"What makes me different?" I ask. Immediately I regret the question. It is stupid of me to ask, to even think that there is a difference.
“Everything, or maybe nothing. Maybe it was just the timing and the situation, but I think we got something here. Something I ain't had in a damn long time,” he confesses. I don't really know what he means by that, or maybe I do, and I just don't want to admit it to myself. Last night and even during the game tonight, being with him seemed like a great idea. But I know so little about him that it’s scary how little I care what big, awful things I could uncover.
“Listen, I don't do sappy shit," he says. He brings his arms up and rests his hands on the edge of the counter. “But I like you. I want to see where this goes.”
Looking down at his large, rough hands, I think that maybe this could work. He's being direct with me and verbalizing what he wants, and I have a feeling that he doesn't do that with a lot of women. He strikes me as more of a do now and reap the consequences later kind of guy. Only, as silly as it sounds, I don't really know how to be in a relationship. If that's what he even means. I'm probably suffering from some sort of PTSD, or some Florence Nightingale kind of crap that makes me think that everything that is actually a really horrible idea might be good idea. But I've been down the rabbit hole of insanity before, and last time it was alcohol fueled and drug-enabled. I don't have that excuse this time.
"Mindy’s an addict and an alcoholic," I say. I shouldn't be sharing this with him. It's really none of his business, but if I want to keep this, whatever this is, I should start by being honest and letting him in on this part of my life. "You asked why I don't drink, and that's why. I followed her into oblivion and I don’t like who I am when I’m not sober."
I have never willingly shared that with anyone. It’s Mindy’s story to tell, not mine. We went through all that crap together. Only, when I was ready to move on, Mindy wasn’t. “I tried to help her. I enabled her, ended up dropping out of college because of it. It was a hard two years that I don’t wish to repeat.”
"Few months back, my best friend died. It tore me up. Tore Chey up, too. That’s why her grades suck. I wasn’t tuned in enough to notice and when you called me out on it, it only pissed me off." I don't say anything out loud because it seems pretty obvious that there's nothing I can say that he would appreciate. Instead, I opt for hoping that the more I share, the more he'll share.
"Every man I’ve ever dated is a tool,” I admit.
“I’m a tool,” he says.
“No doubt,” I whisper.
Grady reaches out with his thumb and caresses my knuckles. I let my eyes fall closed and the rest of my body sink against his. I never talk about what went bad with me and Mindy because it's still too painful to recall. His left arm lifts off of the counter and curls around my waist. He sucks in a deep breath at the top of my head and releases it slowly. His body grows stiff in every way imaginable.
I take my free arm and place it over his arm at my waist and squeeze. Gooseflesh appears all over my skin. He places a kiss to the back my head and then another to the shell of my ear. I have now had his lips on the back of my neck, the back of my head, and on my ear. And while each kiss is better than the last, they aren't enough.
"Kiss me," I whisper. It worked well for me the last time, so I go with it.
"I'll do more than that. I'll suck on your tits," he says. His hand at my waist travels up and ghosts across my nipple. His words are so crude that I should be offended, but they have the exact opposite effect. An overwhelming need overtakes me. "And eat your pussy."
The same hand drops to the crotch of my jeans where he drags his finger down my center. My body involuntarily locks into place and my breathing ceases for the few moments it takes my brain to process what he's doing. It doesn't matter how much attention I pay to myself, it's never the same alone as it is with a partner. Last night was proof of that.
"And I'll fuck you until you beg me to stop." He presses his hardened dick into my back to emphasize his point. I have to force my muscles to loosen and to remind myself to breathe. If ever my heart were on the verge of giving out, now would be it.