“What’s the occasion?” she probes, placing the kettle full of water onto the stove before moving about the kitchen, collecting the things that she needs to prepare her drink.
“Just have a lot on my mind.” She nods absentmindedly.
Moving back over to the stove, she places her things down on the counter. After a second, she turns back to me.
I’m not sure what she’s thinking. She looks at me, then down at my drink. She stares at it for a few seconds before her eyes find mine, but not before stopping on my lips for a moment.
Her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink when she catches me watching her. But she doesn’t let it stop her; she just pretends like it doesn’t have any effect on her.
“I’ve never really drank before. Well, other than cheap beer that they have at frat houses.”
“I didn’t take you as a frat house girl?”
“I’m not. I’ve only been to a few parties in my life, and I will most likely never go back. It was awful, and I’d much rather just stay in my apartment and do something else.”
I crack a smile before looking down at my glass and then up to her. I push the glass over to her. She’s put the island between us, but I don’t mind as she stands on one end, and I stand on the other.
She pulls the glass to herself and picks it up before she stares at it for a few moments.
“You’re a bad influence,” she teases, and I see a hint of a smile on her face.
It makes me feel a little better, like maybe we’ll be ok. This isn’t as awkward as I thought it was going to be, which is good.
She hesitantly places the glass to her lips and tips her head back. As soon as the liquid hits her tongue, she recoils in disgust.
“Oh my God,” she hisses, pushing the glass away, not even trying to hide her reaction, and coughing lightly.
I shouldn’t find it cute. But I do. I don’t remember the last time I found anythingcute.
Maybe she’s a lot more innocent than I originally thought.
When I think about it, that would explain the freeze-up when my hands slipped under her shirt last night.
The realization slams into me.
I pushed her. I made her uncomfortable. And that makes me feel fucking horrible.
“That is gross,” she says, her face scrunched up in disgust.
“Why do you think people have to drink several?” I tease, and she just glares at the glass.
“No thanks, that was more than enough for me,” she says, turning back towards the stove to focus on her tea.
I stand here staring at her before I break the silence. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable; that was never my intention.” I place the glass to my lips and down the rest of what she didn’t. She stays quiet for a minute before she turns and leans against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m just not…I don’t like people touching my stomach. I’m still very insecure about it, and I froze when your hand slipped under my shirt.”
She doesn’t look at me as she says it, her arms unconsciously tightening around her as she speaks.
“I’m sorry for pushing your boundaries. I didn’t know.”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have asked for more of you than you were willing to give.”
“You didn’t know, I swear it’s ok.”
“You know, you don’t have to let people walk over you, right?”
