Jay waited for me to elaborate.
I sighed. “He treated me like I might shatter.”
Jay frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’m still confused.”
I huffed. I’d already spilled half the tea. What was the whole cup at this point?
“Here,” I said, stepping closer. “Let me show you.”
I left the coffee table and sat beside him on the couch. Jay sat up a little straighter, accepting his role in whatever demonstration I was about to attempt.
“So imagine we’re kissing,” I said, unsure how else to approach recreating the moment.
Jay pursed his lips. “Okay.”
“And then I reach out and just barely touch your arm.” I placed only the tips of my fingers on his shoulder and looked up at him. I did my best to keep my cool and continue the demonstration, trying not to focus on how close we suddenly were.
“And then, as we’re kissing?—”
“We are still kissing?” Jay asked, lifting an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes. But it’s like a peck, okay? Our lips are touching, but nothing is actually happening. No movement. Just two statues.”
“Understood,” he said, nodding, still fighting that ridiculous smirk.
“And then,” I continued, “You make a tiny sound.”
“A sound?”
“You know, like a kiss me more sound.”
“Ah,” he nodded as if he understood, his eyes sparkling with humor.
“Then I ask you completely seriously.” I sucked in a breath, trying to mimic Tyler’s tone. “‘Is this too much for you?’”
“Is this too much?” Jay repeated, eyebrows shooting up before he let out a laugh.
“Exactly!” I pulled back, throwing my hands in the air. “You see? And then it got worse.”
“I’m suddenly unsure I want to know where this is headed,” Jay said, though the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested the opposite.
“As I was trying to understand what was happening—trying to force myself back into the moment—he took my hesitation the completely wrong way.” I winced, remembering it. “Then he pulled away and said, ‘Let’s just take things at your pace, okay?’”
Jay leaned his head back against the couch and covered his eyes. “Oh. Poor Tyler.”
“Poor Tyler?” I gawked at him.
“Yes,” Jay said, laughing. “Poor Tyler. I really thought he’d be better with women.”
“I’m a horrible person,” I groaned, standing to pace the rug again. “He was just trying to be nice. Why did it turn me off so badly? There has to be something wrong with me. A guy being considerate should be attractive.”
As I paced, the night’s events replayed in my mind. And every time I imagined him asking if it was too much for me, that same uncomfortable feeling in my stomach resurfaced.
I was doomed.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Jay said.
And suddenly, his voice was right behind me.
