Page 14 of Grease & Grips
Andrés clocks every small movement I make.He doesn’t tear his eyes away from me once.
He’s leaned back on the couch with one foot on the floor, the other pulled up, leg bent in an L. His arm’s slung lazily over the back, but there’s tension in it now. In every bit of him. Once he gathers his thoughts enough to speak, it comes out soft, almost careful.
“How many men have done that?”
I blink. “Done what?”
“Kissed you and not meant it.”
The breath I let out feels like it takes some part of me with it.
“Every one I’ve ever kissed.”
There’s a tightness in his jaw. He lets out a sharp breath through his nose and when his eyes meet mine the softness is gone.
“Sit on the couch, Mack.”
Something must flicker across my face because he’s already pushing forward to rest his elbows on his knees He’s got this look on his face that I wouldn’t turn down even if I wanted to.
“I figured you’d run. Hell, the chase tonight’s been half the fun, but we’re past that now. So either you come sit on this couch, or I’m coming to you.”
The command in his voice is electrifying. My body feels weak and tender as a chill races down my spine causing goosebumps to follow until they overtake every inch of my skin with a feeling so intense it locks me into place.
I try to tear my gaze from his, but my body betrays me instinctively knowing I’d never forgive myself if I missed whatever this is turning into.
All night I’ve tried to convince myself this wall I set between us was about playing it safe, but truthfully I’m scared half to death. Between his eyes on me and the steady thump of my heart against my chest, I don’t know how to drown out the fear so I stare at the stained floor hoping it’ll just open up and let me crawl out of this.
It doesn’t though. Just like me it stays hard and unmoved.
My chest’s too tight. My breathing too erratic. I don’t know what to do with the fact that someone wants me.
I’ve had quick things. Desperate things. Backseat things and gas station parking lot things. I’ve had hands that took and mouths that stayed closed and people who left before I remembered how to say goodbye.
I’ve never had someone tell me straight. No guessing. No games.
Here I am. Come get it.
That’s so goddamn scary.
Because what if I screw it up? What if I lean in and he changes his mind? What if he doesn’t? What if he means it?
What the hell do I do with that?
I stand before I even realize I’ve made the decision.
My legs have never been this shaky. Not in a way that felt real like I might actually keel over, but right now, every step makes them feel more like Jell-O. I’m not even sure I’m gonna make it to the couch.
Somehow I make it the five feet and sink into the space beside him. My limbs are suddenly stiff and unsure and struggling to keep up with the rest of me, but his gravity’s strong, and without thinking, I shift toward him cause we both know I don’t really have a choice.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, already reaching toward me.
I don’t hear whatever sound manages to leave my mouth, but I must give him some kind of affirmation because suddenly hishand is on my back tracing slow circles between my shoulder blades
“I’ve wanted to feel my hands on you since you stepped out of that truck,” he says.
“Do you do this with a lot of guys?”
“Not really, no.”
