The First 100 Kisses: Practice Makes Perfect

by Danielle Bannister

  “It’s only 7:45,” he said. His eyes were pinched with worry, as though he had been the one to do something wrong. No. All me. I screwed up.

  “I know, but I slept like shit last night,” I lied. I pulled my skirt back down and adjusted my top, all while walking toward the door and not looking back. I couldn’t look him in the eye. He’d see the lie there.

  “Laters,” I forced out and left his apartment, ignoring his calls to come back.

  No. I wouldn’t be going back there tonight. I had to pull the plug on this. It was clear now. Despite my best efforts to stay neutral, I was having feelings for my best friend. That was something I couldn’t allow. Liam was my rock. The one person I told everything to. I couldn’t lose him just because of my stupid libido. I wouldn’t.

  Back in my apartment, I let the tears fall freely. Locking the door, I tried to push away all thoughts of Liam as well. I had to shut the door on my feelings for him. I had to.

  In the shower, I made a check list.

  Step one, shower his scent off me.

  Step two, don’t answer his texts or knocks on the door tomorrow. I needed some space from him.

  Step three, remind yourself that it’s Angel he wants.

  Step four, repeat the mantra of Step three until it actually sinks in. He wants her, not you.

  Then why did he kiss me like that?

  “Because you trained him to, moron,” I said to the fogged-up mirror.

  My hair dripped down my naked body. The shower had done its job of removing his smell, but there seemed little I could do about the mental replay of the night. My brain couldn’t seem to stop flashing the memories across my mind. Of the way his hands felt on my skin. How his eyes pierced my soul…

  “Stop,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. “I don’t want to remember this. I want to forget it,” I said, sinking to the floor. “Please.”

  I curled up into a ball beside my bed and cried against the cold, hardwood floors. I’d made a terrible mistake. An irrevocable one. I’d let myself crush on someone who didn’t feel the same about me and never, ever would.

  The smell of coffee woke me from my slumber.

  Two things registered at the same time. One: I didn’t set a timer for coffee, and two: I was in my bed. Not the floor, where I distinctly remembered falling asleep.

  Liam. It had to be. He must have come over to check on me, saw me on the floor…naked from my shower…shit…then put me into bed. Now he was making be breakfast. Like a goddamn gentleman. He must have used the emergency ‘in case I am dead and causing a stink in the apartment complex’ key I gave him.

  Throwing the covers off, I grabbed my pink silk robe and stormed out to the kitchen to tell him to go home. The whole reason I left him last night was because I needed space. From him, from the lessons, and definitely from his lips.

  Ripping the door open of my bedroom I was about to yell, except it wasn’t Liam standing with a naked backside in my kitchen. A distinct eagle wing tattoo was spread across his back. My insides shriveled.

  “Damon?”

  He turned around. Mercifully wearing my work apron which covered just his front and nothing else. He held a pan in one hand.

  “Morning, sexy. I got your text,” he winked, looking down at his crotch. Through the apron I could see he was happy to see me.

  “My text?” I asked, but then remembered the booty calls I’d sent out last night.

  Shit.

  “Right. That.” I rubbed my head. “How did you get in?” I remember locking the door last night. I locked it because I didn’t want Liam to come in.

  “You gave me a key, remember? You wanted to stay fuck buddies. It’s been awhile.”

  “Um, yeah. It has,” I said, trying to figure out how I was going to get myself out of this pickle. Damon was really only good for one thing, after that, there was nothing redeeming about him. Like, at all. He was arrogant, aggressive, and the worst kind of asshole. Clearly, I was using my horn-dog brain and not my logical one when I texted him because he was the last person I wanted to see. Especially after our previous hook up.

  He put the pan down and walked over to me.

  “That’s okay, baby. I’m here for you. I can give you what you need.” He put his arms around my waist, and I flinched. No. I wasn’t going to do this again. I was in a better head space this time, and not so naïve about how he operated anymore. The guy was a predator. He fed off insecure women and then used them in his own sick ways. I was stupid before. Admittedly. But I had just lost out on a job I’d really wanted, my closest friend besides Liam moved to Alaska, and Liam had left town for some finance conference. I had too much to drink at the bar…and that’s when Damon swooped in to save me from myself. We only hooked up for a few weeks, but it was more than enough to inform me of how dangerous he was. Eventually, he tired of me and moved on to some other girl. I had forgotten I gave him a key.

  That first week as fuck buddies had actually been enjoyable. Then he became too aggressive for my liking. Showing up to work with bruises on my arms and neck did not float my boat. I was relieved when he stopped calling me, because a guy like Damon doesn’t like to be told ‘No.’

  “I need to apologize,” I said. “I shouldn’t have sent that text. I was drunk last night.” I lied, trying to get him to understand this was just a big mix up. “I’m feeling better now.” I pulled the strings of my robe tighter. “Thanks, though.”

  He licked his lips and kept moving forward. A sickening grin spread across is face as he took the ties of my robe from my hands to try to undo them instead.

  “Damon, look, I’m sorry you came out all this way, but this isn’t going to happen.” I put my hands against him to stop his advances.

  Damon narrowed his eyes at me. It was scary as fuck.

  “I’ll leave when I get what I came here for, Chloe. You don’t get to be a cock tease and then not pay up.”

  “Damon. No. I’m not doing this. I have a boyfriend.” I lied.

  “Like I give a shit who you’re fucking?” he laughed. “Now, let me see that sexy little body of yours.” He went for the strings again, this time managing to yank them apart, exposing me.

  “Stop!” I shouted, hoping maybe Liam would hear me.

  That’s when he grabbed me and spun me around and held my mouth shut with one hand. With the other, he grabbed onto my boob, hard. I bit him.

  “You bitch,” he yelled, but he released his hand long enough for me to maneuver out of his grasp. He came at me again and I, instinctively, I reached my hand up fast, like I’d seen in movies, with the heel of my hand and made impressive contact against his nose.

  He shouted. Blood gushed down from his nose.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  I needed to get out of here now, before he recovered. Heart pounding, I stole the second he was hunched over to bolt out of my apartment and raced to Liam’s. His door was unlocked, thank god. The second I got inside I deadbolted his lock and crouched down holding my breath.

  From out in the hall, I could hear Damon cursing my name. I crawled away from the door, bumping smack into Liam. I nearly jumped out of my skin until I heard his voice soothing me.

  “Chloe, what is it? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  He helped me to my feet, and I buried my head into his unsuspecting chest. His arms wrapped around me, which I knew was not an easy gesture for him to make.

  “What is it? Another spider?” he asked.

  Just then, Damon cursed my name in the hall loud enough to shake the walls.

  Liam took one look at my disheveled robe and his face hardened.

  “Did he—”

  I shook my head vehemently. “No. I hit him in the nose before he could. He’s angry, Liam,” I whispered.

  He pushed me aside and made for the door, but I held him back.

  “No!” I begged, trying to keep my voice down. I didn’t want him knowing where I was. I wouldn’t have put it past him to break down Liam’s door. “No offense, but Damon is
an animal and would kick the shit out of you. Then, he’d come after me. Just let him cool off. He’ll leave on his own. Please don’t go out there.” I pleaded.

  “But he broke into your apartment. He tried to—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  “Please,” I begged.

  The fear in my voice, along with my hands clutching his arm, seemed to communicate the real danger of engaging with Damon.

  “Fine. But we’re calling the cops for breaking and entering,” he said.

  “No.” I shook my head. “This was my fault. He didn’t break in. I invited him over.”

  “What?”

  “Can we not talk about it right now?” My eyes darted back to the door, scared out of my mind. “Keep your voice down. I don’t want him to know where I am.”

  Liam seemed to work out the odds of taking down an angry beast verses waiting for him to leave on his own accord, because he led me to his bedroom, far away from his front door, and sat me down. I clutched onto him as he rocked me in his arms. I curled my legs over his lap, and he held me like a father might hold their child.

  We sat like that for a half-hour or more, neither of us saying a word, each waiting for the sounds of some sort of all clear.

  When my apartment door slammed some time later, I jumped, but Liam held me close. We stayed frozen for several more minutes before Liam spoke.

  “Chloe, talk to me. Are you okay?”

  I let out a deep breath and nodded against his chest before pulling out of his embrace.

  “Yeah. I’m okay. Sorry.”

  “Can you tell me what happened now?” His question was gentle. I knew if I said no, he wouldn’t pressure me, but he also deserved an answer.

  “After we…finished here last night,” Liam lowered his eyes, as though ashamed of what we had done. Of course he was. Yet another affirmation that we weren’t an item. I was only his teacher. I shook the thought out of my head and continued the story. “I went back to my place. Took a shower, then went to bed.” I left out the part about me crying myself to sleep because that was a memory no one needed to hear. “When I woke up, I smelled coffee. I assumed it was you.” His jaw clenched. “So, I threw on my bathrobe and went out to the kitchen, but it wasn’t you. It was him.”

  “Who was that man and why was he in your apartment? How did he get in? Did you leave your place unlocked?” I could tell he was about to scold me for the very same thing I yelled at him about on a daily basis, but I shook my head.

  “No. I gave him a key last year. His name is Damon. We were…um…friends with benefits.” I lowered my eyes in shame. “It was nothing serious. He moves on fast. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

  “So, he just showed up at your place after a year of not being in contact?” I could hear the anger building in his voice.

  “Not exactly,” I confessed.

  “Explain,” he said.

  Sighing, I walked over to his couch and sat down, readjusting my robe. There was a throw blanket on the edge of the couch that I pulled over myself. He sat down beside me with big, expectant eyes.

  “Before I came over here last night to give you your jacket…I may have been on my way out to the bars. I’d texted a few former hook-ups beforehand.”

  “What? Why?” He sounded appalled.

  “Because I was horny, alright? All this kissing and no sex has been driving me insane. I needed to get properly fucked if I was going to continue helping you,” I said, much harsher than I meant.

  Liam looked at me for a few moments and then nodded. “Sexual frustration. I can see how one might need…release.”

  “Yeah,” I said, pushing my hair out of my face. “My toys are great, but sometimes you just need to feel a person’s hands on you,” I muttered.

  Liam seemed uncomfortable by my idea of toys, but he didn’t chastise me for them. Perhaps now that he’d had a taste of physical contact, he would be more forgiving of my past transgressions.

  “So, you were going to sleep with one of the guys you texted.”

  “I don’t know. Probably,” I shrugged.

  “Even though you don’t love any of them.”

  I laughed bitterly. “To quote Tina Turner, ‘What’s love got to do with it?’”

  “Everything, Chloe.” His voice was serious and laced with judgement.

  “Says the thirty-three-year-old-virgin.” I knew the words were hurtful the minute I said them. Damn me and my word vomit. “I’m sorry. That was cruel. Don’t listen to me. I’m a bitter woman, jilted by love too many times to believe in it anymore.”

  Liam smiled and shook his head. “No, you’re just not patient is all.”

  “You got that right,” I admitted.

  “I know you don’t believe it, but I really do feel that there is somebody for each of us. Someone who is worth waiting for. Even for thirty-three years.”

  He was right. I didn’t believe him. I did for a small fraction of time earlier this week, but now I was just cold. I pulled the blanket around me tighter, searching for warmth from inanimate objects.

  He reached over and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

  “I’m fine. He didn’t get the chance to. My binge-watching of action flicks paid off.” I looked down at my hand. Some of his blood was on me. “I should wash this off, huh?”

  I pushed the blanket off and headed for the front door. Liam’s hand reached behind his couch to take my hand and held me in place.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my place,” I said, confused. “I need to shower.”

  He stood up and walked around his couch. “No. What if he comes back, Chloe?”

  I blinked. I hadn’t thought about that, but I didn’t want to worry him, so I waved his concern away with my hand.

  “He won’t. He didn’t get what he wanted, so he will be looking to find it somewhere else.”

  He stood then, walked over to me, and gently grabbed both of my shoulders.

  “And what if he doesn’t? Chloe, you have to call the police. He assaulted you.”

  “No, he didn’t. Look, I’ll change the locks if that makes you feel better.”

  He nodded. “It would. Until then, however, you’ll stay with me.”

  “Liam,” I said, “That isn’t necessary.”

  “I’m not letting you back there until those locks are changed, Chloe.” His tone was firm.

  I frowned, ready to counter his logic. “So, I’m supposed to walk around in nothing but my bathrobe until I can get a locksmith out here? You know that’s gonna take weeks.”

  By the look on his face, I could tell he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Recovering, he said, “You just tell me what you need, and I’ll go to your place and get it.”

  He was being serious. He hadn’t thought this plan of his through at all, so I decided I was going to have some fun with him. “Okay. I’m going to need some bras and panties to start with,” I said in a deliberate husky tone.

  He huffed. “Fine, you can come with me. But you’re staying with me until the locks are changed.” The concern on his face was real. To be honest, I didn’t think Damon would come back, but maybe it wouldn’t be smart to test that.

  “I’ll stay with you, but I get the remote.”

  “I don’t watch much television,” he said. And it was true. Most of what he watched was what I forced him to.

  He looked down at my robe just then.

  “Would you like to do this now, or would you rather wait?”

  I looked at the door. It had been quite a while since Damon slammed the door, and it would be nice to not be so naked.

  “Let’s go now.”

  He walked over to his door, looked through the peephole, then opened it a crack, motioning for me to stay back in his apartment. He grabbed an umbrella from his coat rack and held it over his shoulder like a bat. He looked positively ridiculous. Not that even something more appropriate like a bat would do him any good. Contact s
ports were not his thing. But I know it made him feel safer, so I didn’t say anything.

  The hallway was empty, as it usually was this time of day. Even so, he walked slowly, as to not make any noise. He got to my apartment and stopped. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. After a moment he opened the door, his umbrella at the ready.

  I watched from his doorway as he walked slowly into my apartment. When I didn’t hear him scream, I took that to mean the coast was clear, and followed. When I got to my door though, Liam was there, trying to divert my attention.

  “No, don’t come in,” Liam said, but it was too late.

  On the back of my light beige couch was the word whore, written in what looked like his own blood.

  “That fucking bastard,” I said, pushing past Liam to inspect the damage. Blood on beige. No amount of cold water was going to get that out.

  “Couches can be replaced, Chloe. Don’t worry about it right now. Let’s just get your things and get out of here.”

  I looked at the couch again and shivered. That was the work of a crazy person. Maybe Liam was right. Maybe it would be safer to stay with him. That asshole was unhinged.

  “Right. Okay. Let me grab a bag.”

  I walked into my room with Liam at my heels. I couldn’t help thinking I’d dodged a major bullet this morning. What if I hadn’t been able to land that hit? What if Liam’s door had been locked for once? What if I hadn’t been able to get away? I shivered, and Liam saw it.

  “It’s going to be okay, Chloe. I won’t let him hurt you.” He approached me like a dog that had been beaten, his arms outstretched timidly, unsure if a hug would be appropriate or harmful. I made the choice for him and folded myself into his embrace. This morning could have ended so much worse. What would I have done if Liam hadn’t been home? I clutched Liam’s shirt and tried not to think about it.

  Working as fast as I could, I threw work clothes, pajamas, and undergarments into the bag. A few jeans and some T-shirts, and my toiletry bag that hung on the back of my bathroom door. When I’d finished, I turned back to Liam. He was sitting on the edge of my bed with an unreadable expression. He seemed on edge. Probably nervous that Damon would be back.