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could react, gave me a deep, passionate kiss.
Slowly, I relaxed as her tongue entered my mouth. Her hands framed my face.
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. Her kiss was both hard and gentle at the same time. I could feel the desire radiating from her, yet her touch wasnt rough or overpowering like a mans.
McKayla was all woman. She was very feminine but at the same time not girly.
She pulled back enough to let me breathe, then nibbled softly on my lower lip.
Her hands brushed the hair out of my face.
"Ive been waiting all week for that," she whispered.
"Me, too." My voice was barely audible.
No matter what I told my arms or feet or hands to do, I couldnt move. All I could do was stand there in her arms, trying to remember to breathe.
We gazed into each others eyes for an eternity. Her big brown orbs were hypnotic and smoldered with lust and passion.
Finally, she let me go. I tried not to let out a disappointed sigh.
I took her hand and led her out to my car.
We made some small talk on the way to the restaurant. She had just landed a couple of new accounts at work and was very excited. I was just happy that my boss hadnt chewed on me the day before when a whole pallet of liquor had turned up missing (no one at work had actually stolen anything—this time—the new inventory system screwed up all on its own).
We were seated at a private corner table. The lights were low and the food was excellent. McKayla ordered a braised chicken and I had the stuffed duck in a white wine sauce. We talked for a while about little things.
"Amberle," she said right after we were done with our salads, her voice nervous. "Are you . . . I mean . . . do I . . . aw, shit, Im going to fuck this up, too . . ."
"Fuck what up?" I asked after a moment.
She took a deep breath. "Do I have a shot at being more than just a friend?"
I looked into her eyes. "Ive been wondering that myself. . . . Listen . . . This is all very new for me . . ."
Her hand reached across the table. I took it.
"Im not good at relationships," McKayla said quietly. "All the ones Im in usually end badly."
For a second, I was tempted to say something, but I could see that she was searching for just the right words.
After a false start or two, she began to speak, her voice hushed. "I dont like commitment. I dont like feeling like Im tied down. Maybe its because I spent so much time . . . wondering if I was normal . . . worrying about rejection or people not accepting me because of who I am . . . I wish I could explain it."
Very gently, I took her hand in both of mine and gave her
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a reassuring look. "Im just the opposite. I fall in love quickly. I like being in relationships. Theyre safe and secure . . . or at least I like to think they are. Sometimes I put up with someones shit for too long just because I dont want to be lonely. Ive been trying out this single thing, but Im not sure I really like it."
We were silent for a second. She looked away for a second and chuckled to herself. "Were quite a pair, arent we?"
I smiled back. My mind flashed back to my last couple of boyfriends.
"Sometimes, I think I like the idea of being in love more than I like the person Im with," I whispered.
"I like the idea of being in love, too . . . I think Im too chickenshit to do it, though." McKayla gave me a rueful smile. "You know that girl we saw the other night? . . . Vicki . . . Shes my usual pattern. We met at a club, hooked up and then went out a few times. Then I started making excuses not to see her."
As her voice trailed off, I felt that little twinge of jealousy in my stomach again. "Why?"
McKayla looked away. "I dont know . . . I think a part of me likes the one night stands . . . I cant get hurt that way."
"Im not the one night stand type," I said, my voice hardening unconsciously.
"Youve never had a one-night stand?"
I just shook my head. That wasnt quite true, but I wasnt about to tell her that. Not then.
She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Look at me . . . Im a mess."
"Youre a beautiful mess," I said softly.
McKayla shot me an appreciative, yet mischievous, smile. "And youre full of shit."
We both took a quick drink, both to avoid having to say anything and to wet our dry mouths.
"Why did you ask me out?" she asked me for the second time.
"Because youre . . . I dont know," I stammered. "Because it seemed right."
"I dont want to break your heart," McKayla warned.
"You dont want to break my heart or you dont want your own broken?"
I could tell a flippant retort was on her lips, but she stopped. I think the words stung her because they hit a little too close to home.
"McKayla," I began. I waited until she had looked up into my eyes. "I dont know what came over me. A part of me thinks that Ive gone off the deep end. Ive never been attracted to another woman, but when I look at you . . . all I can think is that Ive got to be with you."
"I want that, too." I could barely hear her.
Whatever she was going to say next was cut off by the servers bringing our dinner. We waited until everything was on the table and we were alone again.
"You know," she said, "Youre the first
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