“Another pop?” I asked.
He shook his head but kept watching me. I looked at the floor and started from the room.
I had to pass Vance’s chair to get to the kitchen. As I did, I slowed and as if it had a mind of its own, my hand came out and I ran the backs of my fingers along Vance’s jaw.
Do not ask me why I did this. I couldn’t tel you. When I was done, I didn’t look at him, I didn’t stop, I just kept on walking to the kitchen and I didn’t look back.
And when I got into the kitchen I filed my touch in my memory filing cabinet and locked the door.
*
After Monday Night Footbal was over, we said goodnight to Nick. Vance, Boo and I walked through the back room and over to my side. I opened the backdoor, Boo shot in, I turned and stood in the door showing Vance he was not invited inside. There was a step up from the back room to my kitchen so I was looking down at Vance and he was looking up at me. “Wel , nice date, I had a good time. Thanks,” I said, even though I’d screwed up the date total y, so much it real y wasn’t even a date. However, my intention was to make my message clear. No entry.
Vance looked at me a beat. Then his shit-eating grin spread on his face, he put a hand to my bel y, pushing me back as he stepped up and walked in, clearing the door.
He shut the door behind him, took his hand from my stomach and turned to my alarm panel. Then he hit a four digit code and I heard the sequence of buzzes that meant my door and window sensors were armed.
I had the fleeting feeling of anger that he shoved inside but this was swept away by surprised admiration when I watched him set my alarm.
“How do you know my code?” I asked when he turned back to me.
He just kept grinning at me and then he started walking toward me.
My admiration cleared.
Um… not good.
I started backing up.
“Erm… Crowe, the date’s over,” I told him.
He shook his head and kept advancing.
I kept retreating. “Real y, it’s late, I’m tired.” I wasn’t, I was going out that night and I needed him to get gone.
“You have two choices,” Vance said.
I stopped in the doorway to the hal and put my hands on my hips. “And those would be?” I asked.
“We can talk or we can fuck.”
My eyes rounded. Then they narrowed.
I didn’t answer.
“Though,” he went on, “I should tel you even if you pick talking, after we’re done, we’re stil gonna fuck.” I frowned at him and leaned in. “You are too much, ” I snapped.
He ignored my threatening posture. “You don’t chose, I wil and I’l pick fucking. We can talk after.” I was right, he was too much. “I’m not going to sleep with you,” I told him.
He just smiled at me.
“Excuse me but didn’t we just meet yesterday? I’m not that kind of girl.”
At that, he threw his head back and laughed.
“What’s so damned funny?” I asked, frowning and just stopping myself from giving him a big, old girlie shove.
He looked at me. “You were that kind of girl this morning.”
He was right, I was. Another ten minutes and I’d have been screwed, literal y. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing for a number of reasons. At the moment, most especial y, I didn’t want him to know I was a virgin. That might have an adverse effect on my street cred.
“Temporary insanity,” I retorted.
“Jules, choose.”
“No.”
His hands shot out and grabbed me, yanking me forward. Then his arms wrapped around me, pul ing me into his body. I should have been smart enough to learn after seeing it enough times how quickly he could move.
“How about this?” he suggested looking down at me.
“We talk but we save the fucking until later, maybe after our second date when I actual y take you out somewhere.” There wasn’t going to be a second date so I took this as a boon. “Agreed,” I said.
He smiled at me in a way that made me think he knew my thoughts.
He let me go. I walked down the hal but he grabbed my hand when we were walking by the bed platform and stopped me.
I turned to him. “What?” I asked.
His eyes shifted to the bed. “Climb up,” he said.
My mouth dropped open. “I thought we were going to talk.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna do it up there.”
Was he crazy?
“We’re not going to talk on the bed!”
“Climb up, Jules.”
“We can talk in the living room.”
“Climb up.”
“No one talks on a bed.”
“Jules, climb, the fuck, up.”
I whirled to make my way into the living room. I didn’t get even a step. Lightin’ Crowe grabbed my hand again, spun me around then bent, twisting his body and lifting me so he was carrying me around his shoulders, one hand on my arm, his other arm around my thighs.