So it is that a Leo will even put friendship on the line to satisfy a long-smoldering lust.
He beckons through the curtain, finger curling toward him and a glimmer of a smile on his face. I smile back. I know this little game. We're bravest when we're surrounded, when there are no possibilities. We banter, we flirt, we make unspoken promises we never keep.
Get us alone, and it's all propriety and friendly chit-chat...
"What's up?" he asks, and I sense the rules are changing. There is an inflection, a certain posture...an inability to hold my gaze.
He's testing the waters.
Who am I seeing. Who am I with...?
"Why do you care? You're the one who runs away every time there's an actual opportunity..." I tease.
"When?!" His indignation is charming. "Well...I'm kind of scared" he admits.
"Of what? Of me? I'm harmless!" I know I am lying, know I am guilty even as I plead innocence.
I stretch and smile, prepare for the game of cat and mouse.
Something tells me each of us thinks we're the cat.
He is afraid of getting physically involved. Afraid he will like it.
"You're like the forbidden fruit"
We are in his car now, away from the crowd and the noise, and I think this is where he'll turn tail and scurry back to safety.
I can wait out this little mouse.
I watch him intently and he asks what I'm thinking as he looks at the dashboard.
Hey! That's my line!
"I'm thinking that I'd like to make out with you, actually" And he calls my bluff. He cups my face as he kisses me. It is sweet and thrilling, new yet familiar, and awkward as only a kiss in a car can be. I start to feel a little breathless, being this close to him---those are his soft lips, that's his playful tongue, that's his hand on my face...and I can hardly believe it.
"See?...harmless!" I say as I pull away and pull myself together.
He lets out a chuckle that says he disagrees.
We're each waiting for the other to back out, we're children locked in a match of dares and double-dares.
"I kinda wanna get outta here" he says.
I dare you.
"Me too. My place is closer"
I double-dog-dare you.
"I know" he says with a nervous chuckle. I don't play fair. I've upped the stakes.
I wonder if he's still scared of me. He is, but all he'll give by way of answer is a helpless:
"Because you're...you're you..."
"Is it the blog?". No. Maybe. Probably.
"If you're gonna blog about me, I want a cool nickname..."
"Oh yeah? Like what?" I ask him as we drive along.
"Like...Rex! I wanna be known as Rex. I wanna be a loner... I wanna be dangerous...!"
The tipsy giggle that punctuates his speech ruins the effect. In my mind, all I can hear is "I'm a loner, Dottie, a rebel..." and I giggle too.
I am sure he will leave me at my doorstep, but he is following me up the stairs.
The way he smells, the way his skin feels, the way his hands feel on my skin...it all makes me dizzy. And it's too late now to retreat. We're past dares and double-dares. Now it's lips and tongues and warm skin, lust and just the slightest hint of regret already lurking in the corner.
I wonder briefly if this will change the easy affection we share, and then he shifts beneath me, bringing me back. I pull him over on top of me, wanting to feel his weight. I want something other than the weight of my thoughts to anchor me.
I watch him sleep, afraid to touch him, watching the morning light play...now on his face, now on his shoulder as he tosses fitfully. Through paper-thin walls I hear my neighbors having a morning romp and I start to get ideas of my own.
He is so sweet when he wakes. Boyish. He's feeling the late hours and the drinks he had.
He'd lay in bed with me all day, he says, if only he didn't have things to do.
He kisses and hugs me goodbye, mumbling apologies, leaving me to my thoughts.
I wonder if it's just him. I wonder if it's just me...
I have a friend who has tried to convince me that while I blog, I will be incapable of maintaining a romantic relationship, or even any sort of "friendly understanding" with anyone.
I was having perfectly dysfunctional relationships before blogs even existed, thank you very much!
I do wonder, though.
Some people fear my blog, fear saying or doing something embarrassing in my presence that might end up public knowledge. Men worry about being inadequate lovers, about being too normal or "vanilla" to hold my interest. Worse yet, some of them, I fear, just want the CoatCheck Girl experience, the fantasy, the seduction.
It's way too much work--- I want to be swept off my feet for once.