My skin hummed. My muscles throbbed. My mouth ached with desire. I wanted this kiss more than any kiss I could ever remember wanting.
Then someone yelled, “Fire!”
11
Suffice it to say, the mood was ruined. A rooftop kiss was not to be.
It was kind of a tiny fire, though. Some hipster was screwing around while roasting his marshmallow and wound up singeing the end of his foot-long beard. He panicked, like anyone would if part of their body caught fire, and when he screamed, Ray leaped into action. Zipping across the rooftop, our fearless super ripped the fire extinguisher off the wall, aimed it in the general direction of the kerfuffle, and let the foam fly.
Everything within a four-foot radius was promptly doused in a thick coat of flame-squelching froth. The fire pit, the S’mores Station, the hipster. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured, although the hipster guy was in tears.
“I spent three years growing my shit out,” he cried, wiping foam out of his eyes. His girlfriend consoled him with a regretful expression, though it was unclear whether she was mourning the loss of his beard or questioning her relationship choices.
There wasn’t any property damage, either; just a hell of a gloopy white mess to clean up. But once a fire starts, that’s the beginning of the end for a party. The music cut off abruptly, and Vanessa pushed her way to the center of the rooftop, clapping her hands.
“Can I have your attention?” A hush fell on the crowd, and she said, “Thank you so much for coming. It’s been wonderful having everyone here on this beautiful spring evening. Unfortunately, with the unexpected turn of events—” she motioned to the fire pit and S’mores Station, which were now toast “—I’m afraid we’re going to have to shut down the festivities a little early.”
A collective groan broke out and Vanessa quickly added, “I’m so sorry, again. Thank you.”
I looked up at Alex, who still held me close, but in a way that was less seductive, more protective. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. It wasn’t my beard that went up in flames.”
“Right.” He furrowed his brow, watching Ray as he dragged a giant trash can out of a utility shed. “I should go see if he needs some help with that,” he said, and walked away.
While Vanessa began ushering people toward the roof access door in an orderly fashion, I craned my neck searching for Whitney. Finally, I spotted her in the corner, flirting with one of those big, beefy dudes in Dickies. He looked completely titillated. I shuddered to think of what she was whispering in his ear.
“Yo, Sal!” Ray called across the rooftop, to where Whitney was sitting. Her companion winced, then flashed Whit a pained look before running to Ray.
She stood up, smoothed the front of her skirt, and ambled over to me. “That guy is hot.”
“He’s a friend of our super.”
“Your super is also hot.” After surveying the dwindling crowd, she said, “Looks like this party’s over.”
“Nothing’ll kill a party faster than a beard fire.”
“There’s a new club in Greenpoint that’s spinning G-house on Saturdays. I’ve been meaning to check it out. Wanna come with? You can bring your boy toy, if you want.”
“Nah. I should stay and help Vanessa clean up.”
“Suit yourself.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Love you. Use a condom.”
I giggled, giddy, but then that weird sensation in my stomach returned, and I felt a little nauseous. There was a good chance Alex and I were gonna get it on tonight. And while part of me couldn’t wait to jump his bones, there was another, more insidious part of me that was terrified of screwing things up.
That age-old advice ricocheted around my skull: make him wait. At this point in history, when women were fully independent and autonomous individuals, this directive seemed totally antiquated and even a little conniving. Why wouldn’t I sleep with a guy who I really liked, who treated me well, and who made me quiver every time we touched?
Because of that other age-old advice: Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free? Deep down, I knew this was bullshit, but the theory was persistent, and everywhere. I’d even read an article (on the Fluttr blog, of all places) that suggested “taking it slow” helps a woman earn a guy’s respect. Sex on the first date, however, earns a woman a one-way ticket to Ho-Town. (They actually used the term Ho-Town.)
It was all ass-backward, though. Whit never followed this advice, mostly because she wasn’t interested in guys sticking around. But it always seemed to backfire on her, resulting in one-night stands who never went away. Lia, on the other hand, made Jay wait until their fifth date—which, frankly, I find insane—but after that, they grew serious quite quickly. Although, who knew what was going on with them now.
Finally, I thought, fuck it, and decided to let my loins lead me where they may. Alex wasn’t gonna ghost on me. Like I told Whit, it’d be pretty much impossible, considering we shared a workspace.
Beyond that, he just didn’t seem like the type. As I picked up empty mason jars and dirty paper plates, I watched him hose down the fire pit, rinsing each lava rock individually to ensure no traces of flame retardant were left behind. Every move he made was so cautious and thoughtful. If he was that gentle when handling a broken piece of rock, imagine how gentle he’d be with my heart.
Between Alex, Ray, his buddies, Vanessa, and me, it took only twenty minutes to clean up the rooftop. The lights were stripped, the tables were folded, and all the empty mason jars and serving trays had been returned to our apartment. When Ray’s buddies bumped fists and left, only the four of us remained.
“Is there anything else I can do?” Alex asked.
“Nah,” Ray said, fiddling with the speakers. “All I gotta do is unhook this thing and then we’re done. Something’s caught back here, though.”
“Let me take a look at it,” Vanessa said, crouching down beside him.
I glanced at Alex. It was now or never. Because I sure as hell wasn’t waiting until the fifth date.
“Wanna come hang at my place for a bit?”
There was no pretense. No sitting on the couch and turning on the TV. No pouring of drinks. We both headed straight for my bedroom, with a purpose. And that purpose was to get it on.
Clothes went flying, hands went searching. When our mouths met, I felt like a long-standing thirst had been quenched. Three orgasms later, I was a paralyzed puddle of pleasure, and the idea that I’d ever considered “making him wait” seemed not only ludicrous but masochistic. There was no valid reason to ever deprive myself of this ecstasy.
At some point after our sex-athon, I passed out, then woke at dawn with an urgent need to pee. Alex was curled up beside me, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths. God, he was even more gorgeous when he slept.
As quietly as possible, I rolled out of bed, threw on an oversize T-shirt, and poked my head into the hallway. No signs of life; that was good. A quick glance into the living room revealed a disaster of epic proportions; that was bad, but a problem to be solved in the morning. For now, I tiptoed into the bathroom and flicked on the light.
The first thing I saw were two tan sculpted butt cheeks, followed immediately by Ray’s horrified expression in the mirror.
“Oh, shit!” he cried.
I shrieked. Not out of fear; Ray had always been a nice, polite, completely nonthreatening guy. I was simply shocked—by the fact that he was here, in my bathroom, in the middle of the night, bare-ass naked.
And, if I’m being honest, I was also shocked at how buff he was. Who knew his Dickies had been concealing such wonder?
Actually, I already knew the answer to that question: Vanessa.
“Melanie, I am so sorry.” He grasped desperately at a washcloth, holding it over his groin in a vain attempt to cover his modesty. I ducked into the hall, hiding behind the bathroom door to spare
us both the embarrassment of eye contact. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay,” I called. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be there. No biggie.”
“If I knew you were here, I never would’ve been walking around naked. I thought you were over at your boyfriend’s house.”
He thinks Alex is my boyfriend.
I stifled a fit of giddy giggles.
Suddenly, my not-boyfriend came bounding out of my bedroom, a sheet wrapped around his waist. “Is everything okay?” He stopped short when he saw me standing with my back to the bathroom door, sporting what I presumed to be a dreamy smile. “I thought I heard you scream. What’s going on?”
Before I could answer, Ray emerged from the bathroom, his nether regions draped in a generous bath towel. “Hiya,” he said.
Alex’s eyes darted from Ray to me and back again. “Uh...hi.”
Then, as if three wasn’t enough of a crowd, Vanessa appeared in the doorway of her bedroom. She wore a satin kimono that fell off one shoulder. Her makeup was smudged, her hair was sticking out in twelve directions. I don’t think I’d ever seen her so disheveled.
Or so radiant, for that matter.
But her rosy complexion went pale when she saw me and Alex. She stiffened, righting her kimono and crossing her arms across her chest.
“What’s going on?” She barked the question, but her voice was shaky around the edges.
“Nothing, baby.” Ray moved toward her, one hand gripping his towel. When he touched her, she flinched. “I scared Melanie, that’s all. Sorry again, Mel.” He flashed an apologetic smile in my direction, then nodded toward Alex. “Take care, man.”
“Later.”
The door clicked shut behind them, and I clasped my hand tightly over my mouth to keep from howling with laughter.
Alex whispered, “What?”
I held up one finger, then pointed to the bathroom. “Give me one second. I’ll tell you when I’m done.”
After I finished my business, I returned to my room to find him lounging on top of my rumpled covers, paging through my dog-eared copy of The Web Development Bible.
“Doing some early morning research?” I asked.
“Gotta keep my skills sharp. The start-up world is cutthroat, you know.” As he turned the page, a sheet of notepaper fell onto his chest. “What’s this?”
I slid into bed beside him and froze. That paper he was holding? A note I’d written to myself last week, while I was trying to work out a problem with JerkAlert. It was covered in words like profile and review and Fluttr.
Uh-oh.
In an instant, I snatched it from his hands, crumpled it in one fist, and tossed it behind my headboard. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Just some scrap paper. Probably a million years old by now. It could’ve even been in the book when I bought it. I got it used. Online.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Alex narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m totally fine.” I needed to change the subject, fast. “Oh! Let me explain why I was laughing in the hallway.”
“Oh, right.” He took the bait without a second thought. “I didn’t realize Vanessa was dating your building super.”
“She’s not. Or, at least, she wasn’t. He’s had a huge crush on her and she was totally in denial about it, but I guess she finally gave in.”
“That explains how she got roof access.”
“Exactly. She literally slept her way to the top.”
He laughed, crinkling his nose. “Hey, whatever works. I don’t judge her. Lots of people use sex to get what they want.”
I gave him a look of mock suspicion. “And is that the reason you’re sleeping with me? For the free computer repair?”
“No.” He traced his finger down the curve of my hip. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s a definite perk. But the only reason I’m here right now is because I really like you.”
He punctuated the word you with a soft tap in the center of my chest, and the singular motion turned my heart to gelatinous goop.
“I hope that doesn’t freak you out,” he said.
“Why would that freak me out? Trust me, after all the dating nightmares I’ve endured, hearing you tell me you like me is... It’s special. It’s different. You’re different. And I really like you, too.”
Then I leaned forward and kissed him. Slowly, tenderly, thoroughly. As if his lips were the most decadent delicacy I’d ever tasted. And when he pulled me in close and wrapped his strong arms around me, that familiar feeling returned.
Ecstasy.
As far as I was concerned, he could have all the free milk he wanted.
12
I awoke to a rustling. Like someone was folding clean clothes. Perhaps a laundry fairy had arrived in the middle of the night to deliver me from my self-made squalor.
No, it was just Alex, turning his pants right side out and shaking away the wrinkles. He was wearing underwear and socks... Wait a minute. Was he planning to smash and dash?
In an instant, I bolted upright. “Are you leaving already?”
God, that sounded desperate. I mean, the sun was out. It had to have been late morning, possibly even early afternoon. Time to get on with our days, separately. After all, we weren’t a couple. He was my not-boyfriend.
Still, if he’d wanted to grab brunch or something, I wouldn’t have said no. Even a cup of coffee would’ve been nice.
Clearly, that wasn’t gonna happen, though. When he heard my voice, he gave me this panicky look. A look that said, “My attempt at a smash-and-dash has failed.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m good. I just...” He spun in circles in the center of my tiny bedroom, his eyes darting across the messy floor. “What did I do with my shirt?”
I plucked it from the tangle of sheets and tossed it at him. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
As he fastened his buttons, I seethed. After the night we’d just experienced—a night filled with passion and laughter and multiple orgasms—he was simply going to take off while I was still asleep. He hadn’t even been planning to say goodbye. Asshole.
I thought he was different. I told him I liked him. I gave away the milk, and now he was breaking free.
God, I was an idiot.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Yes,” I said, through gritted teeth. “I’m sure you’re very sorry.”
Worry lines formed on his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
Seriously? I couldn’t believe he was going to make me spell this out for him. In that case, I wanted to be crystal clear.
“We fucked all night, and you were just about to take off without saying goodbye.”
“No!” He looked horrified. “No, that’s not... Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” At once, he was next to me, on the bed, his hands grasping at mine. “I am so sorry. I can see why it would seem that way, but I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful and happy lying there. For what it’s worth, I wrote you a note.” He pointed to my nightstand, where a piece of paper sat on top of the clutter.
Reluctantly, I reached for it. A note was better than nothing, I guess, but I certainly wasn’t thrilled about it. It read:
Mel,
Headed to work now. Had an amazing time last night. Thanks for everything.
Text you later,
A
“You’re working on a Sunday?”
“I work every Sunday. Every Saturday, too. There’s no such thing as weekends when you’re trying to launch a start-up. And I didn’t want to leave in such a rush, but I accidentally overslept, and I promised Vijay I’d get him the results of this load test today, and I’ve got so much to do before I can make that happen.”
He raked his hand t
hrough his hair, that panicky look returning to his eyes. And I realized that look had nothing to do with getting caught in a smash-and-dash. He was legit terrified of losing his funding.
“I get it,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“Thanks.” He smiled, visibly relieved. “I had such a great time last night.”
“Me, too. Sorry for freaking out on you.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry I made you freak out.” He slid his hands around the back of my neck, rubbing his thumbs along my jawline. “But I’m glad I get the chance to say a proper goodbye now.”
I was so hungry for his kiss that the thought of morning breath didn’t cross my mind. It didn’t seem to bother him, either. Not from the way he consumed me, his eager mouth enveloping mine, making my whole body tremble.
He broke off abruptly, with a dazed sort of look in his eye. “I’ll text you later.”
“Okay.”
I moved to stand, but he said, “You don’t have to get up. Stay. Relax. I can see myself out.”
And then he was gone.
After the intensity of that kiss, there was no way I could relax. Maybe I’d have a go with my magic bullet, instead. Reclining in bed, I closed my eyes, licking the remnants of his flavor off my lips. But my plan for self-fulfillment was rudely interrupted when my phone beeped with a text from Whitney.
WHITNEY:
Have you checked Twitter?
MEL:
No, why?
WHITNEY:
You’re trending again.
Goddammit.
MEL:
I don’t care.
WHITNEY:
No, it’s not the #DickInTheDark thing. It’s something else. Something waaay better.
MEL:
WTF does that mean?
She replied with a link. At first, I didn’t understand what I was scrolling through. It seemed to be a Twitter feed about bad Fluttr dates or something. Then I noticed all the tweets had the same hashtag: #JerkAlert.
MEL:
Holy shit!
WHITNEY:
I know!
MEL:
How did you find this?
How to Hack a Heartbreak Page 10