Page 44 of Forbidden Puck
I rolled my eyes at myself. The fact that I was evenmildlyupset about any of this just proved how pathetic I was in the first place. How could I even be this upset right now?
You know why.
It was because of the look Radar gave me on the dance floor. After all the shit-talking, the fake-flirting, the promises that we weren't into each other—that look he gave me wasreal.Just like last night. He really wanted to do it, didn't he? Hereallywanted to kiss me, and if he'd had a second longer, he would've done it!
And that's what fucked me up the most. I couldn't believe it at the time. I wanted toslaphim! How could he? How could heactuallywant to kiss me, after all we'd already said to each other? About how we weren't interested in each other? About how it was a bad idea for so many reasons?
How could he be sodumbto even be thinking about trying? Didn't he know the damage he'd cause? And didn't he know he wouldn't get laid?
And yet … I didn't slap him. I didn't slap him when I should've: the very moment I could tell the wheels were turning in his head, and his eyes began to soften with intimacy, and I knew damned well that he'd begun to desire my lips. Thehorrorof it all was sort of entrancing. Maybe even alluring. I guess I wanted to see if he could really go through with it. And I was curious ifIcould go through with it, too, and what might happen if we did give in to a moment of weakness.
And then, right then, right when it seemed like it was about to happen—
His girl showed up.
And oh man, the look of pure horror on his face, as his big fateful moment was snatched away from his grubby paws, as if by divine intervention. Like God were personally telling him,you don't deserve this girl, Radar.
What was going through his mind in that moment? Oh, how I'd love to know. I hoped it burned him. I hoped it gave him a serious case of whiplash, as he shifted from working up the nerve to take a chance on something so uncertain,to suddenly having his sure-thing, arranged-lay for the night show up and throw herself all over him. God, that was poetic justice. I hoped he felt dumb and awful. Frankly, it served him right that she showed up at that very moment.
For my part? I appreciated Kara's timely intrusion. It was a perfect reminder of the kind of guy that Radar was: a guy who went for easy lays. He liked girls who squeal his name while they run up to him, girls who jump into his arms and plant their kisses all over his neck, who dress in skin-tight dresses with their tits and ass hanging out, who smell like booze and cheap perfume …
They were probably all over each other at this very moment, freak-dancing in the club, tongues lodged in each other's throats. I could just picture her jumping into his arms, her legs over his shoulders, shrieking in a fake and obnoxious falsetto as Radar powered her into the air with his obscene dry-humping dance moves. All the blood in Radar's brain would drain straight to his cock, and he'd forget I was ever with him tonight.
Gross. He's such a pervert. After tonight, I don't care if I ever see him again. I'll have to go out of my way to avoid him at Lance's … but it can be done.Oh, it can be done.
Another stream of traffic passed, and still no taxi. I groaned.
And then I thought I heard my name.
“Ella!”
But I didn't turn and look because I was sure I was imagining it. No one in this city knew me.
Then I heard it again, closer, and this time followed by the hurried stride of an athlete in expensive leather shoes.
“Ella! Hey! Ella!”
I stopped and turned. It was him. Radar sprinted after me, his arm waving madly to grab my attention. A gush of relief displaced the bitterness in my heart, but I remained determined to keep him at a skeptical and healthy distance.
This guy is just so full of mixed messages and he's fucking my head up.
***
I don't know if he was expecting me to throw myself in his arms and have some romantic kiss like out of a movie, but once Radar caught up to me, the moment seemed to grow awkward. I stood with my arms folded and he doubled over, panting for breath.
“Hey,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I, uh.” Huff, puff. “I couldn't let you leave like that.”
“Why not? That was the plan all along, wasn't it?”
“Yeah, but …” Radar trailed off. He didn't have the words and that fact made him look briefly annoyed at himself. “Damn. Look, Ella, you're covered in goosebumps. I told you you'd be cold …”
He took his suit jacket off in a hurry and held it out for me to put on. But I regarded the jacket, and the act itself, with suspicion.
“Oh, come on, just wear my jacket,” he urged. “You're obviously cold.”
