“Thanks for walking me back to my room.” I held Thomas’ hand lightly and turned to face him, my back to the door of the room I shared with Chelley. My heart raced with the expectation of a goodnight kiss from Thomas Lamb, the fastest speed skater in the world. His comment from the night before rang in my head about how some people thought he was too fast, meaning he stayed dangerously in the fast lane of life. Jordan would agree with that. Why was I thinking about Jordan? I lifted my face to Thomas, practically begging him to kiss me.
Thomas almost kissed me. He leaned closer and his lips hovered over mine, not actually connecting but leaving me breathless with anticipation.
“Ahem—” Jordan snuck up beside me and Thomas. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for a goodnight kiss? You barely know each other.”
Without waiting for me to answer my skating partner, Thomas closed the distance between my lips and his, brazenly kissing me as if he wanted Jordan to witness his conquest.
Part of me wanted to pull Thomas closer and get lost in his passionate kiss. Part of me wanted to push Thomas away and scold him for taunting Jordan. Part of me wanted to scold Jordan for interrupting my date. But the strongest part of me realized I was kissing the wrong guy and I pushed Thomas away for that reason alone.
I never should have gone on this date with Thomas. I never should have let him lure me into his seductive trap. I never should have enjoyed his kiss as much as I did. Thomas wasn’t Jordan. And Jordan was walking away from me.
“Wait!” I managed to extricate myself from Thomas in order to call down the hall to where Jordan was stepping into the elevator.
Jordan’s hardened expression didn’t soften as he punched the button for the elevator to transport him one floor down to the room where his roommate was probably already prepared for bed. None of us should be out this late. What was I thinking?
The elevator door closed, taking my best friend away. Crap. Now what? Hurry after him? I didn’t even know his room number. Send him a text? Too informal. Call him? I stepped away from Thomas, who now stood close to my door, one shoulder leaning against the wall, arms folded and sporting a triumphant smirk. Ignoring him, I pulled out my cell phone and tapped the top number on my contacts list. The call went straight to voicemail. Great.
“Jordan, call me when you get this message,” I breathlessly spoke to his voicemail. He probably wouldn’t listen but that didn’t stop me from continuing my apology. “That kiss didn’t mean anything. I promise. I didn’t even mean to kiss him. It happened so suddenly. I’m sorry. Please call me.” I tapped the screen to end the call and turned back to Thomas.
“Didn’t mean anything?” Thomas asked, a snide chuckle in his voice.
“You knew what I meant.” My shoulders slumped and I realized I had one more apology to make. “I’m sorry I let you kiss me. I think it’s pretty obvious that was a mistake on my part.”
“Whatever,” Thomas said with a shrug. “Trust me, there are plenty of other women in the Village who would love to take your place.”
“I’m sure there are,” I grumbled, sick at how quickly he was able to shift his affection.
“On that note,” Thomas said, pushing himself away from the wall. “I’ll leave you to deal with your lovers’ quarrel.”
“Thanks again for dinner.” That sounded really lame, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I stepped closer to my door and grasped the handle. “Good luck with all your races.”
“Good luck with your short program tomorrow. I’ll be rooting for you.” Thomas leaned down and kissed my cheek then strode down the hall toward the elevator. I didn’t know what else to say or do so I entered my room and quietly readied myself for what promised to be a long night with very little sleep.
(As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. -Julie)
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