Be My Bad Boy

I carried the groceries into the kitchen. It had everything. Everything I ever needed. Including an awesome coffee machine. I squealed.
"What's up with you?"
"Coffee machine. And look at this kitchen. This is divine."
Andy stood by the kitchen table, laughing.
I grabbed some food out the bags to start cooking dinner. The whole time, I watched Andy out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he intended to start back where he'd left off. Maybe he was glad that we'd been interrupted. I had no idea how he felt. One minute, he was all hot hands and kisses. The next minute, it was as if I didn't even exist. I couldn't read him. I couldn't tell if just wanted to fool around and I was the only one handy or if it was something more. I didn't even know if I wanted anything more, I just knew that it thrilled me to be around him.
He didn't even look at me, just moved into the kitchen and started cooking up the steaks. He prepared some vegetables too. I hated to admit it but he was better at cooking than me. I'd taken classes in exotic foods that needed a stack of ingredients and a whole day to prepare. I could make finger foods for parties and exquisite cakes but I could not prepare a simple meal like that. I watched him chopping and stirring, adding things to the pan and tasting.

After we ate dinner, things got a bit awkward. I looked over at Andy a few times to see if he was going to make a move but he seemed engrossed in a movie on TV. It was almost as if he was purposely blocking me out, not wanting to look at me or talk to me or have any contact. Because he was like that, the silence grew and stretched between us. I couldn't work out how to bridge that gap.

I sat at one end of the couch and he sat at the other, a whole cushion between us. If I just moved over, got closer to him, maybe he’d react.
But how? How would he react? Would he welcome my advances or push me aside? He’d never had any problem showing me he wanted me before. How do people deal with that? Regular people? I’d been so used to men throwing themselves at me, I’d never learnt to make the first move.

Eventually, I said I was going to bed, trying to gauge how he'd respond.
"Night," he said, not taking his eyes off the TV.
I’d planned to give him a sultry look or even a toss of my head but he’d ruined even that.
I climbed the stairs to the bedroom, hoping he'd come after me but it was as if our embrace had just been a dream.
Waves crashing onto the beach outside and the low buzz of the television downstairs were the only noises. I sat on the edge of the bed, checking my phone but my ears strained for the sound of his footsteps.

The record company hadn’t called. I sent a text to Angie then headed for my en suite bathroom and turned on the shower. I’d wash every thought of that guy away.
When I got into bed though, I couldn't sleep. I had no idea what was going on in that man's stupid brain, how he could change from hot to cold so suddenly. I needed to figure him out.
I tossed and turned, replaying the grope at the crummy shack. It'd come from nowhere. And that time when we'd run away from the thug pool players. Each time, he'd not even built up to anything, just grabbed me. And I'd let him each time, as well. I'd not even tried to fight against him but willingly let him fondle me. I guess that let him think he could do what he wanted and get away with it.

How could he turn it on and off so easily?
I jumped out of bed and went downstairs. The movie must've finished and he was strumming away on his guitar. He finally looked up at me.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Huh?”
“What's going on with you?" My heart pounded, not sure if I should push this but I couldn't deal with the uncertainty. My voice came out thick and heavy, not light like I intended. "What's going on with us?"
He looked down at his guitar, moving his fingers along the frets but not making any sound.
"Do we have to talk about this now?"
I sat down.

"Yes. I need to know. Is this just a game to you? When you grab me and kiss me? Does it mean anything? I've got no idea what's going on."
I waited for him to reply but he just strummed the guitar and ignored me. If he thought I'd just give up, he could forget it. I knew he had a reputation for playing around but I deserved an answer and he could bloody well give it to me. Finally, he turned to face me.
"Look, Hannah, I told you before. Don't get involved with me." He stared out the windows. I wanted to scream. Yes, he'd told me, and I'd been more than willing to keep my distance but it seemed like that distance just made him chase me more. Why did he touch me when he just ended up pulling away? Was he purposely trying to torture me? I wanted to end this thing, one way or the other. I couldn't stand this rollercoaster of emotions, not with everything else going on.

"Well, if that's the case, keep your hands to yourself. Don't start something you can't finish."
He turned to me. A slow grin spread across his face.
"Is that a challenge?" And that look came back into his eyes. In a moment, his hands would be on my body and his lips would be pressing against mine. He'd take me into his arms in a way I couldn't resist and his scent would overwhelm me. He'd press against me and push me to respond. And I wanted that. I wanted that more than anything else in the world. He stood up and slowly embraced me. Then planted his soft lips on mine. He ran his hand up my leg. I wanted to push him off, but at the same time I wanted him. He pulled away and bit my neck softly. I knew the price now and I couldn't do this when I knew any moment he'd shut me out. I pushed him away. “It's not a challenge. It's a statement. Now I'm going back to bed.”

Notes

AHHHHHH I couldn't do it lmfao. I made it too awkward. Thankssss for reading xoxo