"Okay," I agreed.
There was no sign of Woody in the building's foyer, or in the elevator car on the ride up. Not in the corridor outside my apartment either.
I pulled out my card and swiped it to unlock, pushing the door open carefully and stepping inside.
"Looks like it's just us," I said. "Would you like another drink? Or a coffee?" I tossed my coat in the direction of the couch, missing by about a foot. I shrugged as it landed on the floor, and headed over to the kitchen.
"There's something else I'd like," Forrest said.
He closed the door behind him and followed me to the kitchen.
I turned around, my back to the countertop. He placed his hands to either side, boxing me in. Lightly and carefully, he brushed his lips over mine.
My pulse kicked up a notch or two. His body was so close I could feel the warmth radiating off him. Unlike Woody's body, his was comforting. Safe. I could get lost in him.
He pushed himself off the counter and stepped away.
"I should say goodnight," he said, his voice rough.
I glanced towards his groin. There was a woody here after all, one in his pants. One I wanted to touch, to taste, but then he was stepping away.
"Forrest," I whispered.
He offered me a faint smile. "I don't want to do anything either of us would regret. I like you, Sable Kohl. I want to see you again, but I don't want to pressure you. When you're ready…"
I opened my mouth to tell him I was ready, but closed it again. He was right. This was something I couldn't rush, not without the risk of ruining everything.
"I like you too," I said. "If you ask me out again, I'll probably say yes." I cocked my head at him.
"I have tickets to the Rooks game on Saturday night," he said. "Courtesy of Leif and his brother. We have a private box if you'd like to accompany me?"
"To the hockey game?" I asked. I wouldn't have guessed he was a fan. But then, as I'd observed, I didn't know much about him. "I've never been, but sure. I'm down to trying new things."
"Good. I'll pick you up before the game. You can meet Leif. I have a feeling you two will click."
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to set us up. I decided I was imagining it. Who’d ask a woman out, only to introduce her to someone he thought she could get involved with romantically? Although, that could be more common than I knew.
"You're not going to tell Woody where we're going, are you?" I asked. If they were acquaintances, chances were we'd bump into each other again. Would he try to finish what he started earlier in the evening?
"I could tell him to stay away," Forrest said. "Or you could get to know each other."
I made a face. "Pardon the pun, but the jury is out on that one."
Did I want to be friends with someone who tried to kill me? That was a decision for when I was sober. Tipsy me didn't seem to think it was such a bad idea, which is exactly why tipsy me shouldn't be allowed to make choices.
Except this one.
I stepped over to Forrest, grabbed him by the lapels and pressed my mouth to his. He swiped his tongue over my lips, dipping inside before he pulled back.
I let him go and stepped away.
"Until Saturday night then," I said.
"Until then," he agreed.
He turned slowly and walked toward the door. "Make sure you lock it behind me,” he said before he disappeared.
I slid the two bolts and lock back into place. Double-checked them to make sure they were fully engaged, then started to panic.
