Breaking you (on hold)

1 - The nature of the game

His lips are hot on my neck, breathing and tasting every inch of my skin. His hands tremble under the hem of my shirt, touching and exploring. Daring to see how far he can go.

I can't help it. My mind starts to wander.

I think about the music, how it's quieter here upstairs than down at the party. There are a handful of muffled voices on the other side of the bedroom door.

I can particularly hear three voices—a girl talking to two guys. I don't recognize who they belong to, yet there is a familiarity about the way the girl talks. I don't know her, but I know that tone.

The teasing. The flirting.

She is playing the game and by the sounds of it, she is hoping to catch both of her suitors.

My mind plummets back to the dark room I'm in when a hand tries to work the clasp on my bra.

"Wait," I breathe.

Jordan unattaches his lips from my neck and glances up at me. The party lights by the outdoor pool reflect all the way up here, through the shut blinds, and I can see the yellow and turquoise lights dance in his dark brown eyes and on the dark, smooth skin of his chest.

"Everything okay?" he asks. His voice is all breath and no composure.

"Totally. I just think we should slow down a bit."

As soon as I've said the words, he smiles. There is nothing unpleasant about it, but it sends my stomach into a pit of knots.

Because I know what's coming. It's what always comes eventually.

Jordan looks down at my disheveled shirt and gives it a tug. It falls obediently back into place, making me look presentable once again.

"I'm actually glad you said that," he whispers. Possibly too afraid to fully voice what was coming next. "Because I've been thinking about you a lot. About you and me, I mean."

I swallow.

He flashes his white teeth in a large smile, a smile that usually has me melting on the spot, but not anymore. All I can think is that his teeth look radioactive in the dark room.

"How about I take you out on a real date?" Jordan asks. "You and me, dinner at Caesar's Friday night?"

My hands start moving on their own. They are around his neck and I pull his face up to mine. 

"I'm busy," I say and kiss him hard. Not in a passionate way. It's a stoic motion, where I press against his lips and cling to his mouth for dear life.

Jordan inevitably pulls away.

"Saturday then?" he asks.

I start to lean in for another kiss but he stops me. His hands grab my arms. He holds me, quite literally, at an arm's length.

"You're really making me work for it, Paula. Let's just go out. It'll be a good time, I promise."

I shrug, steeling myself. "Sorry, I'm not interested."

"What are you playing at?" His dark eyes search mine. "If you don't want to have casual sex, that's fine. But if you don't want to date either, then what do you want?"

I hear a loud splash from the pool in the backyard and my eyes drift to the window across Jordan's bedroom. The splash is followed by cheerful hollering and I desperately wish I was there instead of here.

"Well?" he insists.

"This isn't gonna work out."

"Come on, Paula. Don't be like that."