He saw her extending her arm. Slowly.
He grabbed her by the wrist, and held it right there.
She moaned. A little angrily.
Then he smelled it.
It must have been her shampoo.
He recognized it. From a long time ago?
It was college. Definitely college.
A girl named Tanya Fader used the same shampoo.
He hadn’t thought about her in forever.
He could remember seeing her on his first day of classes. She wore cute girl glasses. She looked like a blonder, prettier Lisa Loeb.
But, Tanya was serious. She paid attention and took notes in class, while he alternated between eating cold pizza and napping in the back of the room. She dressed as if she was going to a board meeting. He dressed like a cross between Magnum P.I. and Mark Harmon’s character in SUMMER SCHOOL.
When they eventually hooked up, everyone was shocked. Themselves most of all.
When they came within five feet of each other, there was a passion that could not be denied. And when they touched…
When they touched, concepts like common sense, consequences and contraception went out the window.
He had been with girls before, but she was a woman.
She was the one who taught him how to satisfy a woman. Every woman he’d been with since really owed her a debt of gratitude.
He was the one who taught her how to just let go. Every man she’d be with since had been compared to him.
He was with her when he discovered his “tongue trick.”
He was with her when he discovered his addiction to the sound of a woman moaning.
Suddenly he snapped back to the present reality.
He saw his hand holding her wrist.
He wanted it so badly.
He was a good guy. He worked hard. He deserved this.
She suddenly turned around, defiance flashing in her eyes. He got another whiff of her shampoo.
“Do you want it?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yes!” She looked surprised at how loudly and how quickly that had come out of her month. “Do you?”
“I really, really do.”
She leaned in closer. She had the bluest eyes he had ever seen.
“Well, what are we going to do about this then?” She asked with a devilish grin.
Before he could open his mouth to reply, his cellphone rang.
He released her wrist and fished his phone out of his pocket.
“Shit, it’s my wife.”
When he looked back up, she was gone…
She had grabbed that last Rockstar Supernova CD off the shelf and ran to the cashier.
“Crap!” He said into his phone. “What? Sorry, sweetie. I’m going to be a bit late for dinner. I have to try another record store.”