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Click when we climb the three steps to my small, front porch.
The air is electric.
“Thanks for the drinks.”
I nod, turning to face her and pressing my back to the door. “You’re so welcome. Thanks for not getting…you know, pissed off that I wasn’t your date.”
“This was way better.”
Way better. In what way? I want to ask, words caught in my throat.
She already told you she was sick of dating and loved having the girl chat—do you need her to keep repeating it?
No, I want her to explain away this feeling—the tingles in my stomach and the nerves that have my legs a little unsteady.
Ari smiles.
I smile.
It’s awkward and at the same time, the tension makes it all the better.
“Alright. Well.” Her voice is a low whisper, as if the neighbors would be able to hear her if she spoke any louder.
“It was good meeting you.”
Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave…
“You too.”
I want to invite her inside at the same time I don’t.
Nerves.
Fear.
Then.
She’s leaning in or I’m leaning in—not sure who does what first—our lips tentatively touching and I’ve never kissed a girl before. A woman.
It’s soft.
Gentle.
Tentative like you see in the movies, my hands stuck at my sides while Ari’s reach for my waist, palms skimming my hips.
Oh shit…
She’s barely touching me and my entire body tingles.
Lips press against mine; mine against hers.
Finally, I lift my hand to brush the hair out of her face, the long strands sticking to my gloss, a problem I’ve never had kissing before.
Her boobs press against mine and I want to run my hands up her stomach, over the silky fabric of her dress just to see what breasts feel like when they’re not my own.
Next time, my brain tells me.
Next time.
