Page 13 of Starry Night Kisses

Creepy? Nooot exactly.

Stalkerish? Perhaps a little.

But by the time New Years rolled around, I wasalready head over heels for the woman. It’s why I told her I didn’t mind being friends first, because I’d already concocted multiple versions of a plan in my head that ended with her and I in a relationship.

Then she kissed me…and it was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Mere minutes later it was like she wanted to pretend it never happened. She’s been hot and cold for weeks, so I thought giving her a little space was a good idea. Even though the only thing I’ve been wanting to do is hop the first flight home, barge into her place, and bury myself deep inside that perfect hourglass figure of hers.

After we sexted, it wasmewho backed off to see how she’d react. Unfortunately for me, she’d seemed perfectly fine with it. Like she just needed a release and I happened to message her at the right time.

Maybe that’s really all she’s after—a physical connection. I’m more than happy to give her that, and sheshouldknow that. Sowhyis she out with another man?

Because perhaps she needs to be shown what she wants.

Or maybe you need to claim her how you want to and leave no doubt in her mind of your feelings.

My gaze strays to their table once more, and the smile on her face while the man across from her speaks animatedly is enough to turn my vision red.

I have to return to New York once dinner is over, but there’s a little time before I need to be at the airport. A little time is all I need. Especially if I starttexting her as soon as I leave the restaurant. I’ll occupy the rest of her time so that she, hopefully, calls it a night and doesn’t go home with that fucking dumbass.

I’m done waiting, Evelyn. Tonight, you’re finally mine.

evie

The rest of dinner goes better than I expect it to. Nate chases away the awkwardness with stories of his YouTube channel, where he recounts true crime tales, and even asks if I want to get dessert to take home when it comes time to wrap things up.

He still pays for dinner, joking about giving me a bigger tip than the waiter, before telling me, “If you like the guy, just tell him. Because from the way he was watching you all night, it seems like he’s pretty into you. I don’t know if it’s because you’re not looking for anything serious, or what, but just remember, anything casual always has the potential to turn into lifelong.”

“That’s oddly…profound, Nate. Thank you,” I tell him as he walks me to my car.

“Hey, I’m like an onion. I have layers.” He pulls me into a hug like we’ve been friends for years. “Take it easy, Evie. And if you end up not hooking up with him, give me a call.” He winks before strolling away and getting into a Tesla a few rows down.

As soon as I turn out of the parking lot, a text comes through from Eric, and I have my phone read it through the car's speakers.

You know, you said you weren’t ready, so I didn’t want to push you. But if you wanted to date around, you could have just been honest and not strung me along.

Irrational anger ignites from the tips of my fingers down to my toes. Using speech to text I reply.

I’m not stringing you along! You’re the one who’s never here, Eric. You’ve been gone longer than you’ve been here in town. We’ve spent more time on the phone than in person.

Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who kissed me on New Years? I told you I was a patient man, Evie, but excuse me if I won’t wait on the sidelines while another guy ‘will enjoy peeling your dress off later’.

My job is demanding, and I do apologize for that. But again, sometimes you seem like you want more, and other times you seem like you’re content with being friends.

“Arrghhhh!” I scream into the air in frustration.

I’m well aware that arguing over text when it has to be read by a robotic woman’s voice drains some of the seriousness from the tone of the fight. Still, I continue to parry his statements with jabs of my own.

Yeah, I took second place to a job once, I won’t do it again. No, thank you.

And yes, I did kiss you, and then I panicked, okay? And yes, you’ve been a perfect gentleman, until the night where you insinuated you wanted to eat my pussy for dessert, commanded me to finger bang myself, and then pretended like it didn’t happen.

But you’re right. I’m the one who’s being confusing.

Pulling into my complex’s parking lot, I swing my car into its space with enough skid to make a drifter proud. I huff past the concierge, jamming my finger into the button for the elevator. My muscles strain with anger and pent-up sexual exasperation so thick it coats my skin like a layer of perspiration.

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