He was expecting Ashley. Strumming on the guitar, the notes not quite coming out right but hey, it couldn't be turned on all the time. He heard someone coming up the steps that lead to his garage and then the knock on the door.
It wasn't Ashley.
"Paige?" Craig said, not moving to let her in, not sure what she was doing here.
"Hi, Craig. Gonna let me in or what?"
He moved aside and let her in, watching her as she moved around and picked up things here and there, looked at them and put them back. It was chilly in the garage even with his sweater and the snow was hard and glittered outside under the orange glow of the street lights. Craig shivered. Paige went to the door and locked it, turned around and looked at him with a devil's look.
"Hey, uh, Ashley's gonna be here soon…" he said, watching her pull the curtain closed, watching her set down her duffel bag by the door, blocking some of the frigid air that found its way through the cracks.
"No, she isn't. I called her and told her not to come," Paige smiled at him, her bluish eyes shiny and blank.
"What? Why?" Craig felt himself getting angry and tried to control it. The anger was like a wild animal on a frayed leash.
"So we could be alone," she started to come towards him and he backed up. He hardly spoke to this girl, hardly knew her, and as she came toward him he noticed the strong smell of whiskey coming from her pores.
"Why?" He was backed up against the wall now and she stepped up to him, grabbed his shirt in both hands and spun him around, pushed him down on the couch.
"Because I felt like it. I'm sick of Spinner, I want, I want something, someone, different,"
She was pressed up against him and he wanted to push her off of him but he didn't. She put one knee in between his legs and the other one on his thigh and pressed him into the couch and he could push her off him if he wanted to. He was bigger than she was and she was drunk. He pushed on her a little, his hands on her shoulders but she resisted the pressure and put her knee that was between his legs right up against his crotch.
"Don't push me off," she said, the whiskey smell strong and sickening on her out coming breath, and the knee against his crotch pressed in until it almost hurt.
"Paige, look…" Her knee crushing against him now and she leaned in toward him, kissed him on the lips and he didn't kiss back.
"C'mon, Craig, don't be such a prude," she said, her words almost slurred, her voice thick. She put her hand on the back of his neck and kissed him again and this time he kissed her back, tasting the whiskey, Jack Daniels wine coolers and vodka, peach tree shnapps thick and syrupy sweet.
"Paige, hey…" Her knee still pressed against him but not as hard, and the almost pain could slide into pleasure, and her hand on the back of his neck was strong, and her other hand trailed down his shirt and reached for the button on his jeans.
He knew he should get up, get her off him, not cheat on Ashley and not take advantage of a drunk girl, although she was the one who had come here out of the blue.
"Paige, stop, c'mon," He said, turning his head from her kiss as she undid his jeans with one flick of her wrist, and she reached for the zipper. He grabbed for her hand and her knee pressed in hard and he groaned, the full out paralyzing pain of being kneed in the balls crawling up to his stomach and he wanted to double over but she wouldn't let him.
"I told you," she said with drunken craftiness and he curled his hands into fists at his side to prevent himself from hurting her. She kissed him again and he kissed her back, thinking she might knee him again or do something else to hurt him, and her hand on the back of his neck went up to his hair and she grabbed a handful, ready to yank it if he disobeyed again.