Dre Arrives

Mara took a deep breath and opened the front door. Dre stood there looking even better than his profile pictures. He was tall — really tall — and built like he spent every morning in the gym. He wore a simple black t-shirt that stretched across his chest and dark jeans. His smile was confident. Like he already knew how this night was going to end.

"Damn," Dre said, his eyes slowly travelling down her body and back up again. "You look even better in person."

"Thanks," Mara said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She stepped aside. "Come in. Do you want a drink? I've got wine open already or there's beers in the fridge."

"I'll take a beer," Dre said, stepping inside. He moved like he owned the place already. Mara noticed how small her hallway felt with him in it.

She walked to the kitchen, hyper-aware of how short her dress was and the fact that she had nothing on underneath it. This was fine. They were just going to hang out. She'd explain that she wasn't really looking to hook up tonight — she'd just gotten out of a relationship literally hours ago — and he'd understand. He seemed like a reasonable guy.

Mara handed him the beer and poured herself another glass of Merlot. Her fourth. Maybe fifth. She'd lost count. They moved to the couch and Mara sat down, crossing her legs tightly and pulling the hem of her dress down as far as it would go.

"So," she started, trying to sound casual. "Look, I should probably say—"

"Relax," Dre said. He took a sip of his beer and leaned back, spreading one arm across the back of the couch. Not touching her. But close. "I'm not gonna do anything you don't want me to do. We can just talk."

Mara felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. See? This was fine. Just two adults having a drink and a chat. Nothing wrong with that. She took a big gulp of wine.

They talked. Dre was actually funny. He asked about Hugh and Mara found herself venting — about the staying out late, about Elaine, about how Hugh had stopped putting in any effort months ago. Dre listened and nodded and said all the right things. Told her she deserved better. That Hugh was an idiot. That any man who had a woman like her at home and still went looking elsewhere needed his head checked.

Mara was laughing at something Dre said when she realized how close they'd gotten on the couch. His arm was no longer on the back of the cushion — it was resting behind her shoulders. Their knees were touching. She could smell his cologne. Something woody and expensive.

"You good?" Dre asked, his voice lower now.

"Yeah," Mara said. She didn't move away. "I just — I should tell you that I'm not going to sleep with you tonight. I just got out of a relationship and I don't think—"

"I told you," Dre said. His hand came up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. His fingers were warm against her cheek. "Nothing you don't want."

Mara swallowed. His hand stayed on her face. His thumb traced her jawline slowly. It was such a small touch but it sent electricity straight down between her legs. She thought about how long it had been since Hugh had touched her like this. Like he actually wanted her.

"Can I kiss you?" Dre asked.

Mara told herself that a kiss was just a kiss. It didn't mean anything. People kissed all the time. It wasn't sex. She was still in control.

"Okay," she whispered. "Just a kiss."

Dre leaned in and his lips met hers. Soft at first. Testing. Then deeper. His hand slid from her jaw to the back of her neck and pulled her closer. Mara heard herself let out a small moan into his mouth before she could stop it. His other hand found her bare knee and rested there. Heavy and warm. Not moving higher. Just... there.

Mara pulled back, breathing harder than she wanted to admit. "Okay," she said. "That was— okay."

Dre smiled. He didn't push. He just looked at her with those dark eyes and took another casual sip of his beer like he hadn't just made her entire body light up from one kiss.

Mara reached for her wine and drained the glass. Her heart was hammering. Between her legs she could feel how wet she already was — still worked up from earlier, from the messages, from the failed vibrator attempt. And now from that kiss. God, that kiss.

"One more?" she heard herself say.

Dre set his beer on the coffee table without breaking eye contact. "Come here then."

This time Mara leaned into him. The kiss was harder, hungrier. His hand moved from her knee up her thigh — just a few inches — and squeezed. Mara gasped and her legs uncrossed on instinct. Dre's tongue found hers and she melted into it, her hand gripping the front of his t-shirt.

His fingers crept higher. Mara knew she should stop him. Close her legs. Say something. But her body was screaming at her louder than her brain was. Just a little higher and he'd find out she wasn't wearing anything underneath this dress. And then what? Then they were just two adults who—

Dre's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He ignored it. Kept kissing her. His hand stayed where it was on her thigh, thumb drawing slow circles on her inner leg.

Then Mara's phone lit up on the coffee table. She caught the name on the screen in her peripheral vision.

Hugh.

Mara froze. Dre felt it and pulled back. He glanced at the phone, then back at her.

"You wanna get that?" he asked. No jealousy. No pressure. Just a question.

Mara stared at Hugh's name glowing on her screen. He was calling her. Actually calling. Probably saw her Facebook status. Probably wanted to apologize. Probably wanted to come home.

She looked at Dre. At his hand on her thigh. At the outline she could already see pressing against his jeans.

She looked back at the phone.

"No," Mara said, and she reached for Dre's hand and slid it higher up her thigh. His fingers met bare skin where underwear should have been and his eyebrows raised just slightly. That confident smile spread across his face.

"That's my girl," he said.

Hugh's call went to voicemail.