She didn’t flinch when I kissed her. Didn’t pull away. She was surprised though, that much was obvious.
So I did the only logical thing I could think of under the circumstances—pulled away first before she did. I don’t think I’d be able to handle being rejected by her. For some unexplainable reason, I act like a total fool around her. Always have. From the moment I went all caveman on her when we first met in my backyard and I carried her away.
See you around.
See you around?What the fuck, Jericho?
She probably hates me.
I have to fix this situation before I go down in history as the dumbestof them all.
There’s a half-drunk beer sweating on the coffee table. It’s flat now. Warm. I haven’t touched it since I sat down. The TV’s still on, playing some kind of static-paced documentary about rural bridges, but I haven’t looked at the screen in over an hour.
My hands are still tingling from the feel of her skin. I rub them over my jeans trying to erase the memory because I need to move on. At least for tonight.
It doesn’t help though.
The tingling feeling at the back of my head that has been sitting there for a few days now intensifies tenfold. Getting involved with her is a bad idea. She’s too soft for me. Too kind.
She is everything I’ve never let myself reach for. She talks too much. Laughs at the worst jokes. Treats everyone like they matter, even when they don’t in my opinion (fucking Dick). She makes this place feel like home just by walking down the street. She makesmagic. She doesn’t need someone like me in her orbit.
And I sure as fuck don’t need someone like her. Dreaming of having a normal life? Yeah, I’m okay with that. But she’s more than I can handle. What the fuck do I do with a woman who doesn’t like it rough? The life and the fuck. That’s all I know because life sure fucked me rough.
But I kissed her. Publicly. Couldn’t help myself. And I’m new in town, and she lives next door. I paved that road for myself only to be a coward now.
The porch light is still on. I always leave it on. She asked why, and I couldn’t tell her.
I’ll tell her soon. I just need a little more time and the right moment.
Normally I like my solitude, but today the silence stretches, thin and tight. And then the phone rings.
Jethro’s name appears on the screen. Of course. Myasshole of a brother always sniffs out when the time for a call is totally wrong.
I let it go to voicemail. It rings again.
Persistent bastard.
I finally answer. “What.”
“Well, look who’s alive,”he says, voice dry.“I left you a shit ton of voicemails. Where the fuck are you?”
“Still here.”
“Yeah, I gathered. Junie came home from visiting you and mentioned something that got me worried. Imagine that.”
“What did she say?” I ask even though I suspect the answer.
He chuckles.“Said she saw Bigfoot trying to flirt.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “She said that?”
“Semantics. Said her Uncle Jericho was standing next to a lady and looked like he forgot what a mouth is for.”
That was not fucking close, Jethro. Not even close.
“My niece is twelve.”
“My daughter is observant.”
