I opened the fridge and gestured toward the rosé. "I had the same thought."
We both laughed awkwardly.
Actually, the thought I'd had was more like how to achieve the old bow chicka wow. The wine had just been a means to an end. Loosen those inhibitions. Finally make the leap from roommate to screwmate.
Wait.
Was that what Marc meant by bringing wine too?
Oh snap. The butterflies that had taken up permanent residence in my tummy since Hot Marc walked in began a choreographed dance.
"We can start with yours. This one needs to chill." He walked toward me.
"I just put mine in too. So." I held the door open for him as he bent down to put his bottle in the fridge.
"It can wait then." He took the door from me to shut it, leaving us standing barely a foot apart. The heat between us was like a wall, as though we'd had a hot oven open instead of the refrigerator.
"You bought wine glasses," he said, noticing the stemware drying on the counter.
At the same time, my eye had caught on the white adhesive covering his nine stiches. "You haven't removed your bandage yet."
My gaze wandered down and discovered his caramel-brown eyes on mine. Oh, hi. And much like the candy, I felt like I was stuck in his stare.
"I did," I said. "Got them at Target. On sale, even. Not clearance, exactly, but one of those weird sales where just everything in one aisle is like, fifteen percent off … " I was rambling. The words. They were just wandering out of my mouth with no direction from me.
"Nice." He rubbed a hand absently over his bandage. "The doctor said twenty-four hours. I still have-" he looked at his watch, "two hours left."
That wasn't going to work. If everything went as planned, we'd be dazed in post-coital bliss at that time.
Pulling myself away from him, I headed to the kitchen table. "Taking it off a couple of hours early shouldn't make a big difference, Mr. Rule-Follower." I pulled out a chair and slapped my hand on the seat. That required bending down and giving him an eyeful of cleavage. So, so seductive. "Sit. I'll help you with it."
He grimaced, but his eyes were on the goods. "You don't need to do that."
"Considering that I was involved in the procuring of the injuries, I really feel I do. Besides. I want to. Now sit."
He hesitated another second. "Okay. I suppose that would be okay."
"Good! I'll grab the Neosporin and a washcloth." I tried not to sound too morbidly eager to stare at his head wound. Even though I was.
Ten minutes later, I'd removed his bandage and thoroughly cleaned up his wound. "There you go," I said, gently smoothing a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over the stitches. I wiped my finger on the washcloth and tossed it on the table. "All done."
"Madison," he said, softly.
At the sound of my name, I moved my focus from his injury to his face. He was looking at me, more intently even than before. His stare was hot and electric and it burned into me. He'd been sitting in the chair with his legs spread so that I could stand between them while I worked, and now I realized how intimate the whole thing had been. I was so close to him. So near. I could clearly smell his sandalwood cologne and a slight hint of- was it lavender and vanilla? His mother's newest body wash, no doubt. I hoped he wouldn't mind sharing.
Without thinking too hard about it, I ran my hand through his hair. He sighed into my touch and slid his arms around my waist to pull me closer. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on my stomach. I bent down and kissed his head. My heart was pounding so hard it was in my throat, my knees so unsteady that I was half leaning on him.
I didn't know it was possible to get this dizzy from the mere proximity of someone else. To have so much awareness of another body. It made me shiver.
Behind me, his hands found my sash. He tugged slightly on it and peered up at me for permission.
In answer, I stepped back, unwrapped my dress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the sexiest pair of underwear I owned.
God, I felt like her too-like Wonder Woman. A sexy, Amazon goddess. I felt beautiful. I felt beguiling. I was ready to lasso my man.
Marc must have felt the same about me because he couldn't stop staring. His mouth even gaped a little.
This feeling of power was as intoxicating as his kiss.
I stepped forward again and climbed into his lap. I couldn't help but notice the bulge beneath me wasn't quite as … bulge-y as it could be, but I could work on that. I bent down to kiss a trail up his neck.
"Uh," he said.
He was speechless. That's how good I looked. I was posilutely delighted with my seduction.
He pushed me back just a little so he could look at me. His eyes scanned down my chest, down to the cotton boyshort underwear below.
"What? What's wrong?" The way he kept looking at me was flattering, but I wanted him touching me, and he wasn't. Maybe his cut still hurt?
He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I'm just. It's your outfit. It's … distracting."
The Amazon goddess inside me preened. "You should be taking it off," I said in the most sultry voice I could manage."
"Right." He nodded. He started to reach behind me to undo my bra, then stopped. "I'm sorry. I can't. I mean." Gently, he nudged me off his lap. "What the hell are you … what are you even wearing?"
"You don't think it's sexy?" I knew he was more of the academic type, but everyone loved Wonder Woman. Everyone! It was science.
Well. Apparently Marc didn't because he said, "Not really."
Not really? Not really?!
I could feel myself growing red, my blush rising up my chest, then my neck. By the time it reached my cheeks, I'd harnessed my humiliation and turned it into rage. This was not my fault. I was not the reason we couldn't seem to complete a proper one-night stand.
"Okay, you see this?" I asked pointing my finger back and forth between us. "This is you. It was you the other night all along," I said, angrily grabbing the dress off the floor.
Marc's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"You weren't hard then, and you aren't hard now. There's a problem here, and it isn't me!"
He shot up from the chair. "What are you talking about? You're wearing a six-year old's Halloween costume. If I were hard right now, you should be deeply concerned."
I drew in a sharp breath. I might be small in stature, but I'd legit bought this underwear from the adult section of Warner Brother's online store. It was a grownup size.
"Well-well-" I searched for something equally insulting to tell him. "You smell like a six year old girl, so there, Mr. Rose Hibiscus."
"That was an old scent. How'd you know about that one? I thought I'd thrown out the bottle. Anyways, you know that's my mother's business."
I didn't lower myself to answer that I'd noticed it in the trash can and given it a test-sniff.
"That doesn't mean you have to wear it. It's kind of a turn-off." Which was a lie. Marc could wear old bath water and still be hot. But he didn't have to know that.
He rolled his eyes. "Oh for Pete's sake. I held your hair while you puked in my toilet and you're going to talk about how I smell?"
"That's not fair! We'd had a lot of liquor."
"Which was exactly why I'd passed out the night before."
Fair point. He could have that one. "Fine," I said. "It was the alcohol. But we didn't do any better yesterday."
"Well." He scratched at the back of his neck. "That was really all your fault."
"What? How can you possibly blame that on me?" There was no way I could be pinned with that catastrophe. Was there?
He pointed a finger at me. "You stepped on my pants while I was trying to take them off."
"You were trying to take them off over your boots-"
"I do it all the time by myself," he huffed.
"And maybe you should keep doing it by yourself." Nice one, Madison.
"I'm certainly not doing it with you!" He looked just as annoyed as I felt, but he was not about to get the last word.
"Fine!" I yelled creatively.
"Fine!" He yelled back.
I turned around and stomped to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. A second later I heard his door slam shut too. He'd gotten the last word after all.
I threw myself on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest and chewed on my lip trying to stop the tears. I would not cry over him. I would not cry over him. I tried to hold on to the annoyance, but it dissolved into the hurt.
My fault, indeed! He was just as responsible as me. Yet I was the one spurned, wearing a Wonder Woman outfit and sniffling in my bed.
After a while of not-crying over Marc, I decided I'd be much less miserable with wine. I could maybe even draw this up for my sweet new sitcomic. He'd be killed off at the end, of course. Only a couple episodes in, but oh well. Maybe my heroine could just get herself a new screwmate. I stopped in the bathroom to blow my nose and clean up my smudged mascara. Then, as quietly as possible, I opened my door and peered down the hall.