Waves - Book #2 [completed]

14 ~ Ambivalent

Ambivalent
adj.
Having mixed feelings, or contradictory ideas, about something or someone.

On Thanksgiving, I blamed the tequila for the way my stomach fluttered and my heartbeat quickened every time we touched. But I can't possibly blame the alcohol for the strangely familiar feelings I had at the bar on karaoke night since I only had two measly beers.

Him touching my knee and thigh felt... good. I admit it, okay? I didn't know I wanted it until his fingers grazed my skin. But then? I wanted his touch. Craved it like parched land craves water. I wanted him to drape his arm over my shoulder and pull me closer. I wanted to lean into his big, masculine body, wanted him to make me feel safe, warm and cozy. I saw how his eyes dropped to my neckline, drinking me in, and I didn't mind then. He melted all my inhibitions embarrassingly fast and I don't know what kind of sorcery he used to accomplish that because I haven't felt this way with anyone else for years. It must be the self-assurance that comes with being famous and knowing you're handsome.

Only when his hand inched higher on my thigh and my core muscles clenched with forgotten excitement, I snapped out of it.

It was wrong. I don't even know him that well. He could be a psycho for all I know. I shouldn't have allowed him to touch me like this, so possessively, like you'd touch a significant... No!

So I keep my distance over the next two weeks, avoiding to meet any of my students at the beach by Rathi's house, giving excuses for every gathering where he might appear at and running errands at the ass crack of dawn so I don't run into someone. I focus on teaching Emma, survey her options for upcoming surging qualifiers and fix dings in my boards.

It's pathetic. It's been such a long time since I felt that tingle, that flapping of my heart and that heady cloud in my head, but I still know what all this means. It's a preliminary warning that a person can and will eventually make you stumble into feelings. Feelings I want to feel because they're exciting and beautiful, but at the same time I want to push them as far away as possible because I shouldn't be involved with anyone. Not to mention Mason. I won't allow myself to fall into that pit.

He's trouble in so many aspects. He's only here for a few months. He's a musician with a temper and an attitude. Though he can be charming, he's entitled and smug more often than. And he's a playboy. Maybe I'm stereotyping here but I can't afford to have a silly crush on him that's purely based on looks, sensation and the sexuality that oozes out of him. I'm not sixteen anymore.

Yet here I am again, standing at his – or rather Danny's door – clutching my car key in my left hand and knocking on the door with my right, hoping that Mason doesn't open. I shouldn't care if he has enough groceries. I shouldn't check on him. But something tells me he's lonely. He's new-ish in town, doesn't know many people and Danny and Rathi are in Brisbane this week.

Sighing, I knock a second time. I normally just strut into the house considering I have a key, but I'm hoping Mason puts on at least pants before he...

"Oh hi, Crabby." Mason smirks as he opens the door, tattooed arms, chiseled chest and defined abs on display, but at least wearing basketball shorts with the Brooklyn Nets logo on them. "Bringing me groceries again? We're out of mangos."