“Please don’t,” she pleaded. Her eyes were full of sadness.
“What’s going on, Kat?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She bit down on her lip then looked over at the stove. She gasped and I turned my head in her direction. We’d forgotten about the eggs that were still cooking. They were burning and beginning to smoke. I leaned over and grabbed the handle, tossing the pan into the sink. It made a sizzling sound wherever the water touched the hot metal. Hopping off the counter, she asked, “Do you mind if I use your shower? I haven’t taken one since yesterday, and I’m feeling a bit dirty.”
Somehow I knew that she meant something more, but I nodded my head and said, “of course.” When Kat walked away and disappeared behind the closed bathroom door, I took a deep breath. My body was coursing with nerves, but thankfully my dick had settled down. Something I’d done had pushed her to stop, what was happening. I’d never had a girl stop me like that before. I wanted Kat, but I wasn’t sure what to do at this point. I walked over to the table and sat down. Leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees. Playing the scenarios in my head, I thought that maybe if I tried again, she would possibly let it continue and we’d end up doing what we both clearly wanted. And she couldn’t lie to me about that. I had felt her body coiled up with need. Or, I could try again and have her push me away like she just did, and I’d walk away with the world’s worst case of blue balls and she might never speak to me again.
I couldn’t stomach the last part. Looking around my place, something about this girl showed me that she was starting to care. She cleaned everything and unpacked my shit. Hell, she even went grocery shopping for me. People don’t just do that. They help, but not as much as she had done in the past twenty-four hours. Plus, considering how she found me yesterday, I’d never understand why she hadn’t just closed the door and walked away. I must have looked like a total lunatic spouting off my issues like a crazy person. I’ve got too much shit in my own head to be filling up hers with the same crap. I wouldn’t do that to her. And something told me that she was dealing with her own demons right now and didn’t need to be bothered with mine. I also realized that regardless of how she’d seen me, I didn’t feel even remotely embarrassed. Had anybody else seen me, I would have lashed out and been angry. But she comforted me like no one else had before.
I heard the shower water turn off about ten minutes after she went in. She came walking out in a pair of black jogging shorts that showed her gorgeous legs and a gray ribbed tank top. Kat’s hair was still wet and the light that was coming through the living room windows gleamed off her red streaks, making them look more vibrant.
“Do you have a brush I could use?” she asked.
“I have a comb. Will that work?”
Kat nodded her head and I passed by her on the way to the bathroom. She followed behind me. I reached into the medicine cabinet, handed her my black comb and stepped out of the way. She began brushing out her long locks, little droplets flinging off the tips of her wet hair. I desperately wanted to reach out and take the comb from her hand and do the job myself, but I kept my distance. Instead, I asked her a question.
“Did you take last night off?”
She looked at me through the mirror and nodded her head.
“Was Ed okay with that?”
“Yes. I never ask for time off, so he was more than happy to give it to me.”
“Did he ask you why?” I wondered.
“No, he knows that if I wanted to talk to him about it, I would.”
Now it was my turn to nod. I continued to stand there and watch her until she was done brushing out all of the knots. “What time do you have to be at work tonight?”
She turned around and faced me, leaning back against the sink. “I don’t have to be in until five.”
I needed her to feel relaxed. “I have an idea. How about we go rent some movies and veg on the couch until you have to go.” I leaned over and poked her ribs. She attempted to step out of my reach, but giggled. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
She smiled at me. “Alright.”
We’d made a quick run to Port O’Conner’s version of a Blockbuster, which in actuality was a gas station with a small selection of movies. Turned out Kat was a bit of a romantic. She chose an old Molly Ringwald movie, and Water For Elephants. I had raised my eyebrow at her when she approached me with her two selections.
She said, “What? You said I get to pick, and this is what I choose. Deal with it.”
“Always so sassy,” I laughed.