Daddy Crush - Adriana Anders Page 0,1
I tighten my hands into fists to keep myself from touching him there.
“You, um… You do this with all the neighbors?”
“This?” He glances out at the dimly-lit street with its trees and wonky sidewalks and the long line of row houses.
“Late-night front porch interventions.”
He exhales. “You’re the only one, Jerusha.”
My “Oh,” is more breath that voice.
Balanced on the edge of the top porch step, Karl stands like he’s aching to leave, fingers agitated, body vibrating with pent up energy. What would it be like to see him let it all out, instead of holding it in? Colossal, I imagine. Explosive.
“How should he have done it?” I address his antsy silhouette, courageous now that his face is entirely in shadow.
He goes very still, head tilted at a curious angle. “Done it?”
“Kissed me good night.”
“Not like that.”
“But how?” Even in the dark, I can’t keep my eyes from Karl’s lips.
A car approaches, its lights skimming his back before it slows for the stop sign. It’s like that outside presence pushes a button, releases him from his frozen position. He shifts down to the first step, putting a few more inches between us. “You, uh…” I can hear him swallow, the sound loud in the night. Everything’s strangely still, reminding me of a film set. My porch right on the sidewalk, but so enclosed we might as well be inside. “Not something I can explain, you know? There’s just a right and a wrong way and that was definitely the wro—”
“Show me.” The words come bursting out, though I guess the idea’s been there for a while. Maybe since the first time I saw Karl.
“Come again?”
“Show me how you kiss a woman goodnight.”
He shakes his head in this quick little rhythm that I can’t read in the dark. Is he as frantic as I am? Did my request turn his insides to jelly and make him want to turn around and hide? Suddenly, I hate the shadows. I need light to know just how badly I’ve messed things up with my nearest neighbor—the man whose house is literally stuck to mine, whose porch is so close I could climb over the railing and be there.
“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry, Karl. You’re just… I’m just…” I’m hot, face on fire, tears closer to the surface than I’d realized—not in my throat, but right there, burning my sinuses. “I’m a fool.” An absolute fool, to think that the broody, kind, inked-up giant next door would want to show me anything. “I’ll just go inside now and we can pr—”
He mutters something I don’t understand and in two strides, he’s here, above me, around me, his body so much bigger this close. He doesn’t touch me, though. He must not want me to. I don’t move an inch when his head lowers beside mine, putting his mouth to my ear.
“You’ve…” He clears his throat, though it clearly didn’t work given how rough he sounds when he goes on. “Never been kissed?”
“No,” I whisper, keeping every muscle stock still. “Except for tonight, with—”
“Doesn’t count.” His words are warm on the side of my face. He’s radiating heat, this close. I want to touch him, to see if he’s as hot as I am, if his skin burns the way mine does.
“Oh.”
“Put your hands on me.”
After a second’s hesitation, I lift them like a zombie and stall out, hanging in midair. “Where?”
“Where would you like?”
My eyes go to town, flicking all over him. Endless possibilities assail me in a rush—rough face, hard chest, bulky shoulders. Is that short hair as spiky and stiff as it looks or would it give beneath my fingers? My attention lands on his hands. I think about those a lot—and not just in bed when I fantasize them onto my skin, but in class, while working, walking, on the bus. Pretty much all the time.
“Would you… Can I hold your hand?”
The pained noise that rattles deep in his chest tells me that I’ve gone too far.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…” I force a laugh that hurts coming out. “I’ll, um. I should let you go home. Okay, Karl. Good night!”
Karl
“Jerusha.”
She stops trying to get her key in the lock, but doesn’t otherwise move.
“You okay?”
Quick nod. I don’t believe it for a second. Her shoulders are so high and tight she looks ready to fly off.
“Give me your hand.”
After a few excruciating seconds, she turns, head down. I’m waiting for her, palms up. She glances at me, all big, blue eyes and freckles and that