Lipstick & Lattes Read online

  Oh. I expected more. Maybe ask me out again. Tell me how much he enjoyed the kiss. Should I respond? What can I say next that doesn’t seem pushy? If Hannah were here she would insist I be proactive and ask him out. Didn’t I already do that when I put the ad on Craigslist? I don’t want to seem desperate. No. I sigh and place my cracked phone on the nightstand, cussing at myself for not buying the insurance, and replace it with the remote in my hand. Maybe I’ll turn on Twilight for the umpteenth time and fall asleep.

  My phone dings again. He’s saying something else! The phone does a flip when I snatch it off the nightstand, and I’m lucky enough to catch it this time.

  I’m bored. Want company?

  Do I want company? He wants to come over! To my apartment? Now?

  Yes. Sure. Come on over. I’ll give you directions.

  I give him directions and as fast as I can I pick up everything around the apartment. I’m glad I power cleaned the other day so it’s not too bad. Josie isn’t home, so I shut her bedroom door. Her mess is solved. He doesn’t need to look in there. I doubt he cares what my apartment looks like, but I still don’t want a huge mess. A good first impression is important.

  I rush into the bathroom to run a comb through my hair and my eyes gravitate toward the Tampax sitting on the counter. “Shit!” I grab the box and shove it into a drawer, giving my teeth a quick check in the mirror. No food in between them. Whew. The humiliation would have killed me. I race my toothbrush across my teeth anyway and swoosh some mouthwash just in case. I don’t know how far things will go tonight but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to a heavy make-out session.

  My buzzer rings. Oh God, he’s here. I glance down at my legs and realize I’m running around in my tank and underwear. After my bath I planned on going to bed so I didn’t toss anything else on. I race to my room and slide on a pair of gym shorts. Once I gather myself and the buzzer rings a second time I start to run but switch my pace to a calm walk to the door.

  “Come on up.” I press the button to unlock the door downstairs. Should I leave the door my open and sit down on the couch? Or lean across the doorway? Or do I leave the door shut and stand here waiting until he knocks?

  Before I can come up with a final decision, Ed knocks on my door. I clench my fists open and shut in nervous excitement and open the door. “Hey!” I squeal with a little bit too much excitement. Great. He probably thinks I’m some sort of immature schoolgirl.

  “I brought some wine. I hope that’s okay.”

  “No. I love wine.” In all truthfulness, while I like wine, I’m not a connoisseur or anything. I don’t even know if the brand he bought is good or if it’s some cheap three dollar bottle he purchased at Piggly Wiggly. “I’m sorry. Come on in.” I invite him in after a few moments of awkward staring.

  He steps into the apartment and waits for me to shut the door. I’m not sure where to go from here. I intertwine my fingers together, and they fall in front of my lap. What now? “I can get some wine glasses if you want to sit down.” I think I said that all in one breath.

  “That sounds great.” Ed hands me the wine and sits on my couch.

  Ed is sitting on my couch. I can’t believe he’s sitting on my couch. Just a few hours ago he was kissing me on top of the tower and now he’s in my apartment on my couch.

  I set the wine bottle on my kitchen counter. I know I have wine glasses somewhere. My search takes longer than it should but I finally find two. I wipe them out and set them aside as I search for a corkscrew. The silverware in the drawers clank together as I slam the drawers shut. When I finally find one I stare at it wondering why I even have it. The few times my friends and I drank wine, we’d purchased the kind with a screw cap. “Ed? I’m a little embarrassed, but could you possibly open this for me? I’ve never used one of these before.”

  “Sure thing.” He comes in and takes the corkscrew from my hand not being careful to avoid touching me. I tingle inside. “I can’t believe you’ve never open a wine bottle before.”

  “I’m usually ordering glasses at the club. I rarely keep my own wine in the apartment.”

  “Do you go clubbing often?” The bottle pops open, and he pours a glass for each of us. The glass is about half full, and I want to take the bottle and pour mine to the top.

  Is there a right answer? If I admit to going almost every weekend to some sort of club will he think I party too much? I haven’t gone back to the club after the incident at Vogue. Does this mean I’m telling the truth if I say not often?

  “Do you need some time to think about it?” He hands me a glass, still half full. I’m about to toss this down the hatch as quickly as possible.

  “No, not at all. I guess it depends what you consider often. My coworker, Hannah, and I usually go to the bar or a club every Friday. And we might hit up a party or two on a Saturday. I don’t think that’s too often. When I think of someone who goes a lot, I think of people who go out every single night. And if I have to work the next day, I try not to stay out too late or I can control myself and stay home.” I lead him out of the kitchen because I’d rather be sitting next to him on the couch than standing in the kitchen.

  I want him to sit down first so I can place myself next to him, but he’s waiting for me to make a move. I settle in and pat the spot next to me. Ed takes the hint and sits next to me. I wish he were closer but our knees are almost touching and the piney scent of his cologne is near.

  “I’m glad you texted me.” He clears his throat and then takes a sip from his glass.

  “Me too.” That sounds weird, doesn’t it? “I mean, I’m happy you responded.”

  “Today was fun. I hope you liked the walk.”

  “I did.” Breathe. Breathe. One. Two. Three. “Especially on the tower.” I snap my glass to my lips so I can drink before he spots me blushing. “So no plans tonight, huh?” I move past the awkward moment I just created.

  “After I got home, I ate some dinner and then I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.”

  I can think of something to do with him right now, but I brush the thought aside. “I can think of no better way to spend this evening than hanging out with you.”

  I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve never been very shy but I don’t typically find myself saying things like this. I’m comfortable in his presence. The way his eyes soften when he speaks to me is soothing, and his voice is tender and without judgement. This is only the third time we’ve been together, but the pieces fit. We’re like a completed puzzle. He’s what I’ve been searching for.

  “Now that we’ve established neither of us had plans tonight and we enjoy each other’s company, what do you do when you’re at home?”

  This should be a fairly easy question, however I find myself racking my brain trying to think of anything besides binging on Netflix shows and chick lit movies or experimenting with makeup. Neither comes across as something Ed would find appealing. “I’m honestly not home that often. I work full-time, and when I’m not working, I’m either volunteering at the Humane Society, or I’m hanging out with my best friend, Hannah.”

  “Tell me about Hannah, then.”

  “Hannah?” Taking an interest in my friends is a positive sign. He wants to know more about my life. “Hannah’s quite a hoot. She’s loud, rambunctious, and ambitious. She was with me that night at the club.”

  “That night?”

  “Yeah. I’m trying to forget about it, too. I wish it were as easy for me.” I finish my glass of wine. “Would you like another one?”

  He chugs down the rest of his. “Hit me.”

  I pour another glass for us each. We drink and laugh, and he doesn’t back away when I touch his knee. I could talk with him all night, but that won’t get me where I want to be with him. Time for a new approach.

  “Would you be interested in playing a game?”

  Ed raises his eyebrows, and I’ve got his attention. His glass is empty, and he sets it next to the wine bottle. “What kind of game?”r />
  I pull my legs to the couch to get more comfortable. “May I interest you in a rousing game of Uno? I’m not sure I have much else.”

  “Uno, huh? I always seem to get my ass kicked when I play that game, but it’s against a five-year-old.”

  “Well then, prepare to be annihilated.” I retrieve the game from the closet. I don’t think I’ve played Uno since college (and then it was a drinking game), but I’m sure I could kick Ed’s butt.

  We play three games, and he beats me every single time. I don’t care. We’re having a great time, and that’s all that matters to me. We finish up our last game and our bottle of wine is empty. I stack up the cards, and put them back in the container, and toss them onto the table.

  “I guess I need to practice my card skills.” I scoot back on the couch and lean into the arm.

  Ed moves a little closer to me. “I think you play rather well. You didn’t yell or scream or throw anything so I call that a plus.”

  “I can’t believe it’s already almost midnight.”

  “Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want to kiss a pumpkin.” He places his hand on my knee and slowly moves it up my thigh. I allow myself to breathe as he leans in and touches my lips. I move to the center of the couch and push my legs out as he crawls on top of me. This is really happening. He’s kissing me. I wrap my arms around him, and our hips are pressed together. I can definitely tell he’s happy to be here with me. He moves away from my lips and tickles my neck with his kisses. My hands move away from his back, and I’m caressing his head with my hands, his thick hair running through my fingers.

  I love this. I don’t know how far I want it to go. Right now, I’m enjoying this moment. My insides are tingling everywhere and I want to rip his shirt off. His hand moves to the hem of my shirt, and I gasp as he leads them under. When his hand cups my breast, it’s warm, and he pinches my nipple with his finger. “Oooh,” I groan.

  He moves back to kissing me on the mouth, harder this time. I can taste the wine on his tongue. Could this be the night? Let’s see. We’ve been on only two dates. Well, is this technically the third? Two in one day? It’s okay to go all the way, right? I’m on the pill, but I don’t have any condoms. I hope he does. How do I slip this into the conversation? His hands move off my breasts and to the button of my jeans. His thumb has a hold of it and he’s about to unbutton it. Oh God, this is real.

  “Dun Dun Dun Dunnn Dunnn Dunnnnnnn.” Why in the hell am I hearing the Star Wars theme?

  Ed jumps off me. “Sorry. That’s my phone.”

  “Can it wait?” I mean, come on, my dry spell was about to end and with him. I don’t want any interruptions. This is typical. Leave it to fate to throw a wrench in this.

  He plants a quick kiss on my lips. “Unfortunately, no. It could be something with the café. I can’t ignore it, as much as I want to.”

  Damnit. I fix my hair and straighten my shirt as he checks his phone. “It’s my mom.”

  Oh. Great. His mother interrupted us. We might as well be in high school, and she walked in on us making out. I feel dirty now, even though we’re far from high school and she can’t even see us.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  He’s smiling at me and rubbing his hand on his stomach. His shirt lifts slightly and I catch a glimpse of a six pack. A tan one. A hairless one. This is so ironic considering the amount that covers his face and head. I smile back, hoping he hurries on the phone, and we can really get things moving.

  His smile drops. “What hospital?” He paces the room. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  I sit up, knowing what’s coming and feeling like an asshole for getting upset she interrupted our near sex romp.

  “Is everything okay?” Obviously the answer is no, but isn’t that what you’re supposed to ask?

  “My dad is in the hospital. I have to go see him.”

  “I understand. Do you want me to go with you?”

  That’s a girlfriend thing to do. I’m not his girlfriend. We’re only dating. This could end at any moment. I don’t want it to, though. Where is this going? I shouldn’t think about this right now. Ugh. I’m more confused than ever.

  “As much as I’d love for you to meet my parents, not under these circumstances. Thank you so much for offering to come. That means a lot.” I stand, and he wraps his arms around me. My face is buried in his chest, his heart beating hard. “A lot.”

  “Okay. Call me, and let me know how things are.”

  “I’ll call as soon as I can. I promise.” I’m disappointed but understand when he gives me a peck on the cheek instead of a kiss on the lips. I’d be anxious to leave and get to the hospital, too. “I’m sorry.”

  Me, too. In more ways than one.

  Chapter Eight

  Are women capable of blue balls? If so, I have them. Ed left me high and dry, and I needed to finish the job myself. I didn’t hear from him the rest of the night or this morning, and I don’t know if I should call or text to find out how his dad is doing. I expected something, I guess. Even a quick message to check in.

  Before work, I stop off at the coffee shop, and Leann has my drink ready. She skips any small talk with me and doesn’t seem quite herself. I catch a glimpse of Ed, but either he doesn’t see me or chooses not to acknowledge me. My conclusions jump from place to place as I try to shake off the embarrassment. Less than twelve hours ago, he was on my couch with me ready to have sex. Now, he doesn’t even offer a wave. Is this what a walk of shame feels like? Can it be considered one if we didn’t have sex?

  Hannah is far from different, bursting at the seams with her bubbly self when I arrive. We set up our stations as I listen to her babble on and on about her night. I’ll wait for the perfect time to tell her about what happened—or didn’t happen, for that matter—with Ed last night. I could use her advice.

  “I was so bored last night. I painted my nails while watching Fuller House on Netflix. I ended up watching the entire season.”

  Hannah gives me her hand as though she’s the queen and I’m supposed to kiss it. She decided on a lovely shade of purple and added a glitter topcoat. I’m not a fan of glitter, but Hannah always goes all out. And it looks great. If I put glitter on my nails, or any part of my body, I’d come off as a teenager. Been there, done that. No, thank you.

  “So what did you do last night?” I twitch when she snaps her gum. She better hope our boss doesn’t catch her. Gum on the sales floor is a huge no-no.

  I don’t answer right away. I need a minute to gather my thoughts and figure out how I’m going to say this. She’s in the middle of straightening boxes of eyeliner when I respond. “Ed came over.”

  She knocks a box over and fumbles to pick it back up, dropping more in the meantime. “What? He came over? You went on a date and ended back at your place?”

  “Not exactly. We shared this amazing kiss and went our separate ways. We were texting later on, and he asked to come over.”

  “Whoa.” She eyeballs her display once it’s all set up again. She determines it’s back to perfect, then raises her brow at me. “He invited himself over? So, what, are things getting serious between you two?”

  “I’m not quite sure. We’ve only been on a few dates.”

  “It only takes a few.”

  She doesn’t think I’ve thought about that? I’m running on maybe five hours of sleep because I spent the entire night tossing and turning running the scenarios in my head. “Well, things were, kind of, left up in the air. We played Uno—”

  “You what?”

  “Yeah, you heard that right. We played a game of Uno.”

  Both brows are raised now, and her eyes are making fun of me.

  “We had fun. So don’t knock it. Besides, it led to some pretty heavy kissing. We were on the couch, clothes were about to come off, and—”

  “And what! Tell me!”

  “His mom called.”

  “Ouch.
Tough break.”

  “It gets worse.”

  She shuts the door to her display case and leans against the counter. “How can it possibly get worse than that?”

  “She called because his dad is in the hospital.”

  Her hand meets her mouth. “That’s horrible! Why is he in the hospital? Is he okay?”

  I want to bite my nails more than ever. It’s been a few weeks, and I have actual nail growth. I can’t cave now. “I have no idea. I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Whitney! Why haven’t you called him, or at least sent a text?”

  “It seems inappropriate.”

  “How is it inappropriate?” Her arms are crossed, and she’s tapping her foot on the ground.

  How can I explain this to someone who often talks before she thinks? If Hannah likes a guy, she’ll tell him straight out. She’ll call, text, show up at his house. She doesn’t care. None of that is off limits to her. “I don’t know my obligation. We’re only dating. I’m not his girlfriend. And I don’t want to overstep and ruin things.”

  She shakes her head at me. “Sending a message to find out if he’s okay and how his dad is doing is definitely not overstepping any boundaries. It’s called being a decent human being and caring.”

  “Listen to you, sounding like a Care Bear. I shall name you Tenderheart.”

  “Whit, I’m being serious. Call him. Text him at the very least.”

  I blow the air out of my lungs as I pinch the bridge of my nose. I like Ed. I really like him. The last thing I want to do is be pushy. But, I know she’s right. “I’ll text him in a bit.”

  “No. Do it now.”

  “I can’t now. I’m working.”

  “Like that ever stops me.” She scoops forward and snatches my phone out of my apron. I didn’t think she ever saw me put it there. “Here.”

  My hands shake as I take the phone from her. What’s the worst he can say? “Fine.” I open the Messages app and type up a quick note to tell him I’m thinking about him, and I hope everything is okay.