“I’m very capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know you are. I just worry about you.”
“You already told me that.”
“And I wish you didn’t live so far away.”
“Didn’t you just tell me it’s better that we hardly see each other because we won’t hate each other?”
“Yeah, that’s not true. I wouldn’t hate you if I saw you every day. We’d still be friends.” His hand brushed right underneath my bra. Why was he talking about being friends as he touched me in a very un-friend like way?
Was he waiting for me to disagree? Was this when I was supposed to make a choice? “Do you think we always have to keep things just as friends? I mean you did hire that girl to make us kiss.” I decided to continue along with his joke.
“I did.”
“And you are practically feeling me up right now.” I expected him to pull his hand back, and prepared myself for the lack of contact.
Instead his hand only stilled. “Does this bother you?”
“No.” It didn’t. The only thing that bothered me was that he was stopping. I slipped my hand under his t-shirt.
His hand started moving again, and he slipped his fingers underneath my bra, still just missing my breast. It was like torture.
“You can keep moving up you know. I like the way your hand feels.”
“Were you telling me the truth when you told me about that guy?”
“Hmm?” I didn’t really want to talk about any other guy.
“The one you said you slept with. We were texting at like one a.m. a few months ago.”
“That was actually three a.m. for me.”
“Same difference. Were you telling me the truth?”
“Yes.” Why was he doing this? Why was he bringing up bad memories?
“And it was really that bad? You really didn’t enjoy it?”
“Are you trying to embarrass me?”
“No. I’m just asking. I hate that your first experience with a guy sucked like that. A girl like you deserves better.”
“And who’s going to give me better? You?”
“I wish.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He pulled his hand out from under my shirt. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not? I’m eighteen and we’re not kids anymore. We’ve known each other for years.”
“Because my parents could be home at any time.”
“They won’t be back for an hour, and you have your own room. Why can’t we move there?” I wasn’t sure why I was pushing for it so hard, but once the possibility entered my mind, I wanted it.
His jovial flirtatious side disappeared and was replaced by a seriousness that was at odds with his usual personality. “See this is why you’re going to get yourself hurt next year.”
“I’m not going to get hurt.” I didn’t think, I just acted. I pressed my lips against his as I climbed onto his lap, straddling him while he still reclined on the couch. He didn’t respond at first, but then moments later he was pushing for access to my mouth. I gladly gave it. He hand moved under my sweater again, but this time he pushed it right under my bra, cupping my breast in the same motion. He squeezed my breast as his tongue continued to move with mine.
I struggled with his belt, wanting to feel him in my hand. Wanting to know if he wanted me the same way I wanted him. He helped me, easing his zipper down, and adjusting himself before letting me take him in my hand. He groaned, squeezing my breast harder as I stroked him. He broke the kiss. “Not out here.”
I moved off his lap, releasing him so I could walk toward the room I knew was his. He caught up with me, closing and locking the door before he nearly tackled me to the bed. He leaned over me. “You’re such a trouble maker.”
“So are you. What’s the problem?” I sat up enough to pull off my sweater. He’d already unclasped my bra, so it just hung off me. Before I could get rid of it he did it himself. He lowered his mouth down to my breast. I reached for him again. He released my breast. “Want me to make that easier for you?”
“Yes.” This was happening. I was going to have sex for the second time, and this time was going to be so much better than the first.
He pushed off his jeans and boxers, standing there in only his shirt. “I guess I should take this off too.” He tossed his shirt.
My eyes widened as I watched him standing there completely naked. He was so muscular, so strong. “Now I feel overdressed,” I joked, hoping he’d get the hint and get rid of my jeans. He got the hint all right. He had my jeans, panties, and socks off all at once.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” He just stood there looking at me. “And so innocent.”
I sat up slightly.
“We can’t do this.” He started getting dressed.
“Wait. What? You’re stopping again?” I held my sweater up against my chest. “Why? I thought you said I was beautiful?” I could feel the tears stinging in the corners of my eyes.
“Too beautiful for someone like me.” He grabbed the rest of his clothes. “Do us both a favor and get dressed and get out of here before I get back. We can pretend this never happened.” He didn’t look back. He disappeared out the doorway.
I lay there motionless for a moment. What had just happened? Had Glenn undressed me and rejected me? Too beautiful for him? What bullshit. I’d never been more humiliated in my entire life. I snapped out of my daze and quickly got dressed.
I knew I could do one of two things. I could run and hide, or I could face him head on. I ran out of his condo and downstairs. I couldn’t find him at first, but finally there he was. He was right by the ice rink. He turned around and his eyes met mine. He scowled and turned away.
It was as though someone had punched me in the gut. My stomach churned, and I could feel the egg nog coming up. After one last glance at Glen’s back, I ran upstairs to our condo.
“Savy, is that you?” Dad called when I walked in.
“Oh, hi, Dad.” I tried to pull myself together. I hadn’t expected anyone to be there.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I need to talk to you though.”
“About what?” Dad patted the seat next to him on the couch.
I stayed standing. “Can we leave after tomorrow and do something just us?” I crossed my fingers that he’d agree. I couldn’t risk facing Glen again.