All the Waters of the Earth

Chapter 3: You Need to Get Some ... Manners

I stood on Jake's stoop fuming, apoplectic, as a million thoughts ran through my head. Amidst all of my rampant thoughts was one rational truth: he didn't have to give me anything other than a reasonably polite "thank you," which he did. I had made the tamales out of the goodness of my heart and he didn't need to invite me in and fuck me in his shower, which was what I really wanted. The world didn't owe me anything. Jake didn't owe me anything, either. And I couldn't control any other person's responses to my actions, I could only control what I did in a situation.

The other part of my brain, perhaps irrational, perhaps not, ran me over and left me motionless, outside his door, thinking the following: I was fucking pissed. I had spent all morning on those. I invited a crew over to make them. I ignored my son to make them, letting him rot his brain on Minecraft. I got served by a process server while I was covered in masa as I made them. I wanted them to be my introduction to him, to his home. They were my excuse to get to know him and to talk to him. Anything other than having him just take them and close the door in my face.

Jerk. He didn't deserve any more attention from me. It hurt to be rejected like that. I thought he liked me.

I turned to walk back to my home and paused. No. I was going to tell him that he was being a jerk and that I deserved better. I turned back toward Jake's unit. I raised my hand in a fist to pound on his door and it opened before I could make contact. Jake stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"Hey," he said, running his hand behind his neck, stretching his well-defined arm.

"Hey," I responded, looking up at him, sidetracked, and trying not to drool. "You know, you need to get some manners—" I started, remembering that I was angry at him. "I worked hard on those and you don't have to like them but you didn't have to slam the door in my face for Pete's sake."

"I didn't mean to be so curt," he said, immediately. "I was on the phone with someone from work. I was coming over just now to tell you that I appreciated you bringing me them."

"Yeah, well, I thought you were a complete tool," I responded. I couldn't help it. It was true.

"So tell me what you really think," he laughed, and I shrugged in response, twirling my long brown hair around my finger. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I wasn't expecting you and I was in the middle of a conference call. I finished it just now and like I said ..." and he trailed off and started looking at me in the eyes.

And then he started looking at me in the mouth.

And then I started looking at him in his mouth and I started really wishing he would kiss me. I wanted to feel what that would feel like. I wanted to smell him. I wanted to run my hand along the back of his neck, like he did, rubbing out the tension.

He stepped forward, towering over me, and put one long arm against the wall next to me. Then he leaned in, and I knew he was going to kiss me. I closed my eyes, and ...

I felt a peck on my cheek.

My belly dropped to my toes, which wasn't a long journey. I let out a breath. Ugh. I was so disappointed.

"Thank you," he said, and turned to go into his unit.

No. This was not the way he was supposed to act. He was supposed to kiss me and sweep me away. He was not supposed to give me some cheesy, chaste kiss and apologize. I needed to fix this.

"Wait," I blurted.

He stopped and looked at me, questioningly.

"That's not the way to kiss me," I whispered, turning my face toward him.

Jake smiled, a dazzling, handsome smile that made me want to buy his brand of toothpaste, and said, "No, I suppose it isn't." He ran his finger under my chin and I went up on my tiptoes and looked him straight in his dark blue eyes. He leaned down and kissed me on the mouth, this time, for real, a lovely kiss, his mouth warm and wet, his tongue velvety, his strong hand behind my neck, holding him to me.

Now that was the proper kiss that I had wanted from him ever since I laid eyes on him a week ago. And now that I had it, I knew that I wanted more.

I invited him into my mouth, loving this shit. This was what I wanted: kissing my handsome neighbor. I wrapped my hands around his neck and felt the nape of his neck and the back of his soft, thick hair. He smelled clean, like he was just out of the shower, and like, I don't know, a hot, spicy guy. Yum, yum, yummy, yum, yum.

He took his time with this kiss, but still it was too soon when he broke apart.

"Can I take you for a drink, Lucy?"

"Yeah, that would be good," I answered, a little breathlessly, attempting to be nonchalant.

"When? Tonight?"

"No, I can't. I can go next Saturday night, though," I said, thinking about Rob's custody schedule. Carlos would have him next weekend and I was free to go out. I had a new art class to model for, though, so I wouldn't be done until about three o'clock. That was still plenty of time.

"Saturday night it is," he responded. He looked me up and down, in my high heels and my white capris and pretty, pink fluttery top. "You like to dress up?"

"Of course."

"Then dress up. I'll take you someplace nice." And he smiled his glorious smile again and leaned in, and it looked like he was going to kiss me again.

"Okay," I whispered, and as he leaned down, his god damned cell phone in his pocket sounded, and he looked at me apologetically, straightening up again.

"We'll set it up," he said, and then answered his phone. "Jake Slausen," he said, sounding commanding, and walked back into his duplex, giving me a half smile and a little wave this time as he shut the door.