It Happened One Night

"You think I'm a cow, don't you?" I said so candidly I shocked myself. What was that?

"What?"

"I heard you, three years ago when you were in the kitchen with Matt. You said I needed to go to Weight Watchers. You think that I'm fat."

Devin didn't respond right away. A slow glow rose to his cheeks. His eyes glazed over. I glared at him, daring him to tell me a lie. He still hadn't said anything. I moved to pull my legs away when he grabbed my ankle. The way he looked at me in my eyes, I felt like I was going to faint.

"You misheard me," he said a little too softly. But I had heard him. I know what he said. "I asked your brother if you were on Weight Watchers because of all the TV dinners in the fridge. I didn't think you needed to be on Weight Watchers. I still don't think you need to be on Weight Watchers. You're perfect just as you are. I mean, what I'm trying to say is I think that you're beautiful."

I stared blankly at Devin. My stomach flipped. I couldn't deny that even though I hated him, something deep in me perked when he walked into the room. I never dreamed he could possible feel the same. He made it seem like he had never hidden his feelings to begin with. Had I been paranoid all along? I thought he hated me. Whenever I came around he would tease me about what I was reading, throwing shade when he caught my nose in Fifty Shades of Grey or bugging out when I wore dresses, calling my makeup war paint. He was always snatching things from me, playing around carefree with me, annoying the hell out of me. But just then his gaze was very serious. Under the covers his hand gripped my ankle, his thumb making gentle circles. His eyes didn't shy away from mine, they bore into me, stealing my breath away. I don't know where the hell the tension came from, but the anxiety was suddenly too much. Were our bodies getting closer? Was I leaning over or was he? What was this feeling?

Just as Paul Henried and Bette Davis were about to kiss goodbye, I shot up.

Oh god.

"Water," I said, "thirsty?"

I didn't wait for a ye or nay, I walked, or rather ran, to the kitchen. I barely flew out of my shorts, I hauled ass so fast. My knees were shaking. I think my mind needed to catch up. What was that...what was that? Did I not just hate his guts fifteen minutes ago, now I wanted him to stick his tongue down my throat? I turned on the facet and sprinkled some water on my neck. When that didn't work I stuck my whole face under the running facet. I damn near leapt out of my skin when the kitchen light flicked on.

"What are you doing?" asked Matt. Like Devin, he was also walking around shirtless. What was it with guys and wearing no shirts? Did they never get cold? Matt went straight for the refrigerator and groaned. "You ate all the chicken?"

"What? No." I turned off the facet.

He arched an eyebrow. "Are you just getting in from your date?"

"I've been home for hours, now," I said, honestly, but I felt like I was lying. I felt like my date had just begun in the den. Matt shrugged. He took a soda out of the pantry and walked back towards the stairs. He turned when he reached the hallway. He leaned back into the kitchen.

"You seen Devin?" He asked me, "he was up waiting for you to get in."

A surge of heat rushed through my body.

"Why would he be waiting up for me?"

He crossed his arms.

"You tell me," he said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Matt sighed.

"If that's the way you two are going to play it," he said, "don't ask, don't tell."

He sauntered out of the kitchen. You two?

"Wait," I called out to him.

Me and Matt had a pretty cool brother and sister relationship. We didn't hate each other like some siblings. In fact, I talked to Matt like some girls talked to their sisters. We talked about boys and girls. When Matt lost his virginity, I was the first person he told. When I smoked pot for the first time and came in high, he snuck me past mom. We were kind of like best friends, but I didn't know if he would want to talk about Devin. He popped his head back into the kitchen.

I came close to him. "Does Devin ever talk about me?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I can't get him to shut up. I almost whipped his ass once, when y'all first met. You being in high school and all, I didn't want him perving out on my kid sister. I still don't know how I feel," Matt's jaw tightened, "but I know Devin. He wouldn't dog you out. And you're in college now, you're a grown woman. You can take care of yourself. But if he does anything..."

"Calm down, Fiddo."

He ran his hand over his dreadlocks and shrugged. "Whatever."

"Matt," I called out again. He poked his head back in the kitchen and I gave him a peck on the cheek. He groaned, but he didn't wipe it off.

"Are those my socks?" He grumbled. I looked down. "Where's the right one?"

I hadn't realized that it was missing.

"Stop thieving my things."

"I love you, too."

Matt smiled and gave me a quick peck on the forehead before making his way back upstairs. My head was spinning with the news that Devin had liked me, had even spoken to Matt about me. I thought I knew how to act around him, but now I felt so unsure.

By the time I returned to the study, Bette Davis was holding Paul Henried's daughter in her arms as she sobbed about not feeling wanted. Devin had fallen asleep on the couch. I tried not to be too disappointed. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, like did he really like me or was I imagining things, but I'd have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out. I drank him in for the first time. Knowing how he felt transformed him in my eyes. He was always gorgeous, you'd have to be Stevie Wonder not to notice, but there truly was something beautiful about him. All of his sharp features had smooth edges. His muscles cut sharply across his abdomen as he took in a deep breath, but they puffed slightly as he exhaled. My eyes followed his sharp jawline to his soft mouth. His lips were slightly parted. He was developing a five o'clock shadow which gave his bookish, boyish face a rugged charm like he could read Keats and skin a bear at the same time. My heart started beating in my chest when I saw that he had my other sock in his hand. I giggled to myself, rehashing how I flew out of the study like a bat out of hell. I'd just never felt that way before, never knew I had a pulse down there between my thighs until it started beating. Richard didn't make me warm down there, not even remotely. I was feeling so blazon I could just about kiss his mouth while he was unconscious. Of course, I fought the urge. I found the remote and turned the tv off. I grabbed the edge of the quilt to bring it back over his bare chest when I felt his arms wrap around me.

He pulled me into his lap and hugged me tight, making a low, guttural sound as our lips connected. His kisses were still sweet from the soda. Years of his pent up sexual energy coursed through his hungry tongue like static electricity. Again, the sparks were almost too much to handle. I wanted to pull away, but I quivered under his viselike grip.

I was seated awkwardly, I didn't know where to put my hand, I didn't know if I was too heavy to be sitting in his lap. My hand landed on his thigh and I felt his abdomen contract. His tongue jerked against mine.

"Mmm!" I moaned when I felt what was growing beneath me. He drew me further into him, kissing me with a new fervor. I couldn't believe this was happening. This was really happening. It was moving so fast. His hand went up my shirt, he unhooked my bra. I had to believe that this wasn't all planned out, but it felt too perfect.

My nipples were so hard they could shred paper.

I became aware of the heated masculine scent radiating from him the more turned on he became. It had a potent, druglike effect on me. It made me want to reach for him. I had never touched a man there before. I seized his erection, surprised by its length and the hardness of it. I stroked my knuckles against it. A weak cry escaped his throat like an eager puppy.

I couldn't believe the effect I had on him. He was lapping it all up. A sense of power hit me.

Then he had to go and graze his hand against my back.

I winced.

The first time, he hadn't noticed. The second time, he pulled back.

"Are you alright?" he asked, huskily. I could tell he didn't want to stop. I kissed him to shut him up, but I winced again and he pulled me away.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

He lifted my shirt and I suddenly felt self-conscious about my love handles, but that wasn't what he was looking for. He saw the bruise from the incident with Richard. He rose so quick I almost fell on my butt.

"Did he do this?" Devin said so loudly, I was afraid he'd wake the whole house. I tried to shoosh him. "I'll kill him," he growled, "I'll break his neck."

My head spun. One minute he hated me, the next minute he had his hand up my shirt, now he was ready to go out on a killing spree. He was putting me through quite the voyage. The man had me all worked up and worked over.

"You'll wake up the whole house," I tried to shush him.

"I don't care," he said, belligerently. He made his way for the door and I had to think quick. I did the only thing I could to stop him. I did what my brother called a soft tackle. I cut him off at the door, stuck my foot out to trip him, and caught him, kind of, as we both went down softly onto the carpet. He wasn't quite expecting that. His face looked helpless as he went down. It took all I had in me not to burst out in laughter. "What did you do that for?"

He was breathing hard. I landed on top of him, wondering if I was crushing him, but he didn't seem to care.

"You're cute when you're mad," I said, playfully, "you should've seen your face."

I imitated his look.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it was rude to attack someone?" He was still pissed.

"You attacked me first."

He tried not to smile. The floorboards upstairs creaked. I put my hand over his mouth to silence him, as if mom could hear him breathing under her bedroom. He rolled me over and put his mouth on mine. He shifted his weight on his forearms before he deliciously positioned it on top of me. I could smell my own arousal as he parted my legs with his knees. He rubbed his body against mine, his hard-on pressing at the thin fabric of my shorts. Is this what sex was like? Spontaneous?

"Take off your bra," he ordered. I slid the straps through my shirt and tossed it across the room. He leaned his head down and teased my nipples through the fabric. His hand reached down my shorts.

"Mmm!" he devoured my moan.

His fingers sailed forth. His lips sought mine. We finally found each other.

"Annie..." My mother's voice came from down the hall. I never moved so fast in all my days. As we scrambled apart, I tried to think of how to explain what we were doing in the dark. If the movie was still playing, we'd have that to fall back on. Without the movie, the only thing that could explain two people in the dark was the playboy channel. Sorry mom, I tripped and fell on Devin's dick. I did the next most logical thing, I pushed Devin under the couch. He protested, when he thought he couldn't fit, but I knew he could. I used to hide under there as a kid. My heart was thumping in my chest, my shorts were nearly falling off, my lips were still tender from the passion he'd just laid on them. Why was she even awake? Everyone was awake. This is what happens when you wait until your freshman year of college to go on your first date, everyone treats you like you're in high school, everyone wants be sure I got home alright. I guess that wasn't anything to complain about, but it made me feel like some horny teenager. It must've been a full moon.

By the time mom reached the door I had just smoothed my hair down. She switched on the light.

"I thought I heard someone in here," she said, scanning the room like she used to scan for monsters when I was a kid, "what are you doing here in the dark?"

My mind went blank. She looked past me at Dad's old writing table.

"I haven't been in here since..." she grabbed Dad's quilt from the couch and held it in her hands, her voice was a little strained, "this place needs a dusting..." her eyes stopped on something and my pulse quickened, "is that my fried chicken?"

I was about to make an excuse but she stuck up her hand.

"I've had bad dates," I stared at her, wide-eyed, wondering how she knew, "anyone girl who comes home from a date and is still hungry has a story to tell. I was in college once. I know that if you come home hungry, either the date was a bust or you were afraid to be yourself in front of him. I know you could put back a cheeseburger or two. Are you ashamed to eat in front of men? I noticed you've been acting different lately, changing how you dress. You should always be yourself."

God, I wish Devin hadn't heard that.

"I didn't like that boy anyway," she continued, "when a young man honks for a girl and doesn't have the decency to come to the door, it speaks miles about his character. Your brother doesn't like him, neither does Devin-"

I was not having this conversation.

"Mom, it's kind of late, isn't it? Don't you think we should talk about this tomorrow?"

She blinked. "You're right, we'll do something special. Maybe manicures? It's late, dear."

I gave a sigh of relief when she went for the door but she stopped abruptly. I swallowed hard.

"You want to know something," she said, turning around. She sat on the edge of the sofa.

Fuck my life.

"I always thought you and Devin would hit it off-"

"MOM-"

"I know it's strange, but I remember a time when you couldn't stop talking about him. I remember when you used to go on and on about how you didn't know there were guys out there like him and how he couldn't be real and you remember, you told me, you thought he had the cutest tushy? Then something must've happened to make you change your mind, you grew out of crush. I asked you once if you still liked him and what was it you said...ah...he has a large head, the size of a water melon, and a pea brain." A sound came from under the sofa. She was getting ready to lean down. "Did you hear something?"

"Mom!" I practically shoved her. "It's late, really. Let's talk tomorrow. I'll tell you everything."

Her eyes narrowed for a second. Then she smiled and patted my head. She bent down and I thought it was all over, but she grabbed something. When I saw what it was she had in her hands I almost passed out. She handed me my bra. She pulled me into her arms and gave me a hug, which was just too weird. I think she was going to cry. I hoped I wouldn't need therapy for this moment but something told me the awkwardness of this moment would sear into my memories forever.

She pulled back and whispered into my ear, "You're not gay. Thank God."

Yes, I was going to need therapy.

Over her shoulder, loud enough for Devin to hear, she said "You and Devin shouldn't stay up too late. It's time you went to bed. Goodnight, you two."

We both said, "Goodnight."

After Mom closed the door, Devin slid from under the couch. We looked at each other sheepishly and laughed. I guess our moment was over, but maybe it was all for the better. Who knew what would've happened. Not to mention, neither of us had protection. I touched my lips, still a little tingly. I smiled to myself. The space between us was still charged. Devin quickly closed it. He stood in front of me, so close, I had to look up to talk to him. Our lips were close. He maintained eye contact as he leaned down to kiss me. His lips stopped short of mine and he grinned.

"I've been waiting for this, for you," he said. He needed to stop saying these things or I'd melt into the ground. He needed to kiss me. Now.

"Good night," he whispered into my mouth with a wicked smile on his face. I pouted. He reached out and stroked my cheek. "What are we watching tomorrow?"

Tomorrow?

"It Happened One Night?"

He traced his thumb over my lips. "Not yet, but it will.