No Strings

Chapter 31--Boy and Girl Kiss

We went out for Ethiopian food in New York. I didn't know why, but our eyes connected. I leaned my head to one side. I leaned in closer to William. He hesitated. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine. I could taste wine, mint, cumin and yogurt.

I thought as I kissed him that I wanted to be drunk for the occasion because then I could blame the alcohol for any move I did. But I found myself sinking into his kiss. His hands didn't wander and he didn't cram his tongue down my throat. I could hear whispers and a few low whistles.

He ended the kiss by kissing my forehead. He gave no excuses, but looked me in the eye.

My beat hard in my chest.

He put down cash for the meal.

"Let's go," he said.

I resisted saying the cliche movie line, "Where?"

I got up from my chair and followed him. He offered his gloved hand which didn't seem so foreign now. I took it. I expected him to take me to the car so he could take us home, but he didn't.

He walked down the street with my hand in his and pointed out various buildings.

"See that one has Greek Revival written all over it."

We walked for a long time until I shivered. He walked me back to the car. He leaned in and opened the car door on my side. I thought he was going to kiss me, but again he didn't.

I fell asleep on the way back. He woke me up and led me back into the house. A little confused, I climbed the stairs, worn out. I ran into him in the hall. I laughed and went back to bed.

***

I stared at William over my usual morning cereal. I'd changed to Kix. I was pondering if I was inexperienced with a functional and normal relationship which was why he didn't repeat that magical kiss again, or if he was strange. Was there a man that didn't think about everything south of the equator? I thought I should know.

The Kix formed shapes with the remainder of the puffs. I avoided fishing the round balls out of the bowl by drinking the whole contents. The milk tasted sweet.

He was on a toast binge this time. I realized that he was making French toast. He looked a bit hung over.

"You remember what we did last night?" I asked.

"I didn't get that drunk," he replied, matching my tone. He yawned like a lion. He pushed the bread around in the pan.

"But you did get drunk."

"Just a little bit," he said.

I nodded and debated if I should pour myself another bowl. I always felt sick if I ate too much cereal in the morning. I opted to pour myself some juice instead.

The icicles outside were dripping.

He flipped the toast and leaned on it.

"I was conscious of my actions, if that's what you are getting at."

I said an "oh."

"If you have a question, then ask. Oh, and there was a flash snowstorm, so we're not going anywhere."

I looked at the dripping icicles and then back at him. He pointed towards the front door.

I ran to look out the front door. If crap was holy, it was then. The snow was stacked up so high that I couldn't see the steps. All I could see was the top of William's car.

"Power lines are fine."

I found some irony in that. That meant I could do some work from home. I settled back at my place at the kitchen table.