Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(18)

I wish I could explain to him all the reasons why I don’t want to go on another date with him. But there are way too many reasons not to go on another date, as opposed to only one reason why I should.

Jake squeezes the back of his neck and then leans forward, folding his arms over the table again. “Maggie,” he says. “I’ve been out of practice when it comes to this whole dating thing. But…I feel like you like me. Do you like me? Or am I just blinded to your disinterest because I’m insanely attracted to you?”

Ugh. I can’t help the smile that forces its way out. I can also feel myself blushing over the fact that he’s insanely attracted to me. “I do like you. And…” This is so hard for me to say. Flirting is so foreign to me. “I’m insanely attracted to you, too. But I don’t want to date you after tonight. It’s nothing personal. I want to live in the moment, and right now, another serious relationship is not a part of my moment. I’ve been there, done that. I have other plans for my life.”

Jake looks both intrigued and disappointed in my answer, if that’s even possible to feel both things at once. He nods and says, “So this is it? I leave a tip on the table and then I drive you home and drop you off and we never see each other again?”

I bite my bottom lip, because knowing it’s now or never makes me nervous. I either use this moment to mark off another item on my bucket list or I wake up tomorrow regretting that I was too scared to ask him to come over.

I’m not scared. I can do this. I am Maggie fucking Carson. I am the girl who jumped out of an airplane and raced a sports car in the same day.

I swallow the last shred of shyness and look him in the eyes. “This date doesn’t have to end when we pull into my driveway.”

I can see the immediate change in his demeanor. I can see his intrigue and his attraction and his hope, all settled behind his eyes that are staring at my mouth. He lowers his voice a little and says, “When, exactly, does it have to end?”

Holy shit. This is actually happening. Bucket list item number eight, practically in the bag.

“How about we just live in the moment?” I suggest. “And then when that moment is over, you go home and I fall asleep.”

The corner of his mouth curls into a grin. Then he pulls out his wallet and lays a tip on the table. He stands up and offers me his hand. I slip my fingers through his, and we leave the restaurant, living in the moment and not a second beyond it.





I roll over to see if he’s gone as soon as I open my eyes.

He is.

I run my hand over his pillow, wondering how someone can feel so full of emptiness.

Last night was… Well… It was bucket-list worthy, that’s for sure. As soon as we left the restaurant, we headed to my house. He let me drive. We talked about cars, my thesis, that I want to try bungee jumping. He offered to take me, but realized he was essentially asking me out on another date, so he corrected himself and told me a place he thinks I should try. When we got to my house, we were both laughing as we walked inside because the sprinklers came on as soon as we got out of the car, the spray of water hitting us both right in the face. I walked to my kitchen and grabbed a hand-towel to dry my face. Jake followed me, and when I handed him the towel to use, he tossed it over his shoulder and reached for me, kissing me like he’d been waiting to do it since the moment he laid eyes on me.

It was unexpected, but wanted, and even though I felt every single thing while his mouth was on mine, I was also full of uncertainty. I’ve only been with two people sexually in my life, and I was in love during both of those relationships. This was the first time I was about to have sex with someone I wasn’t in love with. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but knowing he didn’t either made me feel more at ease. I kept reminding myself of that with every new part of my neck he kissed.

After about fifteen minutes of full-on making out with him, something switched in me. I don’t know how he did it, but he was so attentive and into it, that all my concerns and insecurities eventually fell away with my clothing. By the time we made it to the bedroom, I was all in. And then he was all in, in more ways than one.

It was everything. Afterward, we rolled onto our backs, and just when I thought he was getting ready to leave, he turned his head and looked at me. “Are there rules to one-night stands I’m not aware of? Are we only allowed to have sex once?”

I laughed, and then he was on top of me again, and as much fun as it was the first time, the second time was even better. It was intense. And slow. And perfection.

He didn’t roll onto his back after the second time. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around me and whispered, “Goodnight,” before kissing me. I liked that he said goodnight instead of goodbye, because it took the focus off the fact that we both knew he’d be leaving before I woke up.

I just assumed I’d wake up in a state of euphoric bliss today. Not a state of melancholy.

Feeling a little down about it being over isn’t necessarily a bad thing, though. It means I couldn’t have had a better person to have my one-night stand with. Had it been anyone else, I don’t think I would have enjoyed it as much as I did. And if I hadn’t enjoyed it, I don’t feel like I’d have the right to cross it off my bucket list.

So yes, it sucks that I can’t find anything wrong with him. But it would suck even more to fall back into something I’ll just want out of eventually. I can’t put myself in another position where someone will become obligated to take care of me.