“Hmmm. Going to make me work for it? Okay. Well, you’re going to have to be the one to suggest the next…” she twists her lips, weighing her words, “place we go.”
“Am I?”
She nods.
“Alright.”
She gives me a smile that steals the breath from me. I’m having a hard time not imagining the tickle of her hair on my skin. We both move to speak because, despite our pact to keep it light, it’s becoming awkward.
“You owe me a dance—”
“I should probably go.”
She frowns. “Really?”
“Yeah, make it a girls’ night. I don’t want you to feel obligated to c
ater to me. I’m wiped anyway. I’ll text you.”
“Well, okay.”
I turn to leave and catch her watching me with disappointment. I give her a wink and take my leave. I’m not in the right frame of mind to be the adorable new friend. Mere steps out of the bar into the cool night air, I jump when I feel her latch on to my back and let out an “ugh.”
“Theeeeoooo,” she says on an exaggerated breath.
Chuckling, I stand uncomfortably with my keys halfway out of my pocket.
“Yes, Laney?”
“Don’t turn around,” she whispers fiercely.
“That would be kind of impossible.”
“Right. Well, I appreciate you. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Are you okay to get home?”
“Yes. Devin’s fiancé is coming for us. I just sent the SOS.” She loops her arms around my waist and squeezes tighter as a few passersby give us odd looks. I couldn’t give a shit. I smell the mint and citrus, and instantly I’m back in that yard. My head goes fuzzy, and it has shit to do with the beer I drank. My chest restricts just a little when she sighs out an, “I like you, Theo.”
“I like you too, Laney.”
I place my hands on hers and wait as she talks to my back. “Your band is amazin’.”
“Thanks.”
“I promise to always watch you, instead of getting more beer or peeing.”
“O-kay.”
“I mean that. Just because I’m buzzed, it doesn’t mean I’m not sincere. And I will collect on that dance eventually.”
I feel the weight and imprint of perfect tits on my back and remain mute while clenching my fists to keep me from embarrassing myself. “Night, Theo,” she whispers, just before letting go. I turn back in time to see the toss of her hair and swish of her skirt just before the door closes.
Theo
I have this theory that men who score easily with the ladies don’t put in enough effort in the sack. Case in point, Bethany. She sits at our cheap folding kitchen table swallowed by one of Troy’s T-shirts with her head in her hands, while I pour pancake batter. This is not a woman who has been sexually blissed out. If so, she wouldn’t be cloaked in morning-after regret. As a guy who’s been sexually deprived most of my adult life, I have no intention of making these kinds of mistakes.
Laney’s words strike me then. She told me it’s awkward until you find the right chemistry.