Read Online Four Erotic Tales by K. D. West - Free Book Online Page B

morning.”
    My heart thudded in my chest.
    It was a generous, innocent invitation — Veronica could load a statement with sexual subtext when she wanted too, but this sounded simply like a friendly gesture. I realized in that moment, however, that if I spent the night at Veronica’s, I was either going to end up in her bed, in which case I was going to feel like shit for sleeping around on Rose — casual as our relationship was, it is something I’ve just never done — or I was going to end up on my own, in which case I was going to feel incredibly sorry for myself. Hesitantly, not believing what was coming out of my mouth, I said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    She looked at me, her sparkling blue eyes suddenly very serious, and said, “I’ve really enjoyed our conversation tonight. I know the show’s closing next week, but I’d love to get together with you again, okay?” Then she leaned forward and gave me an almost-chaste kiss on the lips.
    I rode back home with my heart racing and my nerves jangling.
    Before the show closed, however, Veronica found out that she’d been cast in a show out of town, and then I went back for my last year of college. We kept in touch, but it wasn’t until the spring that we saw each other. I was in an Irish play at the same theater company where we had met, and I invited her down to see it. She accepted enthusiastically.
    I made the mistake of telling Jenny, who was stage-managing the show. She got very excited about seeing Veronica again.
    The night she came, I had a hard time keeping my mind on the performance. The ghost of that friendly kiss kept playing across my lips, and I found myself daydreaming about seeing Veronica, even as I was going through the scenes on stage. Fortunately, the character I was playing was a love-sick idiot, so there was no problem there.
    The tradition at that theater was to have the cast go out front after the curtain call to greet the audience — depending on the show, it felt like being on a receiving line either for a wedding, or for a wake. This show was mostly the former; people loved it.
    As I talked to an old couple who were saying something very nice but long-winded about my performance, I looked up and saw Jenny, who was laughing very loudly and touching a gorgeous, petite women in a blue dress on the shoulder over and over again.
    It was Veronica.
    As soon as I saw her, I knew I was in trouble. Veronica’s day job was construction, tiny as she was; her usual garb was baggy jeans and a tight t-shirt, a look she pulled off quite nicely, thank you very much.
    That night, however, she was in a blue silk flower-print dress, and her hair was up in a chignon. She looked ready for a Broadway opening, not a random Friday night at a tiny regional theater, and the sight of her kicked the supports out from under the trapdoor in my stomach.
    I caught Jenny’s eye, and she paused her flitting and flirting. Veronica followed her glance, and her eyes opened round and wide. Squealing and bouncing in the girlish way that had made her Juliet so delectable, she bounded over, threw her arms around my neck, and pulled me down into a warm hug.
    She went on and on about how wonderful I had been in the show — pausing to tell the other cast members that they had been wonderful too. She began quietly to talk to me about where to go next when Jenny strode up, face full of hope and barely veiled desire.
    “How’d you like to go out for some drinks?” she asked.
    I was about to invite her along — I was trying to keep myself from deciding for Veronica what the rest of the evening was going to look like. But Veronica said breezily, “I can’t stick around tonight.” And as she said it she squeezed my hand.
    Disappointed, Jenny touched Veronica on the shoulder one last time, smiled, and wandered off to finish getting the theater ready for the next show.
    As she left the lobby, I said to Veronica, “It would have been okay with me if she’d come