garlic. I blink at the room, surprised to see onion strewn across the floor. Beyond the windows, it’s full dark.
“Wow.”
He chuckles and leans in. “Yeah.” Another kiss, more tender this time. More lips, less devouring with tongues. “We keep getting distracted like this, we’ll both starve to d—” His eyes land on something over my shoulder and he curses. He’s about to run to take care of whatever it is and stops to kiss one breast, then the other before carefully rehooking my bra and smoothing it. Which seems to distract him. But the smoke in the air’s getting heavy.
“Save your meat!”
“Right.” He races to grab the pan. “Our meat.”
Squid, who’s been sleeping against the back door lets out a low Woof! as if he knows exactly what’s at stake here.
My feet drop to the floor and I slip back into my shirt as he transfers the pork to a cutting board and puts a piece of foil over it. He’s grinding pepper onto the dish from the oven, then mixes up a salad, opens a bottle of wine and reaches for a couple glasses. “Here or the living room?”
“Whichever.”
“Let’s go in there.”
After slicing the meat, he hands me plates and glasses. With Squid bringing up the rear, I follow him to the front of the house and set things up on the two-person table by the bay window. I sit and look outside at the windy night, feeling like I’m sitting in a restaurant.
Once we settle, with full plates and the dog sitting there staring, he pours the wine and holds up his glass. “You okay?”
I smile. “Better than okay.”
“Good.” He clinks his glass to mine with a funny expression. “Just want to make sure you’re happy.”
“I’m… Wait. What?” Why does this feel weird? “What do you mean?”
“Your first time. I want to do it right.”
“Do it right? Is there a wrong way?”
“You forget the jackass on your porch?”
“Oh. True. What about you? Have you done it the wrong way?” My wine’s still suspended in my hand, untouched. Images of Karl with other women run through my head and there are a lot in my imagination. The hot waft of food’s suddenly not quite so appetizing.
He lets out a puff of air, his face wrinkling into a grimace. “Probably. No, definitely. There’ve been some not so great times.”
“I’m sorry.” My smile feels wooden, though I can’t say exactly why.
“You going to drink that?”
“Oh. Yeah.” I take a sip and set the wine down. It’s good. A little chilled, which I hadn’t expected from a red. And not as fruity as I’d expected. Which is fine. It’s all fine. The setup, the food, the candle he’s lit on the table between us.
But that’s just it, it’s a setup, isn’t it? He’s doing this to help me, not because he wants me, particularly, but because he doesn’t want my first experience to be bad. And now that I’ve told him I love him… “You don’t have to do this, you know, Karl.”
Expressionless, he puts his fork and knife down, his movements careful and precise. “Excuse me?”
“You know, wine and dine me. I know you’re just trying to make sure I’m not…” Oh, crud. How’d I even get into this conversation? “Nothing. You know what? Let’s just enjoy ourselves.”
“Isn’t that what you want?” He’s watching me closely. “To enjoy yourself?”
“Yes.” I nod, once. “Yes. Yes it is.”
“Good. And are you? Enjoying yourself?”
“Um. The food and…” I gesture vaguely at the table and then half turn toward the kitchen in back. “Or the…”
“Any of it. All of it. With me.” He clears his throat. “It’s…fun?”
Fun. Fun? Was this fun? It didn’t feel fun. It felt…important. It felt real.
I open my mouth and shut it again, worried suddenly that I’ve done the wrong thing, following my emotions, even letting them exist, when he just means this as a favor. Helping out the new girl. The country bumpkin.
“You’re…I, um… I appreciate it.” I’m nodding, quick and awkward and smiling like I’ve put on a mask. “What you’re doing for me.” My body aches, sensitive and open. Still wet between my legs. It feels like a hangover, already. “I appreciate it,” I choke out again, because I can’t think of another thing to say. I grab my wine and drink it, fast. “Be right back.”
I stand up and race to the bathroom, lock myself in, and collapse onto the toilet, hot face in my hands.
Karl
That went well.
Fuck!
I thump the table, which rattles everything. Squid sits up