Moonlight Kisses

wrong place, wrong time

jordyn.

My fingers never stopped fiddling with the heart pendant centered between my collarbones. My mind never stopped thinking about him and what almost happened.

I almost kissed him.

His lips were almost touching mine.

And I didn't hate it.

The lapse wasn't temporary this time around. It wasn't even a lapse. Because even though whatever game we're playing could be so damaging in so many ways to the people around us, everything about last night felt right. The thoughts that lured my mind back to Beau were anything but temporary. I thought of him. I imagined him. I dreamt of him.

I've never had it this bad, let alone for someone who's been cruel to me from the moment we met. Up until the night we danced at the winter formal, I never saw another side of him than the calloused bastard everyone accepted him to be. He's only been nice to me for what? All of one week?

Then again, someone who's been nice to me for the past 4 months proved himself to be the cruelest person I know.

So maybe I should cut myself and Beau some slack.

I have a sure feeling Beau's niceties are genuine, despite how few and far between they tend to be. If he had the same sickening ulterior motive as Jake, he had the opportunity to follow through on that the night of the after party, where I practically begged him to have sex with me. But he turned me down. Someone as headstrong as Jake would've pounced on that opportunity in a heartbeat, which unsettles me to say the least.

I feel oddly safe with Beau. I don't feel pressured. Or forced. Everything is on my own accord and that both reassures and terrifies me. Reassures me that he'll never take advantage of me. Terrifies me because I know I have no hold over my own logic when I'm with Beau. When I'm with him I feel dangerous and bold. Two things I could never be when I'm alone. I could be reckless when I'm with Beau and I just know that it'll land me in deep shit one of these days.

But until then...

Friends we'll remain. We're not hormonal 12-year-olds; I'd like to think we could have some self-control.

Doing so gets harder the moment we're trapped in a car together later that afternoon. The same strain that kept us apart last night returned with a vengeance. I wanted more than anything to just pounce on him and kiss those soft lips, but restraint. So we got nothing more than a few side-eye glances and smirks from the other person.

Some friends could have sexual tension right?

By the time we got home, my self-discipline had worn dangerously thin. Not even Sophie's babbling could distract me.

Instead of driving straight home like the obedient daughter I clearly am not, I drove to a nearby park to walk around, clear my head before Kat could attempt to claw any confessions out of me.

It's not as cold as it should be for a winter evening. There's a bearable chill in the air, but a sweater isn't necessary if you're going to be walking around. Small children run around the play structure while their parents keep a hovering eye from the benches. There's a significant amount of people walking their dogs, jogging, on a stroll with their friends. So many people with so many things swirling in their minds. Like the woman sitting apart from all the chaos, just wordlessly watching the passersby. I wonder what's going through her head as she scans over the middle aged man walking five dogs. As he's getting pulled along by the rambunctious group, what is he thinking about? Or the young couple walking past him, side by side but distant and not speaking to one another.