Justin’s kitchen, 6:38 p.m.

Someone once told me that picking off the label of your beer bottle brings bad luck. I’ve never found that to be true. I guess I’ve been pretty lucky in life, unlucky as fuck in love, but very lucky in everything else. It’s been a nice week, calm, relaxing. I’ve pretty much just been doing the normal everyday thing, watching TV, going to the store, going out at night once in a while, doing laundry. I know weeks like this I should cherish, especially with all the shit I’m gonna be thrown in in less than a week. Justin’s got promo coming up. His single is gonna be released soon and then he’s planning on doing a club tour before his release date. The label wants it small, Justin wants it big. Not the show, but the number of shows. He’s asked me if he should push harder and honestly, I like being on the road, so I told him to go for it. Plus the club shows are a hell of a lot cooler than the big venues. I know Justin likes them better and plus, I get to drink and hang out at the club shows. Not that I wouldn’t be able to do that at the big shows, but at the clubs it’s more accepted, I guess.

I sound like an alcoholic.

“Your grandpa was asking about you. He hasn’t seen you in so long, Trace!”

I sigh and switch the phone to my other hand and finish off my beer. “Momma, I know. I told you we’ll be back in town in a few weeks.”

“You always say that. I want a date this time, son.”

I watch as Justin comes around the bar from where he had been in the den. He walks towards the fridge and grabs two beers, takes off their caps and leans over the counter, taking a sip out of one. “I’ll ask Justin and see what he says.”

“Who is it?” Justin asks. Him and his girl have been here all day and I’ve been hanging out with them. It hasn’t been that bad. She’s actually been around a whole hell of a lot this week. She was here last night and I think she stayed over. They’re pretty good with containing their PDA. I mean sure they’ll lay on the couch together and kiss each other, but it’s not all tongue and slobber and groping and humping. Justin had to take a phone call earlier and Mere and I had a nice conversation about Atlanta. She apparently grew up somewhere near there. Then we were talking about food and I started to brag about my empanada skills and she then challenged me to make them. So of course Justin got back, got all excited and I ended up making us all dinner. I guess it was kind of a nice thing.

Would have been nicer if there was a girl with me, or hell, anyone else here besides just me. They aren’t trying to make me be the third wheel and they are doing a good job of including me, but no matter what they try I still feel alone and I still feel awkward around them. I never was this way with Justin and Britney. Maybe it’s ‘cause I knew her better, or maybe ‘cause I wasn’t heart broken at that time.

Maybe that’s it. Shit, I really, really gotta get over this girl. I have good days ya know, where I don’t think of her at all, especially days when I work. But these days just sitting around doing nothing well, it makes my mind wander and it seems to always lead to her.

“Momma…” I tell him and then hear over the line. “Yes baby?”

I laugh a little. “No, Justin just walked in I was telling him who was on the phone.”

“Let me talk to him.”

It’s a demand not a question. I pull the phone away and hand it to Justin, giving him a warning look. “She wants to talk to you.”

He cringes, takes a swig and then pulls the phone up to his ear, standing up straight. “Hey Momma Two...Yes ma’am...Great…Yeah, um, I think it’s not this Wednesday but the next? Like a week and two days or something…Yes ma’am, I’ll make sure he calls you before we take off...That’s right, I do.” He rolls his eyes. “She’s nice...Georgia…No, I’ve been trying to get him out but you know how he is…Ok, love ya….”

I groan when he hands me the phone back and I look at him, “ask you about dating?” He nods. She just won’t give it up. She’s determined to have me married by next year. Well, it’s not gonna happen. It sucked, too when all the shit went down. She was all into the planning process, all excited to marry off her son. She cried more than I did when I told her that Elisha dumped me. “Don’t worry mom, as soon as I go on a date you’ll be the first to know,” I say into the phone.

“I just worry about you, baby. Elisha was such a nice girl and…”

I know now if I don’t shut her up she’ll keep going and I’ll get pissed off and say something regrettable. My momma is wonderful but she’s not the most tactful. Most people assume our relationship is just like Justin and Lynn’s, since Lynn and her are really close and Justin and I are really close. But it’s not like that at all. She doesn’t know everything about me and I’m not really comfortable telling her every little thing. She’s awesome, and of course I love her, but…she can be a little much. I sigh and lie into the phone knowing if I tell her I have to work she’ll immediately let me go. Sometimes I think she believes my job is more important than the president’s. I think she thinks I run Justin’s life and make him his money. I really just go get him his coffee and go shopping for jeans and sneakers with him and hang out. “Mom I gotta go. Justin needs me to do some business. Love you, bye.”

“Oh…ok baby, call me later.”

I snap the phone close, put it on the counter and lean my forehead against the cool surface.

“Elisha, again?”

I bang my forehead against the counter and mumble, “shoot me.” After a moment, I look up and stare over at the sink, eyeing all the dirty plates and the pan and the bowl I use, and then I look at Justin. He’s staring at me. Hell no, I cooked, I ain’t about to do your dishes for you. I know he’s going to ask. He really is a lazy fuck sometimes.

“So uh, what you got planned for tonight?” He says, looking at his bottle. Not cleaning up your fucking dishes that’s for damn sure.

It’s funny after knowing each other for 25 years and being best friends for, shit, I don’t know, 23 of those years he still pulls this. He still never comes out and tells me what he really wants sometimes. Still plays it coy, beats around the bush. It’s hilarious really, but I guess I’ve always been the more blunt one of the two of us. It’s kind of weird. He’s the quiet one, I’m rowdy, unless we get drunk and the roles reverse. Most people think he’s the calm one, but I’m more laid back and I keep it all in line, and when he’s stressed out or if something is bothering him, watch out cause he’ll knock you down to make everything right again. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Nothing, why?”

I shake my head and say again, “Justin, what the fuck do you want?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs and doesn’t look at me. Something’s up. He still wants something. Bastard. “I just figured maybe you’d want to go out.”

“Where you wanna go?” He’s being weird and I’m pretty damn sure that’s not what he’s trying to get at.

“Well no, I wanna stay in, but I know that Marty’s been wanting to hit up the clubs. Christa broke up with him so…”

Shit. I know he means well. I know he’s just looking out for me but that fucking hurts. If he wants to spend some time with his girl he should fucking say so. We’ve always told each other we’d never cock-block unless it was serious and him trying to pull out this you need to get out and hook up with hot chicks shit to get me out of the house, then that’s fucking ridiculous. “So the two loners should go out right?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Yeah it is.” I shake my head. I think Meredith’s getting to him too much. He’s trying to be a problem solver, and he was never good at solving…anything. “Why don’t the three of us go out? It’ll be the shit. I promise we won’t take you to a strip bar and get you in trouble.”

“Mere’s here. I can’t just leave her.”

I knew that would be his answer. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. “You’ve been hanging out with her all day, hell all week.”

“Dude…” He looks over into the den and I do, too. All I see are a little pair of socked feet up against the arm of the small couch that’s in the den, toes wiggling to some music that’s playing on the TV. “She wants to go swimming.”

“Then go swimming! I’m not stopping you.”

He looks over at her again and comes around the counter to where I’m sitting at one of the stools. He sits beside me and talks in a hushed tone, “But I think she wants to go naked.”

I laugh. It’s funny. Justin and I can be raunchy. We’re guys. We can sit here and talk about tits and pussy and fine asses and the best blow jobs we’ve ever gotten for hours. But he can only do it if we’re completely alone. If there’s even another person in the same house, upstairs asleep, or out in the yard, he gets quiet about it, shy almost. He’s super private about everything. He has good reason. And like I said I was always the blunt asshole of the two of us. “And what makes you think this?”

“I don’t know…” He must be terrified of her hearing him talk about their sex life ‘cause he keeps looking over at the den. “She keeps talking about how it’s hot and how a swim would be nice and then she started talking about how she didn’t wanna have to go home and get her bathing suit and how she’s never skinny dipped before and…and…” A grin comes over his face. “She’s giving me the look, man.”

I laugh. “The ‘fuck me or I’ll kill you’ look?”

“Well kind of but,” He frowns for a minute. “We ain’t into that yet.”

“The other day you were bragging about how you were gonna get into her shit soon.”

“Well, she went to the doctor yesterday morning and she has to wait like a week for the pills to kick in. Or something.” He laughs for a moment and drinks from his bottle. I’m assuming the other one he got was for her ‘cause he hasn’t handed it to me. It’s still on the other side of the counter, sitting there. Plus, if he’s about to kick me out I don’t need to be drinking any more. Unless of course I just go home. “She’s got it all planned out.”

“Well if she changes her mind I got some condoms in the house if you need ‘em.”

“I got some upstairs.”

I laugh, remembering a few months ago how Justin came over to my house to brag about how crazy the girl he was fucking at that time was in bed. “Oh right, those neon green apple flavored ones Jocelyn brought over.”

“Shut up!” He narrows his eyes at me. If I remember right, I think it was when he came over to tell me that and show me one of the unused packages of condoms, he was so amazed they were neon and flavored, it was then when I told him about Meredith. I had met her the night before. At the time he had shrugged and said “sure, I’ll tell Johnny to set up a day at the studio or something. She’s hot.”

A few days later we were at the studio, it was late at night, she had just left to go home and he was smiling, rocking back and forth in the chair by the controls. “I think I’m gonna dedicate this whole week to that girl, she’s got something special.”

God, they could be on a chick movie. It’s sick really.

And sicker that I’m fucking jealous of it.

“Hey…” I nudge him and look at him for a moment; he’s reading the back of the bottle and bobbing his head to some familiar but unheard beat in his head. He’s always doing that. Makes him look like a chicken. “We haven’t discussed this really, but…you guys getting real serious?” He laughs and makes some stupid face and continues to chicken bob. I knew it. I knew he’d try and dodge the question. Even with me, his best friend, Justin sometimes maneuvers his way out of answering questions, just like in interviews. I guess he feels like he has to play down love. He never was like this, but then he got burned and ever since it’s been all for fun and games. All about getting off, all about having fun.

It’s different this time and he knows it. And I know it. And I wanna get him to say it. “…like for real, Justin. Stop shitting around.”

“Yeah, I mean….I don’t know.” He sighs, stretches his back and grins, lifting his arms up over his head and yawning. “She’s fucking awesome, ya know?”

“She’s pretty hot.”

He lets his arms drop from over his head and sighs, “She’s fucking gorgeous. I don’t really want to fall for her. Like part of me is doing the whole ‘don’t go down that road’ thing, don’t go and give everything up and put it all into her and get fucked over.”

“But a girl like that won’t fuck you over, at least not intentionally….” I roll my eyes when he doesn’t say anything. “It’s pretty damn obvious she’s in love with you, Justin.”

“You think?” He seems excited. And shocked. Idiot.

“No, I just said that to get your balls in a knot.”

He sighs and I look to see him staring at her still wiggling toes. “I hope so.”

“Why?”

“Makes it easier. Makes me not have to worry about giving in so much.” It’s that type of attitude that got him in trouble in Miami. And its that type of attitude, that scared, holding back attitude, that distance he’s trying to maintain that’s gonna push her away in the end. And then he’ll be more miserable than me and I’ll have to deal with it. And Justin miserable over a girl is probably the most pathetic thing in the world.

It’s sad.

“You guys will be alright. It’s just started, man. Just cherish it. This is when it’s fun, ya know? Don’t be worrying about shit that might not even happen.”

I find it funny, when he was with Britney he was always the one giving me advice on chicks and now, now that I’ve been engaged and burned here I am doing the same thing to him. He was always more mature than me, until it all went down and he got a little too cocky for his own good. I settled down and he went rampant, hooking up with any girl that held his interest more than a minute. And I guess I’ve grown up in the process.

It sucks.

“Yeah…I just, we’ve both been fucked over…and not by bitches Trace, by good girls, awesome girls. I don’t want it happening again. ”

I shake my head. “But we’ve also fucked over some girls along the way, too.”

“I guess so.”

I slide off the barstool and go over to the sink. I rinse out my beer bottle and open the cabinet under the sink to toss my bottle into the recycling box there. “Just stop worrying about it.” I laugh and try to get his mind off everything. He’s got that look, that thinking Justin look. It can be dangerous. “The pool cleaner guy is coming Friday, anyway. So go fuck up that shit. Get nasty with it!”

He chuckles and reaches for the beer that’s been sitting there open, getting warm. “Pervert.”

I walk into the den and lean over the couch to find Meredith there, watching tv, hanging her arm off the other end and letting Buckley, who’s laying under the coffee table, lick her fingers. She holds up her other one and I smack it. “Hey girl, I’m peacein’ out.”

She pouts. “Where you goin’?”

“See if a buddy of mine wants to go out for a beer.”

“Aww, ok. Thanks for making us empanadas!” She smiles at me and for a moment I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t introduced her and Justin. If maybe I had bought her a drink that night, asked her to dance or asked her out another night. Shit, she’d probably date me for a couple times and then meet Justin and nothing would be different. Except things would be a hell of a lot more awkward.

Plus, not that Meredith’s dumb, she’s a pretty smart girl, but she’s not really an intellectual girl and that shit turns me on more than anything. Elisha was smart as hell and it was the one thing that attracted me to her. She could sit there and have a conversation about anything. She was deep and silly at the same time. Love the girl to death but Mere seems to pretty much just be silly and she seems to let other people control her. I like a girl in charge.

I don’t know. I’m probably wrong.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” She sits up and Justin comes over and hands her her beer and sits down on the couch beside her.

I go and grab my keys from where they were laying on the table by the recliner and ask her, “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, for my video shoot. The one starring me and Mr. Timberlake here.” She rubs his back for a moment and smiles at him and then turns her eyes to me and starts to grin. It’s a mysterious, troublemaking smile. It makes me uncomfortable. I start to feel weird in my stomach. “You’ll get to see Courtney…”

I gulp.

Shit. “Yeah…” I wave to them and march out of there calling, “bye guys” before shutting the door behind me and sighing. Why did she have to mention that name? Why the fuck did she have to bring that girl up?

I slam my car door and take a breath before turning around and heading out of Justin’s drive way. I had done a damn good job of forgetting about her, blocking her from my mind, and then she had to be brought up. It’s not really that I’m ashamed of it, but it’s embarrassing that I have a mini non-significant kinda thing for khakis girl. Like, I think I just wanna do her cause I wanna see what she’s like. It’s probably just because she’s the only female I’ve been around for an extended period of time that hasn’t been taken. Maybe she is taken, I hope so. That’d make things a hell of a lot easier.

She gets under my skin and I hate that.

Elisha got under my skin.

But in a different way. Elisha wouldn’t get on my nerves. She’d just make me want more and more and more of her. I wanted to know more and see more and be around her more. With Courtney she gets under my skin and I want her to go away and then I want her to come back ‘cause being away form her is worse than being with her. ‘Cause I mean, she is female company.

And there ain’t nothing in the world better than female company.

But she’s so fucking uptight. I mean yeah, she’s loosened up a bit, but still. I kept trying to give her a second chance ya know, thinking maybe she’s just a little on edge cause she doesn’t know us that well and she’s new to all this but man, I don’t know. Last time I saw her was at Meredith’s house, when we caught them fucking around on the couch. She acted all disgusted by it. Please…it wasn’t like they were doin’ it doggy style on the front porch! And then she got an attitude when we were moving around stuff.

We got Mere’s whole house set up and Court and Justin just kept sending daggers to each other and it was stupid. Meredith even noticed and asked her about it. I lied and said something about Justin getting his period. And she kept being short with me. I’d ask her to help me with something and she’d glare, “I’m busy! Hold on.”

I dropped her off at her place that night and she barely said bye to me before slamming the door and walking up the steps. She lives pretty close by, right on the corner of an intersection I go to a lot. Right…here actually.

Fucking great. I haven’t even called Marty yet and I’m driving around like an idiot and where do I land, smack in front of her condo.

Ya know what? This might be entertaining. What the hell? I’m doing it!

I turn on my blinker, swerve left and pull into the parking lot. This is a mistake. What the hell am I thinking? This is ridiculous. I should just call Marty or go home.

Yeah, I’ll just go home. I think they’re having a Godfather marathon on SpikeTV and I can drink some whiskey and get pissed faced and quote my favorite movie and pass out. It’ll be great. Fucking wonderful.

“Excuse me…” I sigh, look at the receptionists name tag and smile. She looks young, cute, blonde, nice tits. Maybe I should just ask her out on a date. Shit, there’s a ring. Never mind. “Karen…I was wondering if you could help me.”

I’m such a pathetic loser.

“What can I do for you sir?”

I smirk. “It’s Trace, and my friend lives here, but I don’t know which apartment number. She just moved here a week or two ago.”

“What’s the name?” She turns to her computer and pulls something up.

“Courtney Dawson.” She types the name in. Isn’t this illegal? This is going by much easier than I thought. A part of me prays she’ll tell me she cant disclose any information.

She eyes me for a moment and smiles, “Friend, eh?”

I laugh and smile. “You caught me. I’m a male escort.” She cackles a laugh and snorts. Yeah…good thing I skipped out on asking her on a date.

“214 is her number.” She smiles at me and winks. “Mr. Trace do you have a card or something incase another resident might want your services.”

I suck in a breath. Is she flirting with me? Yeah I think she is. Bitch, you got a ring on your finger. I pass her a tight grin. “I’ll have to work on that. Thanks for the number.” I turn, march to the steps, bypassing the elevator so I don’t have to stand there, wait for it, and have her look at me all weird.

It takes entirely too short of a time to get to her apartment. This condo is pretty nice. Reminds me of a place I stayed at when I first moved out here, when Justin and Britney were living together. Shit, I just knocked on the door.

I could run for it. I mean, I’d be a pussy, but I could do it. Could save my skin. No one would know but that stupid Karen lady. She’d probably see Courtney and be like “there was a Trace here looking for you.” And then I’d be in shit.

The door cracks open and I suck in a breath about to make an excuse as to why I’m there, something lame, something that’ll get me off the hook and make me not look desperate.

She swings open the door the rest of the way and takes a deep breath and stares. “Oh…hey.”

I gulp. “Hi.”

She’s sweaty and wearing just a sports bra and spandex pants that look like they were painted on her. Miss khakis is fit, miss khakis has curves, miss khakis is sexy.

Miss khakis is fucking dangerous.

Shit, what was that excuse?

“What are you doing here?” She turns, leaves the door open and walks back into her apartment. I guess that’s an invitation inside. She didn’t say come in, but she didn’t tell me to leave either.

I step inside and close the door behind me. She doesn’t look at me, just turns off her TV that had some work out video on it and pushes a mat and some weights she had out into a corner. She pushes her coffee table back in front of her TV and rearranges a few things. Her place is cute, spacious, kind of reminds me of one of the Friends apartments. Lots of oriental inspired decorations, but it doesn’t look cluttered. It looks interesting, and completely not like how I pictured khakis pants land. She said the place came with furniture, but she sure has made this place her own, adding pillows and curtains and pictures. I know I sound gay but I’ve always had this design streak in me. It’s a cool place.

“Uh, Trace?”

I jump and look up at her, she’s wiping a towel over her neck and her chest. “Huh?”

“I asked you a question.”

Shit, I saw a porno like this once. But it was with a pizza boy and a dominatrix. It was hot. Shit, she’s hot. Shit, look away man, look away! I stare at her refrigerator and fumble with my hands behind my back. I’m a full blown idiot. “Huh, ohhh right. Well, um, I don’t know. Just in the neighborhood.”

“Bull shit, what’s up?” She comes over to me and sucks on a bottle of water. Not sucks, drinks, drinks!! I wipe my forehead. I think I need to borrow her towel. “Did something happen?”

“No, no.” I gulp and figure I need to sit down. My mind has just been blown. I knew khakis could be hot. I mean I saw her in a bathing suit, of course it covered everything and she had this little skirt thing, but she was still hot. And I saw her all dressed up at the club and when we were in Miami. And other times when we were at the beach she would wear these little shorts and this tank and it was hot as shit. But I didn’t realize this, this woman had this body. I sigh and sit down at one of her chairs at a little glass table she has near her kitchen. “This isn’t about Meredith or Justin or anything. I just figured I’d stop by and see how you were, since I haven’t seen you in a bit. You were weird the other day.”

Nice cover. Kind of.

“Oh…” She sighs and sits down on the edge of her couch and looks at me. “Sorry, I wasn’t in a good mood.”

Good, actual conversation starting, not just me staring at her nipples, not to me salivating. Ok, ya know. This is pathetic. I must just need to get laid. I bet Jocelyn would do me. I know she was all about Justin but she was kind of a hoe. I could probably tell her Justin was asking about her and get her drunk and fuck her.

Ok that’s shitty. Plus Jocelyn wasn’t as hot as this. “You seemed fine that morning when we went to get food, then when we got to Meredith’s you turned into Miss Bitch.”

She glares at me and I know I deserve it, but I guess I kind of want to make her mad. I want her to kick me out. “I told you never to call me that again.”

“Well it’s the truth, you know it.”

She smiles. Why the hell is she smiling? She’s supposed to kick me out, tell me I’m an asshole that is disrespectful to women so I can hate her again. So I can stop wanting her.

Shit, I want her. I fucking want her.

I mean I don’t like her. I don’t wanna be like all mushy with her and cuddle and tell her I want her to have my babies. But I want her. I want her under me, above me, around me, on me…

God, what the fuck!!! Stop it you fucking idiot! I need a gun. I need to shoot myself. This…I’m supposed to control myself. I’m supposed to not be wanting to bang the khakis girl, the uptight bitchy snotty ‘I’m better than you’ girl that makes me feel like shit sometimes. I’m not supposed to want her.

This isn’t fair. I should have never pulled that label off my beer.

“You hungry?”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna make dinner, do you want some?”

No, I just ate. No thanks, you cook yourself something and I’ll get out of your way. Nice seeing you, Court. Have a good life. I’m gonna go jerk off now by myself. That’s better than being here staring at you. I gotta go get drunk with my friend or by myself. Bye!

“Oh yeah, sure. I’d love some.” I sigh.

She smiles, opens her fridge and hands me a beer. She drinks beer?! This is a joke right? I watch her move through the kitchen and apartment into a room which I assume is her bedroom. I’m curious, I wanna know what it looks like, if her mattress is soft or hard, if she has stuff animals or mirrors on the ceiling. But I just sit here, watch her walk away and then watch her walk back in with an oversized t-shirt covering up much of herself. That sucks.

I don’t know what she’s making but it smells fucking fantastic. I wish I hadn’t eaten those empanadas. We talk about what she’s been up to. I ask her where she’s from. She says Chicago, but moved to New York after high school and worked her way up in a small marketing firm for up and coming music artist. They have a partnership with BMG but she said about a year ago she got tired of it and wanted to get into assistantship, something she always wanted to do. We talk about the video tomorrow and what time we are getting there. I pick on her workout outfit. She laughs at me and says she was doing Pilates. I make fun of her some more and she just laughs and laughs.

Her laugh gets under my skin, makes me warm…and scared.

For a while it’s quiet, just the sounds of her messing around her kitchen. I watch her wondering if maybe the uptight front she’s been putting on at work was just that, a front. This Courtney is the same and yet very different. She’s at ease, relaxed with herself and with me. She’s in control, she knows what to do. And she’s smiling and laughing and I think she’s having a good time.

With me.

And shit, she can cook. I don’t know what it is but it’s good. It’s like chicken and noodles and some vegetables. Justin always told me, if the girl is hot and can cook, keep her, no matter what. But shit, I don’t even know if Courtney wants me to begin with. And what am I talking about? I don’t want her. I mean I want her, like sex want her, but not as a girlfriend.

That’s actually hilarious.

Me and Courtney dating? Ha! I look up at her and she’s staring at me. Ok, so maybe it’s just slightly humorous.

“Like it?” She’s drinking wine again.

I nod. “It’s fantastic. I didn’t know you could cook.”

She laughs, puts down her fork and leans back in her chair. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, not to sound completely cliché.” She takes a long sip, closing her eyes. “You don’t really know me that well, Trace.”

“Then tell me something.” I smirk at her and she just stares at me for a moment, licks her lip and then pushes her chair back.

“Go sit on the couch, I’ll be there in a second.”

I stare at her. I know those eyes. They are the same eyes Justin was talking about earlier, the ‘fuck me or I’ll kill you’ eyes. Ok, I gotta think about this. Maybe she doesn’t want me, maybe she’s just confused or maybe I’ve completely lost it. But if she does…oh if she does…

What do I do?

Like, do I fuck her? And it’ll be great and wonderful and it’ll loosen her up and make her happy. Maybe she just needs to get laid. Or do I fuck her? And it’s awkward and she wants to actually be with me and falls in love with me and I’m not ready to give into that. Or do I fuck her? And fall for her and she laughs in my face.

Or do I fuck her? And it ends up making this entire situation horrible, makes her hate me, makes me hate her. Makes us just more miserable around each other than we already are.

But well, tonight hasn’t been miserable. It’s been nice, enjoyable. She cuts a light off and I see her coming into the den with a glass of water in her hands. She perches herself on the opposite end of the couch, pulls a pillow from behind her and holds it while she takes a nice gulp from her water.

“So…”

My hands are sweaty. Shit, why am I nervous? I feel like I’m in middle school again and Mary Ann Laurence just kissed me under the bleachers and then told all her friends that I bit her lip and that I kiss like a dog. But I haven’t kissed Courtney, yet. So she can’t go tell all her friends that I’m a dog kisser.

I want to. I want to kiss her.

I set my beer down on the end table and lick my lips. “So, um…” I laugh a little and scoot closer to her. “We need to talk.”

“What about?”

I rub my head and look at the table before turning my head to look at her. “About you making me dinner, about you licking your lips just now, about you turning out every light but the lamp over by the window.”

She shakes her head, “What are…”

“Do you want me, Courtney?”

She gulps and I stare at her. A little shocked look comes across her face. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. She takes in a breath and then it all washes away. The desire in her eyes, the shocked look on her face, it all fades. She narrows her eyes and tightens her mouth.

“You would…”

Fuck it. I kiss her. I don’t want her to turn me down and dammit if I not curious. And the best part, she kisses me back.

She kisses me…me back. She grabs onto my shirt. At first I think she’s gonna push me away but she just pulls me closer, so I’m leaning on her. She opens her mouth and surges her tongue against mine. Shit girl, if you had just said so earlier we would have cut the bull shit and just gone straight to it. She runs her hands over my shoulders and across my back and pushes me against her body Man, she can kiss. She’s getting me hard just off kisses. I hope, I hope she wants this. Even if she doesn’t wanna fuck, I’m happy with just laying and kissing.

But if she does wanna fuck….

She pulls back for a moment and I smile and open my eyes. She’s staring at me. “Shit, Courtney. You got me wanting you bad.”

Her hands run over my shoulders again and fist them in my shirt again. I smile. Damn does she want it!

“Get the fuck off me.”

“What!” What. What?!

WHAT?

Oh hell no. Oh hell no. Do not tell me she just went psycho bitch on me. I stare at her, my mouth open from where she pushed me to the other end of the couch. She jumps up and starts to pace. Bitch is nuts. Fucking nuts!

“Get…” She shakes her head and pulls at her hair. “Just get out Trace.”

She’s not mad at me. She’s mad at herself. I smile and shake my head. “Oh hell no. I just kissed you and you kissed me back and you fucking wanted it Courtney. You were practically begging me.”

Ok that was the wrong thing to say. She glares at me and grips her fist. “Ohhhh really? You think you’re that great, huh? Yeah right. You just took advantage of me, so get the fuck out.” She screams, like, girl is screaming at me and pointing at her door. This isn’t just her yelling and pissed off. She’s furious

It pisses me off. No, it infuriates me. This girl is nuts. Like, who in their right mind would act like this? Grow up bitch! Learn to deal with shit head on instead of running from it. She’s just a fucking little girl with stupid problems she can’t get over. That’s all it is. She’s not even worth my time.

“Fine….” I storm to the door and swing it open. “I fucking will! Thanks for dinner…” She flips me off. Oh, that was mature! “You’re just a tightass cocktease, aren’t you?”

She storms towards me. What’s she gonna do? Pilates me to death? “What did you call me?”

I scoff at her. She disgusts me. And she’s not that hot either. She’s just got a nice body. It’s not even that nice. I’ve seen better. And she’s got ugly socks on. Yeah, they’re ugly, and so’s her little spandex pants with the stripe down the side. Ok, miss 19-fucking 82 with her spandex and khakis. Bitch. “You heard me you fucking-“

The door is slammed in my face. The sound echoes in my ears.