Page 91 of Error Handling
I retreat as she approaches until there is nothing but wall at my back. I press myself against the plaster and easily fend off her advances, enjoying the feeling of her hands against mine. We wrestle a moment longer until I catch her wrists.
I slide her hands into mine as she looks up at me wide-eyed. Without thinking, I release her hands, press my palm against the small of her back to pull her closer and lean over to kiss her.
Despite her inexperience, it’s the best kiss of my life. Her lips are soft. Sweeter than any I’ve tasted. I don’t want it to end, but I force myself to back off. So much for my plan to let her down easy.
I straighten.
Sarah looks up at me with a bashful smile.
“Sorry,” I say. “I meant to be all business today.”
Her smile turns to a pout. “Business is boring.”
“Compared to kissing you it is.”
“So, I didn’t make a fool out of myself?”
“Of course not.”
“I never should have told you about my sordid past.” Sarah looks down and points her right toe.
“Why not?” I want to sweep her up in my arms, carry her to the couch, and kiss her for hours.
Focus on her words.
“Most women my age have—You’ve probably—” She waves both hands in the space between us. “I should have just kept it a secret and pretended like I knew what I was doing.”
She begins swiveling slightly, and I place my hands on her shoulders to steady her. I duck to level our eyes. “I think it’s great that you’re...”
“Innocent.”
He smiles. “Yeah. That.”
We both chuckle.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’m glad you told me.” I gather her in my arms, and we embrace for a moment.
“Hey,” she says a minute later. She steps out of my arms and crosses hers. “I think we need to spruce up your place.”
“Oh.” I scratch above my ear. Is this when I bring up Puerto Rico again, or later?
“I mean, I know you may be moving soon, but you’re going to needsomethingto put in your new apartment.”
I relax a little.
“Like what?” I ask.
“I know a place.”
Sarah
I relive our kiss as Chris drives us to 41st Street Vintage Furniture and Antiques. Yesterday’s kiss with Christopher was like snuggling under a warm blanket. With Chris, it was like standing next to a bonfire during an autumn night in Ohio. I still haven’t cooled off from it.
I sneak glances at Chris as he drives, admire the loose curls that he freed when he removed his ponytail, enjoy the angle of his jaw, yearn to run my hand down his cheek, and kiss his lips again.
Less than a month ago, I thought I was genetically or hormonally incapable of having these feelings. They came on like a freight train, which could be deadly if I don't get out of the way. That’s why I suggested this trip. Otherwise, we might still be back in his apartment kissing each other or doing whatever else. It’s too soon for “whatever else.”
41st Street Vintage Furniture and Antiques was my go-to when I decorated my apartment. The old building’s modest white cinder block exterior provides no hint of the treasures beneath its long, rectangular roof.