“Are you going to tell him?” Mike asks.
“Nope,” I answer. “There’s really nothing to tell. I have a new job in a new city—a new state, even. It doesn’t really matter whether I like him or not.”
“So you do like him?”
“Haven’t we established that?”
“I was talking out my ass,” Mike says. “Could you reach in the glove compartment and grab me the map that’s in there?”
I open the glove compartment, but all I find is a small bag of pot and a half-empty bag of corn chips.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s seriously the second decade of the new millennium. People don’t use fucking paper maps anymore. Could you pass me that bag? I think I’ve got half a joint stuffed in there somewhere.”
“I’m not letting you drive me high,” I tell him and close the glove box.
“Killjoy.”
We’re on the road for another half hour, and Mike seems incapable of talking about anything other than my situation with Dane. I’m really not in the mood.
When we finally take an exit, Mike pulls the phone out of his pocket and hands it to me.
“Pull up the GPS,” he tells me. “I’ve got everything programmed in there.”
I will say this about Mike: he does come prepared. I really wish he hadn’t come prepared with the bag of weed, though.
We follow the automated voice into the first apartment complex and I have the strangest moment. I’ve been in New York City so long that when I think of an apartment complex, I think of one building with only a few parking spaces out front that are always filled, crammed to the rafters with every brand of crazy person there is.
This place, though. It kind of reminds me of home.
It’s not the nicest place in the world, but the grounds are well-kept and I don’t see any crime scene tape, so I’m already excited.
“And now we wait,” Mike says as he pulls into an open parking spot.
“We wait?” I ask. “Why?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, “their office doesn’t open for another hour. So, when are you going to tell Dane that you want him to split you like a tree trunk?”
“Split me like a—you have a problem, Mike, seriously.”
“It’s not like you didn’t already know,” he tells me. “I saw the look on your face when you realized he was there.”
“I was startled,” I rejoin. “You should have seen your face. Your mouth was open so wide I could see your wisdom teeth.”
“Whatever,” he says. “I’m talking about after the initial shock. You looked like you were going to—”
“Can we please talk about something else?” I ask. “Have you had a chance to try what I told you?”
“What? You mean completely changing everything about the way I kiss?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Eh, a little bit. I don’t know if I just got magnificently better at it, or if I’m still as terrible as ever, but we weren’t kissing very long.” He leans over, grinning and nudges my arm, saying, “If you know what I mean.”
“Oh, god.”
We sit there for a while, and I continue to dodge his questions about Dane. When the office finally opens, we go in and talk to the manager. She takes us on a tour and it simply doesn’t compute that I can get a two bedroom apartment with a decent floor plan for under $1,000.
I really haven’t been living in the city that long, but that kind of freaks me out.
I’m ready to sign the papers right now, but Mike steps in before I can commit to anything and tells the woman that we have a few more appointments today, but we’ll let her know.
By the time the day’s done, I can hardly remember what that first apartment looked like.
“So,” Mike says as we’re on our way back to New York and all the insanity those two words juxtaposed entail, “you’re really not going to tell me what you’re going to do.”
“Nope.”
I don’t want to tell him that, with every new apartment we looked at, I was making a mental note of which room would be mine and which one would be Dane’s. I admit it, I like him and I don’t want to leave him, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to share a bedroom with him either.
Mike drops me off in front of my building and we make plans to get together tomorrow and decide which place is going to be the right fit.
I’m not looking forward to walking into that apartment and having to try and think of a way to approach Dane now that it’s all out in the open, but I don’t get the chance. As I come up the stairs, Dane’s coming out of the apartment.
“Don’t lock it!” I call.
He jumps a little, but nods and opens the door.
When I get up to him, my every thought is of walking right by him, but I stop.
“Dane, I wanted to talk to you about last night,” I tell him.
“Could we not do this?” he asks. “I’ve already humiliated myse—”
My lips are pressing into his and I’m pushing him backward through the open door to the apartment. He’s stunned for a moment, but in a flash, he’s kissing me back and chills are running throughout my entire body.
I know this isn’t the way to leave things with him, but who says that I want to leave things at all?
I kick the door closed behind us and close my eyes as I feel his soft lips against mine.
This is what a kiss is supposed to be like.
His hands move up and down my sides, and I can hardly breathe as our tongues mingle with each other, playfully, sensually.
He pulls back for a second, saying, “Are you sure that you—”
My lips are over his again, and I’m nodding my head, humming, “Mmm hmm.”
I can tell that he doesn’t know how far I’m willing to take this, so I make the first move after the first move, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling away from him just long enough to pull it off of him.
His skin is so warm, firm. He has a tattoo on his chest, but I’m watching his closed eyes as we continue to kiss.
He runs his fingers through my hair, and I can feel a tug in my core like nothing I’ve ever known.
Confident now, he pulls my shirt off and, with one hand, he unclasps my bra. I slip the straps off my shoulder and let it fall to the ground and I press my bare skin against his.
I can feel his heartbeat.
He bends down a little and wraps his arms around my lower back, lifting me off the ground, and I wrap my legs around his waist as I kiss his lips and his neck and he carries me into his room.
He bends down again and lays me on the bed. He kisses my neck then my chest. He takes one of my nipples into his hot mouth, and I feel myself growing wet with the sensation.
My breath comes in jagged and as his mouth moves farther down my body, I close my legs enough for him to undo my pants and pull them off of me.
My legs open instinctively and he moves my panties to one side, his steamy breath bringing me to life. The moment his first finger runs over my crease, I’m already halfway there.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his fingertips teasing my opening.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
A moment later, his finger is inside me and his tongue is tracing a figure eight on my clit. My hands dig into the comforter, and my legs are already starting to shake.
My fingers are in his hair and he’s pleasuring me so intently.
I whisper, “Come here,” and as he stands, I slip my panties down my legs and kick them off to one side.
I sit up and move closer to the edge of the bed, smiling at the growing bulge in his pants. I’m not thinking of consequences now as I undo his pants and pull him out of the thin fabric of his boxers.
He’s hard in my hand, and I run my tongue from base to tip, tasting his skin before I take him into my mouth. My free hand finds its way between my own legs, and I rub myself softly as I suck lightly on his flared ridge.
I can feel his pulse in my mouth, and it’s all I can do to see straight as I look up into his eyes. With my tongue, I press against the underside of his member and delight in the quick gasp as I take more of him into my mouth.
“I want to feel you inside me,” I tell him.
He doesn’t say a word.
He kneels down between my legs and kisses me softly on the mouth.
The anticipation builds within me as I lean back, leaving myself open for him to take me. With his tip, he teases my lower lips and they swell in response, inviting him inside.