Dancing With the Devil

Chapter 1

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My mouth tipped up into a goofy smile as Jake, my boyfriend, kissed me again. As he pulled away, I reached up to pull his mouth back to mine, ignoring his surprised expression. I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity if he was willing to offer it.

Internally, I wanted him to be the one to initiate our affection. Most of the time, I was stuck encouraging him to do anything more than hug, and that was always brief and at a safe distance, meaning no body contact that wasn’t necessary. Sometimes, I wondered why he was attracted to someone like me--although quiet, I also wasn’t shy to show my fondness--but he shot me down every time I tried to approach the obviously touchy subject.

Something had changed today, though. He wasn’t shutting me out like usual, and his arms wrapped around my waist loosely, not pulling me closer, but not pushing me away either. I seized his openness, pushing closer to him than I usually would. My fingers buried into his carefully styled hair, which I would no doubt get a speech about later. For now, I wasn’t complaining. Our lips moved slowly, cautiously, and while I wasn’t entirely jumping for joy, I couldn’t say that I didn’t like it. It was more than I was expecting, and for that I was ecstatic.

“Ivy, calm down,” he chided when my lips unconsciously opened.

I clamped them close, feeling embarrassment wash over me and making me flush down to my toes. He gave a short laugh, continuing to pepper kisses on my cheeks and forehead. I leaned into him, but his warning pause made me pull back. Our involved moment was obviously over. Unfortunately, I wasn’t one to give up so easily.

I tilted my head back invitingly, wanting him to rain little brushes of his lips down my neck like a lover would instead of pecking areas that he deemed “safe”, something my dad used to do before he died. He was a veteran, and ended up getting killed in combat in Iraq. I was still fairly young, around six, so I didn’t burst into tears whenever I thought of him like I used to. It still hurt, obviously, but after twelve years, I had achieved acceptance of his fate and honored his sacrifice rather than violently raging on the unfair world. At least, on the outside I made sure to appear at peace. There were times when I would cry on the inside at the sight of little girls hugging their daddies or wonder who would walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. I knew I couldn’t change it, though, so I toughened up and ignored it.

Jake looked at me confusingly, not understanding my hint. I tugged his head down, forcing his face to hover above my skin, his warm breath teasing it.

“Ivy, you know how I feel about that,” he sighed, pulling back once he’d caught on.

“Jake, I didn’t mean you had to-”

“Forget it.” My shoulders sagged at his final tone.

“I know you don’t like hickies,” I explained. “I just wanted you to kiss me.”

“Wasn’t I kissing you enough?”

“On my face, yeah. I guess.”

“You guess?”

This was one of those times when I wondered why we put up with each other if we had such contrasting views.

“It’s fine,” I responded, giving him a completely fake, toothy smile. He beamed back.

“Good. I don’t want us to fight. I hate to see you upset.” He swooped in to lay one more kiss on my cheek, and I waited for it like the patient girl he envisioned me as.

“Get off my best friend, you big oaf!”

I never got that kiss, thanks now to my best friend, Violet.