Page 23 of Semi Sweet
I made it about a block before I decided to ditch my shoes. I figured road rash was better than breaking my ankle. I held them by the straps and was debating stalking store employees on social media to see if I could find any other clues when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Sitting on a bench, looking very pensive, was my mystery man. Or at least I thought it was. He wore the same dark jeans, shirt, and cheap black mask. When he saw me, his smile was broad and disarming. The five shots were still working.
"I didn't think I'd get to see you again." He gestured to me standing before him. "I'm happy to be wrong."
I knew he was alluding to our dance being broken up. Had it frustrated him, too? I was already missing the way it felt when he held me close. It was wrong and I knew that, but it didn't change my feelings.
"Please." I was standing in front of him now. Close, mere centimeters between us. "Tell me who you are."
He stood up, so close I could feel the denim of his jeans rubbing against my bare legs. It was the first time I'd really noticed how much taller than me he was. The top of my head ended at his chin.
"I'm a coworker," he said as if he were explaining the obvious.
You should walk away now. You should go home and sleep this off.
I tried, but I couldn't break my gaze from his. I hoped to recognize his dark eyes. which were hard to see under the streetlights. I had definitely heard his voice before. I willed my inebriated brain to remember. My secret admirer was even closer to me, if possible, his chest brushing against mine and he was leaning his head closer to my own. I could hear my heart smashing against my ribcage.
"I want to kiss you," he murmured, his lips millimeters away.
I should have screamed or pushed him away. Common sense should have told me anyone from Cash Value Market could walk by and see this. This was not what people in relationships did. I had no inhibitions because the relationship I was in wasn’t healthy. It wasn't even happy, just dysfunctional. I had to know if I could have feelings for someone else. I had to know if this mystery person excited me or if it was just the thrill of the mystery.
"I want you to kiss me."
He leaned in, accepting my offer. The kiss was soft. It made me shut my eyes so I could savor it. I couldn't explain it. All this corresponding and guessing and waking up and needing to know what was happening was all culminating to this moment. Even as a teenage girl, I never felt a fire in my heart over someone that had never touched me until this moment. Maybe it had started off being about the mystery, but now it was more, so much more.
The mystery man must not have expected me to react so positively, because when I kissed him back he went into a frenzy. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me deeper and deeper until he pulled away, breathing heavily as he brushed his thumbs against my cheeks. I was surprised by the feeling of his skin against mine, surprised at my own labored breaths as we locked eyes. There was laughter in the distance. I took a few steps back when people in domino masks and disco clothing staggered by. They didn't even acknowledge us as they made their way to the train station.
Once out of earshot, the man said, "You can go if you want."
I knew he was right. The evening had been eventful enough, but I couldn't do it. "I don't want to. Not yet."
There was a bus stop shelter beside the bench. Normally it would keep people out of the cold and rain, but with its large advertisements plastered on its glass, it provided some privacy. At least until someone came looking for the bus. He grabbed my hand and guided me towards the small space.
He leaned towards me again. "Tell me to stop and I will."
Tell him you love Evan. Tell him that this is wrong.
I tried to picture my fiancé's face, but all that was there were pictures of what the man currently standing before me probably looked like behind his mask. Furthermore, I wasn't really sure what I felt for Evan anymore or what I thought love was in general. I struggled with the idea of someone I’d been with for years causing me pain while a stranger made me feel alive for the first time I could remember. I knew I would be back to being despondent in the morning and I'd feel worse in five days when Evan returned from his trip, but right now I was caught in this moment. I didn't want the euphoria to end.
I went as high on my toes as my body would allow and turned my head so I was the one hovering just below his lips.
I shut my eyes and whispered, "I won't."
He almost growled at my response, smashing his lips to mine. I heard the hair pins that had held my updo together ping to the pavement as his fingers raked through my hair. I grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, mostly to keep myself upright and on this planet. Otherwise, I thought I would float away and lose myself completely. It felt like he was literally taking my breath away.
The man drew back and looked at me as if to gauge whether I was coherent and consenting. I couldn't make myself any taller but I tried. I couldn't reach his mouth, so I pressed my lips to his collarbone and neck. I felt the muscles in his neck go taut as his vocal chords rumbled against my lips.
"Please," he hissed as he pressed my body against the plexiglass wall, returning the gesture, kissing my body and making me shiver. "You are making me lose my head." His voice was hoarse. "Don't you know how controlled I usually am?"
I didn't know, I had no idea what made him tick or act out of character. I didn't know if he'd indulged in five shots like I had. I pulled his face back down to mine, kissing him so hard I probably bruised his lips. He stopped trying to talk, and we became tongues and hands groping each other through thin layers of clothing. I wondered how far this was going to go and when I'd have to make that call, overwhelmed and exhilarated by everything.
I never got the chance to make the choice, because suddenly it was like a different person was standing before me. The masked man jumped back and rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. His breathing was so heavy, it almost sounded like he was wheezing.
"It's late." He seemed like he was convincing himself more than me. "And you're too drunk."
I tried to catch my breath, but I felt off balance, like he had been the only reason I was still standing.
He ran his hands through his short brown hair. "What line do you ride?"
It took me a few seconds to process that he was asking about the train. "Green."
