Reaching out

It was unplanned. She was facing the shelves, and I reached out to get a book that I was telling her about, and she turned around right then. She was suddenly caught between my body and the shelves, my arm beside her head, our eyes locking together. My body touched hers only slightly—too much to be ignored, too little to be pleasing. Her mouth was slightly open, and I swear I could hear her breathing, even though the rest of the people at the large book shop had not felt time stopping like we two did.

“If I kiss you,” I said, after a short eternity, dropping all pretenses and touching her cheek with my hand, “I'll hurt you. I'm a lousy boyfriend. I forget anniversaries, I don't pick signals, I don't like to dance.” I wanted to say that I'd be more of a fuck buddy than anything else, but I couldn't be that crude, not to her face, not when she was vulnerable in my arms like that. “There will be moments of bliss,” I continued, the tips of my fingers playing with the lobule of her ear, “but you'll hate me other times. Sometimes I'll take you to heaven and bring you surprises that you'll never forget, sometimes I'll be distant and quiet, and I'll tell you that I'm tired and that I can't see you for a few days. You know me,” I said, wondering if she really did, even though we had been close friends for more than a year. “You know what I'll do to you. And, if I kiss you,” I completed, my fingers now touching her lips, and I could almost feel the butterflies in her stomach, “I'll have to take you into a room, right now, and fuck you until I can't move anymore.”

She didn't nod. She didn't say anything. I wondered if she had even understood what I had said. My fingers were outlining her jaw now. Then she raised her head and closed her eyes, inviting me to her lips.

I kissed her, my hand falling to her hips, grabbing the delicious skin above her pants.

Perhaps I'll fall in love with her.

Perhaps I just won't hurt her too much, I think. But now... Where is the nearest bed?