Page 83 of Life’s Too Short

I wanted to plunge my hands into his pants, straddle his lap, and kiss him. Feel him go hard underneath me, let him take my clothes off. I could picture him pushing me onto my back on this sofa, sliding over me. I could almost feel the weight of him between my legs…

The tip of my pinky finger slipped under the waist of his pants as I canvassed his skin and he cleared his throat. “Okay, we’re going to have to stop that here or we’re gonna have problems.” He sat up and tugged his shirt over his stomach.

I swallowed hard, trying to play off how out of breath I was. “What kind of problems?”

“You know what kind of problems.”

I blushed, sitting back down next to him, feeling somewhat triumphant. I don’t think sober me would have had the wherewithal to look so pleased with herself for almost giving my neighbor a boner, but drunk me was thrilled.

“Hey,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Thank you for tonight. You gave me the perfect day today. It was perfect. Jaxon Waters sang happy birthday to me. How did you know what I’d like?”

He studied me quietly for a moment. “Because I know you. I know what’s important to you,” he said, holding my eyes. “Content for your channel so you can keep raising money for ALS research. Good food. Once-in-a-lifetime experiences.”

I smiled at him gently.

“I’m so lucky I know you,” I said quietly.

He paused for a moment. “I feel the same way. Like my life was a stuffy room, and you’re the breeze that came in when the window opened.”

We peered at each other…then he slid a warm hand over the one I had on the sofa between us. It zinged through me like lightning.

He was touching me!

Adrian almost never touched me—and when he did, it wasn’t like this.

I dropped my eyes to our hands and when I looked back up, his gaze had moved to my lips.

Oh my God…

Oh my God, he wanted to kiss me!

I immediately thought about how much he’d had to drink. Not a lot, right? Because I couldn’t even wrap my brain around the idea that he wanted me, in any way, unless there was something screwing with his decision making. But he did look like he was thinking about it.

How much had I had to drink? Was I misreading this?

My heart was pounding. His thumb started to move back and forth across the top of my hand like a reminder that it was there on purpose. I felt an invisible tug toward him, like there was a rope between us that both of us were pulling in.

I stared at him for one more moment. Then I sat up, leaned in, and kissed him.

Aaaand he didn’t kiss me back.

I think I would have registered this much faster if I hadn’t been buzzed. Sober me would have realized it wasn’t going well. But since I was drunk, I let it go on about three seconds longer than I should have. Just pressing my lips to an unresponsive mouth.

He pushed me gently off him. “Vanessa, no…”

Instant humiliation washed over me. “I’m sorry I don’t know what—”

He shook his head. “It’s—”

I waved him off. “You know what? It’s fine. I wouldn’t kiss me either,” I said, getting up quickly.

He stood and took a step toward me and put a hand out. “That’s not it—”

I couldn’t even look at him. I was so embarrassed. What the hell was I thinking? “You should go. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

“Vanessa, I think we should talk about this—”

I laughed dryly. “I really don’t want to. I made a mistake. I was just caught up in the moment and I’m drunk—it didn’t mean anything, honestly. I wish I didn’t do it. I’m sorry,” I said, looking him in the eye.