Sidelined

“Because all I’ve been able to think about since we got here is taking you back home.” He brushed her hair off her neck and kissed the spot below her ear. It could have been the ocean air breezing over her skin, but she knew it was his lips that caused her to sigh.

“I, uh—I don’t know.” She wiggled toward the edge of the barstool.

His brow furrowed. “Don’t know? I thought we were having a good time.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“I’ll pay for mine.” Her purse was resting on table.

“No, I asked you out. I’ll pay.” He insisted.

Skye slouched on the stool. There wasn’t a real plan, but none of this was going smoothly now without the other two guys as a buffer. She felt awkward and inexperienced around Ben. It was as if his extreme confidence had a way of chipping away at hers. This was no longer one-night stand territory; everything was different. This was a date.

He stood next to her. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Great. She had pissed him off and embarrassed herself.

“Thanks.” She followed him to his truck.

On the ride back to the Gaslamp she tried to think of how she could salvage the night without sleeping with him. That wasn’t going to happen. Her hormones had cooled off along with the place between her legs, and her rational, mature self could win out any impulse she might have where he was concerned. No matter what she wasn’t going to change her one-month rule.

He slowed in front of her building. For a second she thought he might drop her on the curb.

“You can pull around to the gate and I’ll give you the code to get in.” The plan still hadn’t come together, but at least she could try to stall him.

“Ok.” He maneuvered to the gate and she called out the code so he could punch it into the keypad. He rolled forward and put the truck into park in one of the open visitor slots. “Thanks for going to PB with me. The guys enjoyed meeting you.”

She clutched her purse in her lap. “They were great—lots of fun.” She fidgeted with her keys. “Do you want to come up for coffee?”

“Coffee?”

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Wrong suggestion. “Or I have wine. But I don’t know about that after beer.” Somewhere in the back of her head was a rhyme with beer and wine, but with him staring at her she couldn’t remember what order they went in.

He cut the ignition. “Ok. I’ll come up for some coffee.”

“Good.” She smiled, but he was already out of the driver’s side and standing next to her, pulling the door open. She wasn’t used to these kinds of gestures.

It seemed like most of the California guys she had gone on dates with were of the opinion women could fend for themselves. Granted, she was one of those women who liked to fend. She got her own doors, paid for her own meals, and brought her own jackets on chilly nights. It had never occurred to her to depend on a guy for anything. If she really thought about it she knew she could diagnose her approach as a symptom of her parents’ divorce.

When she was eight years old they separated. Her father moved out and she saw him twice a year out of legal obligations. For years she watched as her mother struggled to pay bills, pack lunches, and wrestle with the house appliances. She hated that her mother’s challenges didn’t end there. It only got worse. As long as Skye learned how to do everything herself, she felt equipped to handle anything. She wouldn’t be the woman who fell apart just because a man walked out the door. She could open her own doors.

Her last relationship had ended over a year ago, if she could even call it that. A month and a half in and he complained about her obsessive work schedule. Skye had her own theories as to why things suddenly fell apart after the thirty-day mark.

Unlike last night, she let Ben into the apartment without a fumble. She walked straight to the coffee pot and opened the cabinet above.

“I have decaf.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Ok. You sound prepared.”

She measured four scoops into the filter and poured the water in the top. “Are you hungry?” She opened the pantry, not sure what was inside. It had been weeks since she had gone to the grocery store. Usually she ordered take out or had dinner delivered to the office.

“No. I’m good, thanks.” He turned on his heels and walked to the window.

The coffee dripped into the pot in a steady stream.

Skye picked up the TV remote. “How about a movie?” She punched in the higher channels where the movies were.

“Sure. What’s on?” He walked back to the couch and sat in the middle.