didn’t need to know about the nightmare that had been updating the wiring, or how hard she’d scoured eBay to find the door plates for all the doors so they matched the art nouveau aesthetic she was going for. He wasn’t interested in how she’d gotten a friend of hers who did woodwork to copy the scrolling, lacework corner details from an old Victorian house in Portland for all of the open-door frames. Instead she settled for watching him as he took in the space, biting her lip because she wanted to tell him all these things. She wanted to go into details, because the restoration let her use skills she hadn’t gotten to use since her days as a theater tech in college.
“Can I sit down?” he asked. His hands were hooked casually in his pockets as though he’d actually be okay if she said no, he’d just stay standing in the middle of her living room. Shoshana winced, wondering if someone somewhere was keeping score, and if so, if she was in negative numbers yet.
“Of course, sure.” She sat up, kicking her feet under her as she moved some of the pillows off the sofa. “Please, sit.”
“You know we’re not going to do anything you don’t want to, right?” he said, after he’d settled into the seat next to her. He was so close she could feel his warmth and she wanted to curl into him like a cat. The urge surprised her, not so much that she had it, but that it was so strong. She really, really wanted this guy to be holding her.
“I know. It’s not that I don’t want--I mean, well, Ioffered…” she said, maybe a little too quickly. She made herself take a breath and let it out slow.
“Shoshana--”
