Kissed by Ms. Carla Krae

been, she came face-to-face.   He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
    “Now,
where were we?”   He closed in on her lips
again.   Like a dog with a bone!
    She
moved her head back.   “Someone might see
us.”
    He
grinned and said, “So we find a more private room. House is huge, in case you
didn’t notice.”
    She
broke his hold.   “I’m not like those
groupies.”   The girls he was used to
might like private corners or dark hallways, but that wasn’t her.
    His
eyebrows rose.   “What groupies ?”
    “The
girls ready to have your babies at the concert. Don’t tell me you’re oblivious
to the attention!”
    “We
have fans, but what does that have to do with—”
    “ Ugh . Men .”   She stormed out of the kitchen.   With any luck, she’d reach the stairs before
he recovered.
    “ Will you stop running away from me, woman? ”   He grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop.   “What the hell is your problem?”
    “You
and your Y chromosome are my problem! Let me go.”
    “No.
You’ll just run off.”
    “My prerogative. Asshole.”
    He
brushed her hair off her face with his left hand.   The touch of his fingers on her scalp gave
her tingles.   “Afraid
to be alone with me?”
    Yes .   She stuck her chin out, fronting.   “Why should I be?”
    His
thumb caressed her cheekbone, his fingers resting on her neck.   “You tell me.”   His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips
and back again.  
    “You
have a reputation.”
    “Do
I?” he said, amused at the notion.
    “Well,
your mother has suspicions.”
    He
chuckled at that.   “My mother has an
over-active imagination about what I don’t share.”
    “Can
you blame her? Your career goal is Rock Star.”
    He
frowned.   “What’s wrong with that?”
    “Potentially nothing. And potentially
everything. Say you get famous—what will you do with all the attention?
Where will we fit? Who will you know to trust when everyone wants a piece of
you? How will you find privacy?”
    “Been
reading tabloids?”
    She
sighed, not wanting another argument.   “No. There are people who want you to succeed and worry about it at the
same time. I know you’re having fun right now…”
    They
stood apart.
    “You
think this is a ‘bit of fun’?”
    “Well, yeah . Isn’t it?”
    “Beth,
you’re not a fling.”
    “Yeah, not yet. And I never would’ve kissed you last night
if I was sober. I can’t just fool around with you and go home. I won’t.”
    “So,
what, we pretend it didn’t happen?”   He
stepped to her and cupped her cheeks in his hands.   “I can’t do that.”
    “Why not ?”
    He
opened his mouth to reply, and paused, searching for the right answer.
    She
pulled away.   “Yeah… exactly . You come up with a good
answer, then we can talk.”  
    Before
he could see her cry, she fled to her room.  
    The
bike started up outside after a few minutes.   She went to the window and watched him ride away.
    You just had to come to England .   Had to see Jacob .   How’s that goin’ for ya?  
    Bite me.
    Pretty hard to accomplish that, considering
I’m your mind .
    Figure of speech.   Go
away.
    You’re really going to throw away that much
gorgeous just because he’s not in love with you?
    I have standards .
    Oh, come on!   Do you really want your first time to be with some college nerd instead
of your hot best friend?   Take advantage
of an opportunity here!
    Since when is my subconscious such a slut?
    Since she got a taste of what you’ve been
dreaming about for four years.   Ain’t my fault you couldn’t crush on more than one guy at a time.
    Oh, shut up.
    Debating
with her Id wasn’t going to do any good.   Since she didn’t know when Mrs. Lindsey would be back, she set the alarm
for a half-hour nap.
    Someone
knocked on her door while she was dressing after her shower.
    “Come
in.”  
    The
door opened.   “Nice legs.”   Male voice.
    She froze, sunscreen half-rubbed into her skin.