breaks off our kiss and shakes his head, still holding me tightly against him. “I want you, Stella, but we have to stop this. Now. I can’t have a relationship with you.”
I’m stunned, maybe more because he said the R word when we barely know each other, than because he’s rejecting me. Again.
Rejection. Another R word I hate.
I’m too fearful to ask why, so instead I try to rationalize this. (Another R word! Fuck!) “You don’t have to have a relationship with me. Have you considered the possibility that maybe I’m not gunning for a relationship, either?”
Tyler looks confused and I trace my fingers along his ink-stained bicep, making my meaning clear. I shift closer to him, trying to fit our bodies together the way they interlocked so perfectly on the bridge.
“You don’t have to give me roses and promises, Tyler. This can just be about us, our chemistry, the way we connect. I can feel the way your body reacts to mine.”
I’m going for broke, but sometimes a little daring works better than a lot of patience. What was it Tyler said at the restaurant? Life is about being brave.
Yeah. That.
I trail my hands across his chest, feeling his nipple piercings beneath his shirt. I’ve never touched a man with pierced nipples before but I’ve heard it’s an erotic stimulus, so I imagine Tyler can’t be too hesitant to jump in the sack.
I feel Tyler’s energy shift and his mouth leans down to cover mine again. I lean into the kiss, but it’s not the raw desire I tasted just a minute ago. It’s sweet and soft and pleading. He breaks away before I’m ready.
“Stella, listen to me. I can’t have a relationship with you right now. I can’t, and you have to respect that.”
I blink, tears stinging my eyes from the rejection and the implication that boldly taking the lead was somehow disrespecting his choices.
“You can’t have a relationship, or you can’t have sex?” I’m angry and I’m lashing out at him and Tyler looks horrified. “Which is it, Tyler? Because I’m sick of this little mindfuck, the kissing and touching and then pushing me away.”
“Seriously, Stella?” Tyler’s hoarse with surprised anger. “You never just kissed someone to kiss them? Because they smelled good and tasted good and felt amazing in your arms? You never just kissed without expectation?”
I freeze, knowing Tyler is right. I can’t remember the last time I kissed someone just because I wanted to, without expecting to get laid within the hour. It’s a painful truth and it makes me feel easy. Trashy. Cheap.
Tyler doesn’t know he’s already won our argument so he fires another shot, and this one’s a fatal blow. “Or is kissing just an item to check off your foreplay list?”
“Enough.” I push away from Tyler and stand. I’m all out of words and all out of tears. “I’ve heard enough. I’m going home.”
I rush to the bathroom where I strip off Tyler’s shirt and pull on my soiled skirt and top. I stuff my feet in my shoes and pick up my bag from the kitchen bar.
Tyler waits for me at the door, his phone in his hand, a war of emotions on his face as if I rejected him . “I didn’t want our night to end like this,” he says quietly.
Our night. I don’t respond. I let him open the door and I walk down the stairs, his soft tread echoing behind me. We get to the bottom landing and he shoves the stubborn lock open.
“I called you a cab. It should be here soon.” Tyler takes my hand and turns it palm-up before I can pull away. He drops a fortune cookie inside.
I close my fingers over the cookie. “Thank you.” My eyes won’t leave the floor.
There’s nothing more he can say and he finally releases me, opening the door into the cool night. I hear the distant crackle of fireworks, but even the ones that burn bright eventually become ash.
THIRTEEN
“What are you doing Wednesday?” Beryl’s voice is far too chipper for a Monday morning but it lifts some of the funk
I’m stunned, maybe more because he said the R word when we barely know each other, than because he’s rejecting me. Again.
Rejection. Another R word I hate.
I’m too fearful to ask why, so instead I try to rationalize this. (Another R word! Fuck!) “You don’t have to have a relationship with me. Have you considered the possibility that maybe I’m not gunning for a relationship, either?”
Tyler looks confused and I trace my fingers along his ink-stained bicep, making my meaning clear. I shift closer to him, trying to fit our bodies together the way they interlocked so perfectly on the bridge.
“You don’t have to give me roses and promises, Tyler. This can just be about us, our chemistry, the way we connect. I can feel the way your body reacts to mine.”
I’m going for broke, but sometimes a little daring works better than a lot of patience. What was it Tyler said at the restaurant? Life is about being brave.
Yeah. That.
I trail my hands across his chest, feeling his nipple piercings beneath his shirt. I’ve never touched a man with pierced nipples before but I’ve heard it’s an erotic stimulus, so I imagine Tyler can’t be too hesitant to jump in the sack.
I feel Tyler’s energy shift and his mouth leans down to cover mine again. I lean into the kiss, but it’s not the raw desire I tasted just a minute ago. It’s sweet and soft and pleading. He breaks away before I’m ready.
“Stella, listen to me. I can’t have a relationship with you right now. I can’t, and you have to respect that.”
I blink, tears stinging my eyes from the rejection and the implication that boldly taking the lead was somehow disrespecting his choices.
“You can’t have a relationship, or you can’t have sex?” I’m angry and I’m lashing out at him and Tyler looks horrified. “Which is it, Tyler? Because I’m sick of this little mindfuck, the kissing and touching and then pushing me away.”
“Seriously, Stella?” Tyler’s hoarse with surprised anger. “You never just kissed someone to kiss them? Because they smelled good and tasted good and felt amazing in your arms? You never just kissed without expectation?”
I freeze, knowing Tyler is right. I can’t remember the last time I kissed someone just because I wanted to, without expecting to get laid within the hour. It’s a painful truth and it makes me feel easy. Trashy. Cheap.
Tyler doesn’t know he’s already won our argument so he fires another shot, and this one’s a fatal blow. “Or is kissing just an item to check off your foreplay list?”
“Enough.” I push away from Tyler and stand. I’m all out of words and all out of tears. “I’ve heard enough. I’m going home.”
I rush to the bathroom where I strip off Tyler’s shirt and pull on my soiled skirt and top. I stuff my feet in my shoes and pick up my bag from the kitchen bar.
Tyler waits for me at the door, his phone in his hand, a war of emotions on his face as if I rejected him . “I didn’t want our night to end like this,” he says quietly.
Our night. I don’t respond. I let him open the door and I walk down the stairs, his soft tread echoing behind me. We get to the bottom landing and he shoves the stubborn lock open.
“I called you a cab. It should be here soon.” Tyler takes my hand and turns it palm-up before I can pull away. He drops a fortune cookie inside.
I close my fingers over the cookie. “Thank you.” My eyes won’t leave the floor.
There’s nothing more he can say and he finally releases me, opening the door into the cool night. I hear the distant crackle of fireworks, but even the ones that burn bright eventually become ash.
THIRTEEN
“What are you doing Wednesday?” Beryl’s voice is far too chipper for a Monday morning but it lifts some of the funk
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