Free Kiss the Tiger by Raquel Lyon Page A

slid up the back of his T-shirt. He reached behind
and pulled them back down. “Uh-uh. No touching.” My eyes dropped, guiltily. “If
I’m not allowed to touch you, you’re not allowed to touch me. It’s only fair. And
besides, if you start touching some parts of me, others are going to want the
same attention.”
    I looked up and bit my lip,
imagining myself doing just that. “Sorry.”
    For one brief moment, our eyes
locked, before he cleared his throat and released my hands. “Unless you want to
end up as smashed as the rest of this building, I suggest we move away from the
edge. Let’s sit down over there.”
    Slightly shaken, I let him lead
me to a flat stretch of sandy ground shadowed by a broken column. He slipped my
bag from my shoulder and took out the rolled up towel I’d stuffed into the top.
    “You came prepared,” he said, as
he laid it on the ground.
    “I’m a good girl scout.”
    He sat down. “I don’t suppose
you’ve got a drink in there too? I’m parched and I forgot to bring one.”
    I nodded, pulling out a bottle of
water and passing it over. He took three long slugs and passed it back.
“Thanks.”
    I stared at the rim of the bottle
that had just been in Josh’s mouth, and envied it. I needed to know if he
tasted as good as he looked, so I wrapped my lips around the traces of his
saliva.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I
saw him watching as I drank him in. When I licked the thread clean and replaced
the cap, he was still staring. Hadn’t he seen anyone have a drink before?
“What?” I asked.
    “Nothing. Just wishing that
bottle was me,” he said with a seductive smile.
    “Well don’t look at me like
that.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like you want me.”
    “I do.”
    Did he really just say that? “Why?
Why do you want me now, when you didn’t even notice me at college?”
    “I noticed you. I told you. I was
gonna ask you out.”
    “But you didn’t.”
    “I was going to.”
    “But you didn’t,” I stressed.
    “No.”
    “Are you going to tell me why?”
    He shifted uncomfortably on the
towel. “Do you remember Aaron…and Lenny?”
    I did. Lenny had come on to me,
one juiced up night in a bar. His pick-up line was that I looked like Madonna,
and if he hired a pointed bra from the costume shop, could I sing Like a
Virgin while he screwed me? I’d told him I was tone deaf, and walked away.
Aaron was equally as crude. One Saturday, in the bowling alley, I was trying to
fit my fingers into the bowling ball, without breaking the fingernails I’d
taken the last three months to grow. He was in the next lane, finding my
struggle highly amusing. He shouted out that I should be used to sticking my
fingers in holes, and perhaps I’d like him to give me a few pointers, back at
his place. Needless to say, I declined his offer.
    “Vaguely,” I said.
    “You turned them both down, flat.
I know. They told me.”
    “And you never thought that maybe
they weren’t my type?” I only wanted you.
    “They were top guys; the chicks
loved them.”
    “Not this one. Anyway, why would
you care?”
    “I don’t like rejection.” He
wiped the sweat from his palms on the legs of his shorts, as I tried to imagine
any girl rejecting him. Somehow, I couldn’t see it. “But then you got under my
skin. Everywhere I went, you were there.”
    Whoops . I clearly needed
to brush up on my stalking skills.
    “Finally, I decided, fuck it.
Give it a shot. She can only blow you off too. Plan was to corner you on New
Year’s Eve and kiss you until you said yes.”
    “Great plan.”
    “I thought so.”
    “Plan went wrong.”
    “Yep.”
    “You found me with someone else.”
    “Exactly.”
    “And then you hated me.”
    “No I didn’t. Is that what you
think? I’ve never hated you. I hated my brother for what he did. It changed
everything.”
    “But the way you looked at me…so repulsed.”
    “With my brother, not you. I know
what he’s like, and when I saw him with you, I snapped. What he did