“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m really fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. “We don’t have to do anything. Tonight’s been great already, so if you’re not up for—”
“No,” I tell her. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
“Okay,” she smiles and she leans back in, kissing me.
She leans back just enough to get her shirt off, and she pulls mine off while she’s at it.
Skin to skin now, she’s pressing herself into me, and her warmth reminds me of Leila.
Okay, I’ve got to just push through this. It’s understandable that I’d be a little hung up right now, but it’s over with Leila. She won’t even answer my calls.
“Okay, seriously,” Wrigley says.
“What?” I ask. “I didn’t do anything that time.”
“I’ve been trying to put your hands on me, but you keep pulling them away. Obviously, you’re not into this, so maybe I should just go.”
“No,” I tell her. “Really, I’m fine. I think I’m just a little out of it, but I definitely want to do this.”
“You’re sure?” she asks. “This isn’t one of those high-pressure situations where you tell me you’re not down to fuck and I have a conniption fit.”
“I promise,” I tell her, “I’m fine.”
“All right,” she says, and she’s kissing me again.
I’ve got to keep my mind focused here. I don’t know what’s with me, but the more Wrigley and I touch, the more I hear her breathe, the more I feel the soft warmth of her skin, the more I’m picturing Leila, and the more I just want to break down and cry.
Wrigley’s hand makes its way down my chest and settles on my upper thigh.
My head’s in the game now, and I’m holding her close while she reaches up and undoes my pants with one hand.
At least one of us still has game.
Pants open now, she reaches in, and nothing.
“Okay, you’ve got to tell me what the fuck is going on,” she says. “I’ve seen you a lot drunker than this, and you’ve always been hard and ready to go.”
“I’m just nervous,” I tell her. “It’s been a while since you and I have been together like this.”
“Nothing’s happening, Dane,” she says. “What the fuck? You’re not even sporting a halfie.”
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, palms over my eyes. “I don’t know,” I tell her. “I just can’t do it. It’s not you, I promise you that. I’m just in my fucking head and I can’t get out of it. I can’t let go and just let this happen.”
I’m waiting for a response, but none comes.
After all her time and effort, stalkerish though it may have been, she can’t be very happy with me right now.
“Fuck!” I grunt and pull my hands away from my eyes, but Wrigley’s just sitting next to me with a smile on her face.
“I knew it,” she says. “You really are in love with her, aren’t you?”
“What?” I ask. “No, I thought I was, but how can I be in love with someone who just—”
“You can’t help who you fall in love with,” she says. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“I thought this was what you wanted: you and I getting back to where we were before Leila and I—”