Chapter Twelve; Part One
“That was incredible,” I sigh after we have thoroughly explored each other’s bodies. She is by far the best lover I’ve had in a long time. We are lying on my bed, both satiated, our sweaty bodies pressing lightly against each other. She has her arm casually draped under my neck, and it feels right to be lying by her side. We lie in compatible silence for a few minutes until Vashti reluctantly sits up.
“I should be going. Work and all.” She quickly dresses.
I am secretly relieved that she is leaving. I have difficulty sleeping next to someone I don’t know well, and despite the activities we just engaged in, I definitely don’t know her well enough yet. Vashti pecks me on the lips and pushes me back into bed when I make a move to get up. I elude her hands, grab my robe and get up. I note that Paris hasn’t come home yet, which means he most likely slept with Jenna. I walk to Vashti to the front door where we kiss deeply before she leaves. There is a smile on my face as I lean on the door. To my surprise, the door starts rattling.
“Rayne? It’s me.” Paris’s voice is muffled, but recognizable. I let him in.
“How was your date?” I smile at him knowingly, hoping to get a rise out of him.
“It wasn’t a date,” Paris sighs, staggering into the living room. I follow, eager for the details. He plops down onto the couch, exhaling loudly as he does.
“Well?” I have a feeling this is going to be juicier than a soap opera.
It started nicely with dinner, though Paris was wary because Jenna had gotten all dolled up which is unlike her. She even curled her hair which was definitely a first. They ate at a Middle Eastern restaurant on Valencia, but things started to unravel after they returned to Jenna’s apartment. She put on an Ella Fitzgerald CD and started swaying to the music. Before Paris could react, she reached up and unzipped her dress. That’s when Paris knew he couldn’t put it off any longer and gently told her that he didn’t want to see her any more. Instantly, she flipped. Started bawling and begging him not to leave her. When that had no impression on him, she started throwing things at him and ended up threatening to throw herself out the window.
“It would have been more impressive if she didn’t live on the ground floor.” Paris says with a straight face. We look at each other then simultaneously burst into laughter.
“So what did you do tonight?” Paris asks once he can talk again, his eyelids fluttering.
“Vashti,” I say casually, watching his face closely for his response. I don’t have long to wait.
“What?” His eyes fly open, and he pops up from the couch. His whole body screams disbelief. “You didn’t!”
“I did!” I shoot out my hand, and he high-fives me.