I want you.”
Clara wobbled a little.
“I've got you,” I whispered. My hands moved to the small of her waist and I lifted her up onto the table's edge. I was feeling bold with her now. Kissing her had shattered all the stone-barriers that had always held us apart. No longer self-conscious, no longer calculating my every move, no longer fearful every word out of my mouth would piss her off—I finally was able to let go. I nudged her thighs apart and moved in closer. Clara let me. She even locked her legs around my waist.
But suddenly I ripped my lips from Clara’s and took one giant step backward. My movement surprised her because she gasped. I’d surprised myself as well. But I needed out of her grasp. I needed away. This was too much, too fast. And if I didn’t stop myself right this second, then I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to stop. I had to stop. For my own mental wellbeing, I just had to.
My chest rose and fell as I stared across the space between us. I guess, at least for a moment, even after our kiss ended, it still felt like I was right there with her across the room.
“Ahem,” came a voice. It was Stephany. “Thanks for the show, guys. I'm officially depressed, jealous, and missing my ex-boyfriend now.”
Clara broke eye contact and looked to her friend.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I could see it. The fear growing on Clara’s face. This thing that just happened between us—it was the best damn thing that had ever happened to me. But Clara only looked horrified now. Stephany, seeing exactly what I was seeing, rushed up to Clara. She took her friend’s hand in her hand. “We'll be right back, Leo,” she yelled over her shoulder as she dragged Clara away from me—across the bar and into the ladies’ bathroom at the other end.
I melted inside.
I sat back down in my chair, scared to death Clara would come out of the bathroom hating me even more than she did when this day began. But you know what, I decided—what the fuck ever. After years of wishing and hoping, tonight was the first time I’d actually done something. Anything was better than nothing. And if Clara hated me for the rest of her life for kissing her and bringing out something in her she wasn’t prepared for, then at least I would always have that one kiss. That one moment with her. And there would be no more lies. I wouldn’t have to cover up my feelings with meanness ever again.
Several minutes passed.
Dammit, what was she doing in that bathroom? Talking about me, I imagined.
Finally she returned. She seemed recharged somehow. Calm. Collected. Unaffected. She approached the table I hadn’t moved an inch away from. I stood immediately. Instantly, I was a worried, nervous mess. I just couldn’t cover up my emotions with her anymore. Not after what just happened.
Clara, the badass that she was, took her beer in her hand. Casually, as if I wasn’t even there, she took a long sip.
“Are you okay?” I asked carefully.
Clara pulled the beer away from her lips. Then very unladylike, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and let out a big gasp of air.
“Clara?” I demanded. “What's going on? Say something, please. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” she asked, sarcastically, looking at me finally. Shit, she was mad. “What's that annoying code word you and Maggie used to say all the time? The two of you probably thought I was too dumb to crack that little language you created to use against me. Oh yeah, I remember now. Peaches. I'm just totally peaches.”
Standing tall, she reached her arm and her beer high above my head. Slowly, she poured the remaining contents of her drink down over my head. I gasped, frozen, shocked, but mostly hurt. “Real mature, Clara,” I groaned. By the time she was finished with her little temper tantrum, my hair, clothes, and face were all coated in liquid.
“That's for making me care,” she told me, setting her empty glass back down on the table. And if my beer shower wasn’t bad
Clara wobbled a little.
“I've got you,” I whispered. My hands moved to the small of her waist and I lifted her up onto the table's edge. I was feeling bold with her now. Kissing her had shattered all the stone-barriers that had always held us apart. No longer self-conscious, no longer calculating my every move, no longer fearful every word out of my mouth would piss her off—I finally was able to let go. I nudged her thighs apart and moved in closer. Clara let me. She even locked her legs around my waist.
But suddenly I ripped my lips from Clara’s and took one giant step backward. My movement surprised her because she gasped. I’d surprised myself as well. But I needed out of her grasp. I needed away. This was too much, too fast. And if I didn’t stop myself right this second, then I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to stop. I had to stop. For my own mental wellbeing, I just had to.
My chest rose and fell as I stared across the space between us. I guess, at least for a moment, even after our kiss ended, it still felt like I was right there with her across the room.
“Ahem,” came a voice. It was Stephany. “Thanks for the show, guys. I'm officially depressed, jealous, and missing my ex-boyfriend now.”
Clara broke eye contact and looked to her friend.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I could see it. The fear growing on Clara’s face. This thing that just happened between us—it was the best damn thing that had ever happened to me. But Clara only looked horrified now. Stephany, seeing exactly what I was seeing, rushed up to Clara. She took her friend’s hand in her hand. “We'll be right back, Leo,” she yelled over her shoulder as she dragged Clara away from me—across the bar and into the ladies’ bathroom at the other end.
I melted inside.
I sat back down in my chair, scared to death Clara would come out of the bathroom hating me even more than she did when this day began. But you know what, I decided—what the fuck ever. After years of wishing and hoping, tonight was the first time I’d actually done something. Anything was better than nothing. And if Clara hated me for the rest of her life for kissing her and bringing out something in her she wasn’t prepared for, then at least I would always have that one kiss. That one moment with her. And there would be no more lies. I wouldn’t have to cover up my feelings with meanness ever again.
Several minutes passed.
Dammit, what was she doing in that bathroom? Talking about me, I imagined.
Finally she returned. She seemed recharged somehow. Calm. Collected. Unaffected. She approached the table I hadn’t moved an inch away from. I stood immediately. Instantly, I was a worried, nervous mess. I just couldn’t cover up my emotions with her anymore. Not after what just happened.
Clara, the badass that she was, took her beer in her hand. Casually, as if I wasn’t even there, she took a long sip.
“Are you okay?” I asked carefully.
Clara pulled the beer away from her lips. Then very unladylike, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and let out a big gasp of air.
“Clara?” I demanded. “What's going on? Say something, please. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” she asked, sarcastically, looking at me finally. Shit, she was mad. “What's that annoying code word you and Maggie used to say all the time? The two of you probably thought I was too dumb to crack that little language you created to use against me. Oh yeah, I remember now. Peaches. I'm just totally peaches.”
Standing tall, she reached her arm and her beer high above my head. Slowly, she poured the remaining contents of her drink down over my head. I gasped, frozen, shocked, but mostly hurt. “Real mature, Clara,” I groaned. By the time she was finished with her little temper tantrum, my hair, clothes, and face were all coated in liquid.
“That's for making me care,” she told me, setting her empty glass back down on the table. And if my beer shower wasn’t bad
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