by Carlos Dash
“I’m not getting pissy. I just want to know why you’re giving up so easily. Look at the time. It’s not late at all. We can go and do whatever we want.”
Emily frowns and then looks as if she just remembered she left the stove on in her house. “Oh, I get it. You just want sex. That’s why you’re acting this way.”
I quietly sigh and bring the car out all the way. I join the minimal traffic of the road and journey back towards my house. “That’s not true. If all I wanted was sex, I’d be all for going back to my place. I just… I just wanted to spend more time with you. That’s all.”
I quiet down and focus entirely on the act of driving, burying my annoyance deep inside of me.
Emily turns to me a few times as if she’s about to say something, but she never actually manages to produce any words.
I think it’s because of that tension that the drive back to my home feels much longer than it should.
I ease the car into the driveway and stop it a few feet away from the garage door.
Emily grabs her phone and starts tapping a few buttons. Seemed like she’s trying to locate the number for the taxi service.
I instantly notice how odd that is. She had plenty of time to do that on our way back. Yet she chose to wait until I brought the car into my driveway, mere feet away from my home. She can’t be oblivious to the fact that we’re within walking distance of my bedroom. Does she want me to try something?
I make a mental list of pros and cons. The summary of it is that if I’m wrong, I might just get slapped in the face. Then, Emily will go to her father and tell him that she can’t be my assistant any longer. If he asks why, she’s more than capable of making up a reasonable excuse.
But I could be right. It’s 50/50 odds, and for a guy thinking about the possibility of sex, 50/50 odds are more than good enough.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and look at the side of Emily’s head. A lone strand of her hair has gotten loose. A brown wave that arches down gracefully to that elegant neck of hers.
I reach forward and push the strand delicately behind her ear. Her eyes dart towards mine and we stare at each other in the darkness of the car.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“What I think you want me to do.”
To be continued…
