John's house
It was a bad idea. She knew it. Really bad. Probably one of the worst she'd ever had, and she'd probably end up regretting it, but she knocked on the door anyway. He opened the door with a scowl. Not that she could blame him, but it was a little intimidating nonetheless.
"Yeah?"
"So explain already." Not a good start. She sounded defensive already, and she had nothing to be defensive about. She had absolutely no idea what he wanted to explain either, but he seemed to have a bee in his bonnet and if talking through what happened would allow them to move on, then she'd do it. No matter how uncomfortable it made her. But he didn't seem to notice her brusqueness and ushered her through the door and into the lounge room. "Have a seat."
"Thanks."
"Beer?" He was stalling. He knew what he needed to say, but he didn't quite know how to start. Plus she was looking at him like – well, like she had in California, and he was feeling just as ill at ease as he had then.
"Pass."
"Okay. I suppose I should get to it."
"Yeah."
He settled himself down next to her, careful not to invade her space and thought about where to begin. Nope, this wasn't uncomfortable at all. Just two friends chatting on the couch. Yeah, right. "It was a long day, remember?"
"I remember."
"And it was hot."
"It was."
"I knew you were following up a lead, so I thought why not? Just do it. She'll never know."
"Why did you want to keep it from me?" she asked curiously.
"Because it's not the kind of thing I normally do . . . it's not very . . . it's not very manly, is it?"
Monica tried to hide her amusement. She'd never understand the strange codes that some men seemed to live by. "I don't know about that. I don't see why it shouldn't be."
"I'm just not that kind of person," he continued, trying to ignore the faint smile that she wore. "But something about it seemed so . . . alluring at the time."
"Are you telling me you've never . . .?"
"Sure, I've done it before, but not since I was a kid."
"A long time," she mused, and wondered if maybe he wouldn't scowl so much if he indulged more often.
"Yeah. So I figured what the hell. I just did it."
"You liked it."
"Yes, I did okay. I more than liked it."
"Welcome to the club."
"There's a club now?"
She laughed, and it eased the tension that had been growing considerably thicker ever since John had started his story. "Not literally. But I also enjoy doing it."
"You do?" He looked at her with a half smile playing on his lips, and a warmth that began somewhere in the pit of her stomach began spreading throughout her body under his scrutiny. "Yeah, I can see that."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, John."
"No? Try tellin' that to the guys."
"The 'guys'? What guys?"
"Any guys. I wouldn't hear the end of it."
"So you're going to let some 'guys' dictate to you how you live your life? You're going to let them stop you from doing something you enjoy just because they might make fun of you?"
"Somethin' like that," he mumbled.
"I expected more from you, John."
He stopped breathing for a moment before he answered. "Seems like I can't stop disappointin' you."
"You've never disappointed me," she said softly.
"No? What about California – the reason for this whole talk, remember?"
He thought he was a disappointment? Was he kidding? "You didn't disappoint me John. I was just – surprised, that's all. I didn't handle it very well."
"Ah, so that was a look of surprise on your face. And here I was thinking it was abject horror."
"Horror? John, I really don't know what you're talking about. In fact I'm not even sure we're talking about the same thing anymore. Why would I be horrified by what . . . " she swallowed heavily before she could continue. ". . . by what I saw?"
"Because you're a woman and you know that these things matter."
"What things? I don't understand –"
John slapped the side of the couch in frustration. If she would just shut up for five seconds then he could spit it out and then crawl under a rock and hide for a decade or two. If she would just shut up and stop looking at him like he'd grown another head – which, when he came to think of it, was infinitely better than the looks she'd been giving him for the past two days, then he could finish the lame-ass story that he was beginning to think he never should have started in the first place. Yeah, if she didn't talk and didn't look at him then he'd be fine.
tbc