Page 51 of The Good Guy on My Porch

Damian returned with a neon pink drink in a tall thin glass. “Ugh,” I said. “If I’m doing this, you’re going to have to branch out, too.”

I ordered Oscar a whiskey and waited until it was delivered to try my drink. I took a long sip. My lips pursed together and my eyes pinched shut at the overwhelming sour and sweet taste. When I opened my eyes, both Oscar and Damian were watching me and laughing. “What the hell is this, Damian?”

“It’s a new recipe I’m trying. Pink grapefruit juice and pink lemonade with vodka and triple sec.”

Damian was a nice guy, really. But he was always trying to come up with new drink concoctions and, though I’d never tried them, I’d heard from friends that they were unequivocally awful. Now, I knew first hand. “I guess I’m not used to sugar with my liqueur,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll love it after a few more sips.”

I know, I know. I should have told Damian the truth, someone should have told Damian the truth, but it was never a good idea to piss off your bartender. Damian was nice, but he took his homemade drinks very seriously. Too seriously in the opinion of most people. I had friends who ordered his creations just to stay on his good side. Not that he had a harsh bad side, but his good side included drinks heavy on the liqueur and the occasional freebie.

Damian grinned and headed to the other end of the bar, just as Jenny, the second bartender finished checking in for the night and came our way. She grimaced. “I watched him make that nonsense,” she said. “I can make it disappear if you want?”

“Won’t he be suspicious?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Probably. But which would you rather have? That drink in your belly or his suspicion?”

Damian glanced our way and gave me a thumbs up, so I put the glass to my lips and took another sip. I did my best to force my lips into a smile and gave Damian a thumbs up back. When he turned away, I shoved the drink at Jenny. “Just make it go away.”

I grabbed Oscar’s elbow and dragged him to a table near the dance floor where Damian wouldn’t be able to see me without a drink. The DJ had arrived and the music was louder, so I gestured to the whiskey glass in Oscar’s hand.

He grinned and tipped back a small sip. He made that face everyone makes when they aren’t used to drinking straight liqueur. Then he leaned toward me. “I think I got the better end of the deal.”

I laughed, and he slid the whiskey drink over to me. We sat in companionable silence as the music got louder and people moved onto the dance floor. Before I’d finished Oscar’s whiskey, a waitress delivered another one to our table, with another cranberry vodka for Oscar. “Who are these from?” I asked the waitress.

“Jenny,” she said. “Says they’re on the house.”

I looked over to the bar and caught Jenny’s eye. The club was starting to get busier, but she saw me and I blew her a kiss. She pretended to catch it and press it to her heart, before getting back to work. She was good people.

I’d have to ask her sometime why she’d never told Damian how terrible his drink creations were, but not tonight. Tonight, the alcohol was starting to kick in and my earlier tension and sadness were fading. I smiled at Oscar and dipped my head to the dance floor, but he leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of his drink. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in dancing with me. Well, too bad for him, because I needed to have some fun. I needed loud music and physical exertion to work off the last of the bad taste the encounter with my mother had left in my mouth, the feeling of guilt and sorrow.

I finished my drink in two quick swigs and hoped off my chair. I gave Oscar a mock-salute and hurried to the center of the dance floor. It wasn’t too crowded, and I threw my hands up and moved to the music, happy to be young and free and able to enjoy the music. I didn’t understand how my mother could give up on life like she had, how she could choose fear over the joy of living. I hoped I never understood.

I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and moved to the music, crowd-watching while I danced. Jeremy, a friend from high school and a man unafraid to get down even though he possessed no rhythm at all, caught my eye and waved. I smiled and waved back. Some of my friends hated living in such a small town, hated that they couldn’t go anywhere without seeing someone they knew, but I liked it. I liked to see friendly faces and know I had people around who knew me, who understood me, even if only on a surface level.

Jeremy started to shimmy his way over to me, but hands landed on my hips and I spun to face Oscar, his expression serious and his jaw tight. I didn’t understand the dark look, but I was glad to see him on the dance floor, so I threw my arms around his shoulders and danced with him. I didn’t grind on him or anything, I kept it all very friendly, but I didn’t take my arms from around his neck and he didn’t take his hands from my hips. Even when the beat of the music picked up, we didn’t separate. I looked into Oscar’s handsome face and smiled, happy to be with him, happy to have his arms around me. My smile slipped as Oscar’s gaze dropped to my lips and heated.

Reflexively, I licked my lips, and his gaze went darker still. I was suddenly very aware of his hands on my hips, of his right thumb that had slipped under my shirt and was rubbing small circles on my bare skin. A shot of pure lust zinged through me and filled me with warmth. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to move forward, just a tiny bit, and let his lips connect with mine.

Before I could remember all the reasons kissing him would be a bad idea. He dropped his head and pressed his lips to mine. It was a bit like being struck by lightning, or what I imagined being struck by lightning feels like, only good and…like I was being consumed by a fire of good feeling and desire. I pressed my body against his, wanting to get closer, and he kissed me harder, pulling me tight against him. Holy crap. I’d been aware of how attractive and sexy Oscar was, but I’d still been entirely unprepared for what a good kisser he was.

He caressed my tongue with his own and I felt it all the way down to my core, like his tongue was touching me in a very different place. Damn, I could only imagine what his tongue could do down there if it was so effective up top. I gripped his hair and let myself drown in that kiss, let that kiss do what the dancing and alcohol had only begun to do, let that kiss make me forget I was a terrible daughter and my mother was sicker than I’d realized.

Oscar groaned into my mouth and my legs turned to jello at the idea that I was the reason he’d made that sound. Why hadn’t we been doing this all along?

He slowed the kiss and pulled back, blinking like he’d forgotten where we were. I know I’d forgotten where we were. “Shit,” he said. “You have a boyfriend.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him we’d broken up, because I wanted more of that kissing, I wanted more of him, but then I remembered all the reasons getting physical with Oscar was a bad idea. He was my neighbor and my friend and, when things went south, which they inevitably would, I’d never be able to sit on the porch and watch the sunset with him again.

I shook my head. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“We should go. It’s late.”

He looked so sad and I hated that it was my fault. We’d had such a good friendship, seeing him and sitting on the porch with him had become the highlight of every day. I followed him out. I felt like I was walking the wrong direction away from a winning lottery ticket or a unicorn sighting, but I couldn’t stop, because the risk…No. I couldn’t do it.

We walked in silence for three blocks, the moon bright overhead, the cars swishing past as our shoes clipped along. My stomach roiled, and my head was starting to ache with that post-party pain, but my lips were still tingling from that kiss and my legs were still wobbly. I was still overtly aware of his physical presence next to me and I wanted so, so badly to reach over and touch him, to link my fingers through his.

“Dilly. I’m so fucking sorry. I hope…Can we just forget that ever happened?”

I knew I’d never forget it for as long as I lived, but I was nothing if not a good liar. “What happened?”

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