One and Done - S. Briones Lim Page 0,71
somehow in the few minutes we walked around the restaurant a huge snowstorm hit Bethel Falls and when I say huge, picture the abominable snowman taking refuge from Jack Frost. It was that horrible.
As I fought an internal battle between hormones, fear, happiness, and outright shock at the prospect that Rocky would have to sleep over at my apartment, she stared blissfully at the sketch hanging toward the back of my restaurant. It was the picture—her picture—that I stole from the art department. I hung the sketch in my restaurant not only because it reminded me of Rocky, but also because it reminded me not to be so reckless. Sometimes doing things to impress someone else could backfire on you. Impulsivity control wasn’t always my strong suit and this picture reminded me of that. Ironically, I was now faced with what had to be the biggest test of my impulsivity. Rocky would be staying at my place…I needed to be careful.
“You ready?”
“For what?” She quickly looked away from the sketch, her head snapping in my direction like a rubber band.
“I guess my restaurant isn’t the only thing we’ll be touring tonight,” I had the audacity to joke. “Let’s get some pizza and head over to my apartment.”
“Your apartment,” she repeated in a blank tone.
“Are you my echo?” I strained to keep the smile on my face, but I was nervous as hell. Rocky didn’t say anything more and abruptly turned toward the door.
Shit. Tonight was gonna be some test.
***
Do you know those moments in life when the air around you feels so thick in awkwardness that you could almost cut through the tension with a butter knife? Those moments don’t hold a pickle to our “cozy pizza dinner.”
I took my time, biting into each piece slowly and carefully, acting as if I were savoring every morsel of pepperoni. I was stalling, trying hard to distract myself from a subject that was bound to come up—sleeping arrangements. I wasn’t stupid. I knew Rocky probably wanted nothing to do with me at this point. I’ve pulled her through the ringer, playing with her mind and emotions since high school. Yet I was a man, and as a man I could not help the visceral reaction that catapulted inside of me every time I looked into those big brown eyes of her.
In another world I’d be looking into those eyes while her legs were wrapped around my waist and her arms around my neck. I’d lean forward and press kisses against her clavicles, working my way down to her breasts and then further to…
Fuck! What was I doing?
Throat suddenly feeling parched, I practically shouted, “Did you want something else to drink?”
“I’m sorry?” Rocky jumped. Shit. Of course I’d startle her.
Racking my brain for a response, I heard myself say, “I only have water here. I forgot to ask if you wanted a beer or something.”
“I don’t drink like that.”
Good girl.
“Funny, me too.” I reached for a napkin, rubbing the square paper hard against my skin. I figured any momentary sting of pain may shock my body enough so that I wasn’t sporting a chub at half-mast. Lord knows I didn’t need the dinner to be even more awkward that it already was. Begrudgingly, I asked, “You tired?”
Even speaking the words caused my mouth to dry up like a California drought. I quickly reached out and grabbed my water, taking my time and relishing each drop of liquid, reveling in the way it moistened my throat. Gulp after gulp it soothed me. Finally feeling like myself again—not to mention the fact that my boner had finally gone away—I glanced over at Rocky, who looked as still as a statue. Her mouth was pressed together in a tight line and her eyes were…well, they were staring at me as if I had grown two heads. I frowned at her, wondering if the drive down had gotten her sick or something.
She blinked a few times and quickly asked. “Where can I sleep?”
Oh, she’s just tired.
As if on cue her beautiful eyes began to droop. She turned toward my couch and lifted her index finger. “I can sleep over here.”
As tempted as I was to lock myself in my room and relieve myself all night, I knew I was better than that. “No. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t have the decency to offer you my bed?”
Saying the word ‘friend’ pained me to no end. I was grasping at straws and I knew