Page 108 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“I talked about us with Thalia on Monday. About Brittany, the tension, the kisses, the night of drinking... Talking to her made me realize you’re much more important than I thought, and the possibility of messing it all up with something so...”

“Something so?”

“Fleeting,” she says, leaving me unsure of what to do.

“You might not like me that way, I don’t even know if I like you as more than a friend,” I lie shamelessly because she’d freak out if she knew the truth. “But we would never be something fleeting for me.”

The words come out firm, and Alexandra blinks twice before looking away and then back at me with a smile.

“Oh, come on, A.J., I can’t even picture you in a relationship.”

“Because I like kissing people?” I laugh, surprised at how prudish she’s being.

“I like kissing too, but I don’t go around doing it with a different person every day.”

“Maybe if I had the same mouth to kiss every day, I wouldn’t be looking for others…” I shrug.

“Anthony…” she scolds, leaning away, but the mischievous smile is there.

“Would it be easier for you if I didn’t kiss fans?”

“Oh gosh, no,” she says, as if I’m talking nonsense. “A contemporary Brazilian philosopher once said, ‘If it’s washed,it’s new.’ So as long as you brush your teeth, that wouldn’t be an issue.”

I don’t laugh, but I let out a relieved sigh.

“Oh, great. At least I won’t be written off as the promiscuous bisexual.”

But this worry has nothing to do with her. It’s just that… people love labels. They stick them on your forehead before they even bother to learn your name. And the most pathetic part? It’s none of their business, but they still want you to know just how uncomfortable your existence makes them feel.

“Jeez, calm down. It’s not like there’s a new sex tape of you every week. Why would anyone label you like that?”

“You know… If I only kissed women, I’d be the guy who ‘knows how to live.’ But since I kiss guys too…”

“Wow, people are so 1990’s sometimes,” she says, and I can’t hold back a laugh.

“They’re ridiculous, but anyway, you’re not going to date me, so let’s leave my kissing habits out of this. Where are we now?” I ask directly, because I don’t want to go home and keep tiptoeing around her.

She stares at me in silence. Probably pondering our friendship and ‘that thing between us, that tension’ she mentioned before.

“We promised nothing would change after the kiss, and there’s no reason to change now. If something happened, I hope our drunk versions enjoyed it,” she whispers in my ear like a secret.

“They didn’t,” I say firmly, and she frowns. “I’d never do anything with a drunk girl. That’s not who I am.”

“Well, we drank a lot. And I might or might not be a horny drunk.”

I swallow hard as the information hits all the wrong parts of my body.

“Yeah, they say that alcohol reveals who you really are…” I tease and she shrinks. “And I’m not that person,” I assure her, touching her hand between us.

Alexandra caresses my face with her free hand, and the cold touch almost makes me tense up, but the touch feels too good, so I stay where I am.

“You’re not. You’re the Golden Boy who leaves food for the girl who’s running away from you... and leaves your own house just so she can feel more comfortable.” Alexandra smiles with tenderness in her eyes, and I hold myself back from hugging her. “I have no idea how I managed to go four days without you. Did you know that?”

“It must have been suffering, but I forgive you for the cold treatment.”

“And I forgive you for convincing me that drinking would be a good way out.” Alexandra narrows her eyes at me. “But one thing’s for sure, you know how to apologize to a girl...” she says, pointing to the view.

“It’s not over yet.” I extend my hand to her and pull her closer, throwing my arm over her shoulders.

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