I Spun the Bottle

I Spun the Bottle: Chapter Twenty-Two

I Spun the Bottle: Chapter Twenty-Two

Song for this chapter: “Ships in the Night” by Matt Kearney

          My fingers were still pressed lightly against my lips. My non-virgin lips. I didn’t know why I was taking this in as such a shock. Maybe it was because I didn’t think I would kiss Jace. Or maybe it was because I thought I’d have my first kiss with…the guy in front of me. Whatever the reason, I was still stunned.

          My face felt hot. And I still had the lingering sparks from our kiss tingling all over my body. If David hadn’t spoken up, I would have completely forgotten he was here.

          “You what?” he inquired. The look on his face was hard and unreadable.

          With some effort, I was able to clear my mind from the earlier incident enough to pay attention to him. “I…it’s nothing,” I lied, terribly. It was definitely something. It was quiet for what seemed like forever, but finally I broke the silence. “I better get going. I have a lot of homework to do…and stuff.”

          Just as I passed David, I let out a small sigh, and then I felt a hand clasp around my wrist, holding me back.

          “Wait,” David said, but it almost sounded like he was begging me.

          I turned back around, staring at him questioningly. Maybe I should’ve been embarrassed that he was touching me, but I honestly thought my emotions were running a little haywire. I watched him curiously. His eyes were clouded like he was thinking…or maybe he was feeling something. I couldn’t quite tell.

           The grip he had around my wrist was strong, but at the same time soft, almost fragile. “What do you want?” I asked. My tone sounded snappier than I ever meant to be.

          It almost seemed like his eyes were searching mine, looking for a sign. Maybe he wanted to believe what I said wasn’t true. I didn’t know. And honestly…my words were absolutely true.

          He sighed, retracting his hand from my wrist. “Nothing…I just wanted to know if you needed a ride home.”

          I began to shake my head, but stopped myself. I didn’t know why I said what I said, but I did. “Yeah, a ride would be nice.”

          David looked at me with surprise. “I thought you’d shoot me down…like you usually do.”

          “I don’t always shoot you down.” I defended myself, giving him a look.

          “Yeah you do.”

          “No I don’t.”

          “Oh yeah?” he challenged, raising a brow at me. “Name one time when you didn’t shoot me down.”

          “Errmm…” I trailed off, thinking of a time. “Oh! I got one. When you took me home from that beach party.”

          He responded to my answer with a frown. “You sprained your ankle, remember? And then you complained endlessly when I wanted you to spend the night at my apartment.”

          “Yeah, but I still went to your apartment,” I answered, weakly.

          “That’s because you had no other way of getting home…”

          I puffed my cheeks out at him. He was deflecting every defense I had. “Fine! Maybe I do shoot you down all the time, but right now I’m not, okay? What, do you not want to take me home or something?”