All the Wrong Choices by C.A. Harms

Chapter Twelve

Danielle

I should be humiliated,and in a way, I am. I mean, I puked on the guy's shoes, not just once but over and over. I was like a possessed human expelling green goo; it was horrifying. But he was amazing about it. He never cringed or made comments. In fact, he skipped right over it like it never happened.

The night ended with Jonah following me home, per his request. I think it was just so he would know where I live, and honestly, I'm okay with it. When he walked me to my door and gave me a hug before waiting for me to step inside and close the door behind me, I knew he was a good guy.

It still doesn't change the fact that I do not intend to venture into relationship territory. I have no intentions of going down that path, but we can be friends. Friends are okay.

Monday is long and treacherous; with the end of the semester nearing, I have so many of my students who have screwed off throughout the year, now trying to use the last week to get a passing grade. I'm an easy teacher to get along with, and I give my students more than enough chances to get extra points on papers they may not have done so well on. I mean, I give them back their failed papers and tell them to correct the answers for a second chance at a better grade. It's not my fault if they decide redoing something is a waste of their time.

So, needless to say, when I have several of them begging me for extra credit or anything they can do in order to raise their grades a week prior to final grades being posted, I'm not so keen on helping them. They dug their own ditch, and now they have to face the consequences.

I pack my bag at the end of the day and turn off my lights, exiting my classroom. Saying goodbye to a few other teachers, I exit the building and walk toward the parking lot.

It's cloudy outside, but the weather is still nice. A light breeze makes the trees rustle, and the sound of it whistling around me is somewhat relaxing. I imagine being home in a warm bubble bath and a glass of my favorite wine. Maybe even a good book or a movie. I’ve had a craving for Thai, and I decide to pick some up on the way home.

I climb in my car and toss my bag to the passenger seat, and just as I start the engine, my phone beeps with an incoming message.

Unknown: I was considering picking up something for dinner and stopping by as a surprise, but then I thought maybe I should ask first.

I stare at my screen, already knowing who it is but not yet responding. Did I want him to come over? Suddenly I'm trying to remember in what condition I left my apartment this morning when I rushed out ten minutes late for work.

Unknown: This is me asking?

I wait for the panic to rush over me. I waited for the doubt I thought I'd be feeling, but nothing came.

Unknown: Your choice?

I smile at his sweet attempt to convince me. Quickly my fingers are typing out a message and hitting send before I have the chance to stop myself.

Me: Thai? I have the perfect wine to go with it.

I save the unknown number on my phone, and when his name shows up on the screen with a new message, I feel a spike of adrenaline race through me.

Jonah: Give me an hour.

Giddiness engulfs me, which is surprising. But honestly, it feels amazing to have something to look forward to rather than going home to an empty apartment. I adore Addison, but lately, she's been preoccupied with Tony, so I see her less often. I am happy for her, Tony seems like a really great guy, but it makes my own life a little less entertaining.

I knew my friends hovering and spoiling me could only last so long. They all have lives, and they have boyfriends or Toy-friends as Molly calls them. I don't expect them to keep me entertained on a daily basis; that isn't up to them.

When I get home, I hurry upstairs, jump in the shower for a quick wash and then put on my most favorite lounging clothes: drawstring knit shorts and a matching off-the-shoulder shirt with a cropped tank underneath. And because my feet are always so cold, I slip on my cozy socks too. I want to be comfortable, not alluring. This is a friendly hangout, nothing more.

I do a quick sweep of my apartment ensuring nothing embarrassing is lying around. I'm just finishing loading my dishwasher when there is a knock on my door. I pause, staring at the unopened door, my heart racing a little faster than before. Suddenly the idea of having Jonah here, in my home, in my space, makes everything so much more real.

Wiping off my damp hands, I fold the towel laying it over the edge of the sink, and start walking toward the door.

Another knock sounds, and just for good measure, I peek through the peephole. I feel an instant rush of excitement when I see him standing there in a pair of jogger pants and a t-shirt. He apparently had the same idea as me, comfort. But he is also rocking the sexy too. How can a man look so good in a pair of sweats?

Attempting to slow my pulse down, I take in a few deep breaths, and then I open the door. I enjoy immensely, more than I should, the way his eyes scan over my body, and a smile tugs at his lips. "I was hoping I wasn't underdressed."

"I was hoping the same thing, but it looks like we both had the same thought."

"Yeah, eating so much you need elastic waistbands so they'll stretch."

My smile widens, "Exactly."

Things feel so easy with Jonah, and he doesn't make me feel like I have to maintain a certain image or that I can't gather my hair up on top of my head and have him look at me like I'm nothing more than a mess. For the first time in so long, I feel comfortable in my own skin, relaxed.

Stepping aside, I let him enter and notice then he has multiple bags. "I forgot to ask you what you wanted, so I got a little bit of everything, hoping to get it right."

"One thing you will learn very quickly about me is I'm not picky," honestly, I can eat just about anything.

I stand to the side and watch as he begins to pull one container after another out of the bags and set them on the countertop. The yummy smells are filtrating through the air and making my stomach growl instantly. Jonah offers me a smile, and I laugh before spinning around and grabbing the plates out of the cabinet.

Opening the lids, I zone in on the orange chicken, and without thinking, I grab a piece right out of the container and pop it into my mouth, and begin to happily chew. Then it hit me this isn't Addison and me sharing a meal where we simply dig in with no shame.

Covering my mouth, I look over to find Jonah watching me. "I'm sorry," I mumble around, a mouth full. How disgusting I just stuck my finger in food that he is probably eating too. "I'm so used to Addison and me just using our fingers; I wasn't thinking."

I lower my hand and start to chew; only he surprises me by reaching inside the container and doing the same thing I'd just done. Smiling around a mouth full, I'm again reminded this man is nothing like Matthew. I don't have to be proper and stone-like; I can relax.

Side by side, we sit at the counter, using my barstools. I don't really have the space for a table which has always been all right for me. It also allows us to sit close, which isn't bad either. Jonah radiates that manly vibe I find I'm quite fond of being near. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a strong, defined jaw.

Yeah, he does things to my libido. It is pointless to pretend otherwise.

"How is it working so close to family?"

"Most days, I don't see my dad or sister unless I stop over there or vice versa. Most of our patients are separate, but there is the occasion where we consult. My sister looks for all the ways she can torment me, but mostly we stay pretty busy."

"And your sister is older?"

"Younger," Jonah turns his body to face mine more, his knees parted so that I am sitting between them. With one arm stretched out on the countertop, the other resting on his thigh, we carry on with one topic after the next. Honestly, the conversation with him is so easy. There aren't those awkward silent pauses where we are both scrambling to fill the void. We laugh and joke like we've been doing it a lot longer than a combination of several hours between all our interactions.

I discover Tony and Jonah have been best friends since fourth grade when they got into a fistfight over a mutual crush named Natalie Rein, Natalie ended up not liking either of them and liking a boy named Hector instead.

When Jonah laughs, it reaches his eyes and they wrinkle a little around the outer edges. Which only makes me enjoy his presence even more. He's so calm yet intense at the same time. But nothing is forced; it all seems so natural.

"That was the start of a united front," he chuckles.

"What the anti-girls front?"

"No," he trails his finger over my knee, and immediately my skin breaks out with little goosebumps. "We both very much like girls, just not that girl."

"So it was an anti-Natalie club?" I just need something else to focus on besides the way his fingers feel on my leg. Part of me, a big part, wants nothing more than to rub up on him and gain as much friction as possible. It has been a long time since I've been touched, and yes, I'm craving a little attention. Okay, maybe a lot of attention.

"Thank you for dinner," I whisper, feeling myself growing a little weakened by the rush of need filling me. I look away from the place his hand rests on my knee and find him looking directly at me.

"You're welcome," he holds my stare, a moment of heat passing between us. It really should be illegal for this man to be this handsome. "Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me."

Smiling because when looking at him, it's impossible not to, he slides his palm a little higher, coming to rest on my thigh. I find myself leaning in closer as if any reservations I may feel no longer matter. I know what it feels like to be kissed by him, and yes, I want to feel those things again. Even if it’s only a physical connection. Right now, it's all I have to offer, and my control is beginning to slip.

Our lips touch in a slow tantalizing kiss. Nothing about it is rushed—a slow, easy kiss, a thrilling empowering moment that is racing through me like a tidal wave. A kiss I can feel in every fiber of my body. My nipples harden, my breath quickens, and I fight the urge to climb into his lap and grind against him.

"This isn't what I came over here for," his whispered words tickle my lips. "I just wanted to spend time with you."

I have a decision to make, one that will decide my future. A turning point between what I'm willing to give and what I may never be able to offer. But I'm not the only one with a choice to make; he too needs to decide if this will be enough.

"I can't give you more than this," I confess, pulling away just enough to be able to see his expression. I need to be able to see him and know this is okay. "Right now, I don't have it in me to give my all to someone, and to be honest; I'm not sure I'll ever reach a time when I can. Something changed inside of me on that day, Jonah. I'm not capable of anything more than casual. So I'd understand if you want more, I won't blame you if this isn't what—"

He crushes his lips to mine, and for a moment, I'm completely lost in the kiss. Forgetting the words I spoke, losing track of the thoughts I have rolling around in my head. The only thing I can manage right now is how I'm thoroughly being kissed and how my head is growing fuzzy from it.

The movement of his tongue against mine, the way his hand has now gripped my hip as he stands and moves his own body closer toward my own. He cups the back of my neck with his other hand as he holds me in place.

It's a consuming kiss.

"I told you once already, Dani, I'll give you anything you want."