See Dot Smile

Damage Control

"Oh my God." My face must be scarlet red. He can't stop laughing. What the fuck?

"I'm sorry," he hiccups. "Dot, that was so--"

"What the hell is so funny?" I yank my bra straps up and avoid his eyes as I search for my t-shirt.

He grabs me around the waist and pulls me against him. "Dot, don't leave, please ... I'm sorry. That was ... so amazing ... I'm not ..." He. Can't. Stop. "Laughing at you, I promise."

I try to escape his lap, but he's not having it. "Let me go!" I growl. "I'm so embarrassed I want to die right now."

"No, please," he says, coming down off his high. "I won't make you stay. But I want you to. For a minute. Sometimes I just need a minute after..." He breathes in. And out. His hands are resting softly over my ribcage. Not holding me there. Just keeping the connection.

He gazes up into my face and a massive smile spreads across his.

"What?!" I ask, still unable to shake the humiliation his laughter dumped on me.

"You're amazing." A bubble of amusement lingers in his voice. "Seriously, Dot. You are... amazing." His face melts into admiration. He lifts one hand to my chin and leans in for a kiss. I don't stop him, and it's a good thing. It's a phenomenal kiss. 

Long and slow and deep.

My knees tighten over his legs, and a small laugh blows across his lips and into my slightly open mouth. "Please don't run away," he says, his face rosier, with a hint of embarrassment of its own. "I need to do some ...uh ... damage control? With your pajama pants." He winces, waiting for me to be disgusted. I'm not. But I did forget about this part. Not much cleanup involved when you're a gal flying solo. "Do you think my clothes are done in the dryer?" he asks.

I have no idea how much time has passed since I put his wet clothes in there. I don't even know if we're still on planet earth. I manage a nod and start to climb off his lap. He takes both my hands in his and stands up with me.

"Don't look down," he says, smiling sheepishly. "Eyes up here."

I giggle, deciding he's the more embarrassed person between us.

"I'll be back in a few. And I hope you'll still be here. I mean, it's your house, so I assume you'll... you know." He lets go of my hands and starts for the laundry room door. "Don't watch me walk right now, please. I'm dealing with something."

I full out laugh this time and cover my eyes for his benefit until I hear him open the dryer in the next room. I take a full breath for the first time in ages.

Holy shit. What just happened?

I realize I'm standing in my sports bra and spot my abandoned shirt on the floor. I pick it up and head to the bathroom to ... I don't know ... not be standing here awkwardly in the wake of our tryst waiting for Joshua to do whatever "damage control" is in the other room.

I glance at myself in the bathroom mirror. 

I look hot. 

Flushed cheeks, mussed hair, lips all puffy from kissing. I never look this good. This is Joshua's magic. His spell over me. 

My God, Joshua. 

J o s h u a....

I wash my hands to kill time. And yeah, maybe to keep him waiting a little bit. But when I head back into the main room, he's not there. The laundry room door is open, washing machine kicked on, and the lights are off.

Did he leave? My stomach somersaults. He did. He freaked out. He regrets it. He's gone.

Shit. Shit. Shit.