Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Finger Lickin' Fifteen

Ranger and I have three things in common. We're the same age. We're both single. And we both were previously married for about ten seconds. That's where the common ground ends. I'm an open book with a lot of blank pages. His book is filled with life experience but written in disappearing ink.

I followed him to the door and watched him take his keys from the sideboard and pocket them. he pushed me to the wall, leaned in to me, and kissed me. "Later," he said, his lips brushing against mine. And he left.
It was a really great kiss, and if he'd said now, I might have been in trouble, but after a couple beats, when my heart had stopped jumping around in my chest and I wasn't pressed up against Ranger, I decided later was a scary idea.

He wrapped an arm around me and kissed me just above my ear. "There's something wrong with this picture," Ranger said. "You're in my bed a lot, but never with me."

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