Gale
Avoice in the back of my brain said I was making a huge mistake, but I didn’t have the capacity to listen.
After the torment of the past few days, Ozrik had shown up at my door and announced that everything that had transpired in the Jeep was authentic.
It was not a sick joke that would come back and slap me in the face when I least expected it.
He wanted to kiss me.
Again.
For what it was worth, I believed him. Maybe I was a fool, but I was a lonely, closeted fool who had been fantasizing about this guy for weeks.
His mouth was soft, his approach gentle. I tasted reservation and did my best to act like I knew what I was doing. No, it was not my first kiss, but the first and last time I’d breached this line with someone, it ended in disaster.
I suspected Ozrik was far more experienced. Our tongues glanced once, then twice, but he didn’t advance. He didn’t push. His hand remained on my face, and he kept inches between us. Did he know what this simple act did to me?
My body sang and ached with all I’d deprived it of these past few days in my quest to avoid all thoughts of Ozrik.
Unfortunately, that denial had made the situation far worse.
One kiss, and my blood surged. Things… happened, like before, and since I didn’t want fresh mortification to ruin the moment, I ended the kiss and stepped back.
Ozrik didn’t stop my retreat but studied me. “Are you okay?”
No, I wanted to say. My galloping heart wanted to break through the cavity of my chest, and I feared my jogging pants weren’t doing me any favors. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to my nether regions by tugging my shirt lower. But things below… stood out.
“I’m not sure what happens now,” I said instead.
“What do you want to have happen?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Nor was I sure what Ozrik was offering. I might have accepted that I was gay a long time ago, but I still hadn’t come to terms with it enough to have a relationship or tell my family, for that matter.
Never mind engaging in sex. Oh, the fantasies were fantastic, but the real thing?
Not that I didn’t want to try. Some day. Sooner than later would be nice, but…
It was too much to process.
Besides, Ozrik struck me as someone who was not only highly skilled in such endeavors but also took a casual approach to that type of thing. Olivia had called him a player, and I could see that. Was that all he wanted? Sex?
I couldn’t think.
“How about this,” he said. “We’ve got a string of nasty storms moving through the Tulsa area in two days. It’s going to put us on the road again and keep us busy for a while. Can we meet somewhere tomorrow night? A place of your choosing. We can… chat.”
“Chat?” Was that a euphemism?
“Get to know each other. I don’t know.” He shrugged, looking suddenly as uncomfortable as I felt. “Unless you’d rather forget it. I’ll head home and let you live your life. No one will know what went down between us. We can pretend it never happened.”
“Tomorrow night?”
“Anywhere that you’re comfortable.”
I thought of Dad and all his unspoken suspicions.
When he’d found Ozrik at the door earlier, his studious stare told me he had questions.
A lot of questions. He no doubt remembered the photograph.
I could only guess what he might be thinking, but as was his norm, he didn’t voice his thoughts or ask questions.
At first, I’d refused to meet Ozrik at the door, but Dad wouldn’t take no for an answer.
What would he think if Ozrik returned the following evening?
I internally sighed. “Can we meet here?”
Ozrik’s smile reappeared. He agreed, and we made plans to meet at seven. We walked back to the house in silence, hopped the fence, and rounded to the driveway.
The motion sensor light came on, and Ozrik stopped at the driver’s door to his car, eyeing the Jeep. “Any damage?”
“No, but she needs a bath.”
He chuckled. “Jeeps are meant to be dirty.”
An awkward silence overtook us. Ozrik glanced at the house and then at me. As he traced his tongue over his upper lip, I wondered what he was thinking. “See you tomorrow.”
I watched as he drove down the long driveway and vanished into the night, then I headed inside. Dad was reading a book in his favorite chair in the front room, a chair angled in such a way that he could see out the front window.
He glanced over his reading glasses when I entered. When all I did was stand there, oozing discomfort and wringing my hands, he asked, “Want to talk about it?”
It would have been the perfect time to confess.
Standing face to face with my father, I had no doubt in my mind that he knew all I couldn’t say, so why was it so hard to give it a voice?
Why, when I felt so alone and afraid, could I not unburden my heart to the one person who had never judged me?
Who I knew with absolute certainty would hug me and love me the same as he always had?
I shook my head and motioned to the basement stairs. “I have some work to do.”
“Okay. Good night, kiddo.”
“Good night, Dad.”
“I’ll be here if you change your mind.”
To say I was a wreck the following evening was an understatement. I had no idea what Ozrik expected from me, nor did I know what I could give him in return. I couldn’t think about it for fear I might break out in hives.
When I insisted on an earlier dinner, Dad didn’t object.
When I told him I was going out, he didn’t ask where or with whom.
When I came from the basement at quarter to seven, showered and dressed in nice jeans and a polo with my hair combed and styled to within an inch of its life and wearing body spray I’d purchased that afternoon at the drugstore, I caught the tail edge of a smile on his lips.
He told me to have a good night and that he wouldn’t wait up.
Mortified, I wanted to balk at the suggestive tone, but I didn’t know where the night would land me, so what could I say? What if I was gone until morning? Before I broke out in a cold sweat and ruined my shirt, I shoved that thought aside.
I wasn’t a deceptive person. The notion of lying to Dad or anyone didn’t sit right.
So instead of giving him specifics or defending my honor, I omitted details he would later discover on his own.
Like, I wasn’t leaving or taking the Jeep.
That out meant the far reaches of our property and not a bar, restaurant, or motel.
Later, when he noticed Ozrik’s car in the driveway, Dad would draw his own conclusions.
I sat on the front porch with my iPad, studying Doppler maps and checking data from other websites: wind direction across the country, temperature ranges, moisture, and all the ingredients required to make a perfect storm.
I loved the science behind weather, but the field experience left much to be desired.
Although the photography opportunities were a nice bonus.
At Olivia’s request, I’d been monitoring the multiple systems developing over Tulsa that were expected over the coming week. It was officially the season for bad weather and tornadoes, and there was no shortage of activity across the Midwest.
My sister had called that afternoon to inform me that Charles had demanded we join forces with the other team in Tulsa, a fact I had learned from talking to Ozrik the previous day.
I didn’t tell Olivia that part, lest she ask when or why I’d been talking to Ozrik.
She had a habit of reading my mind, and since finding me on the side of the road the other day in a state, she was already suspicious that something had happened.
Olivia explained to Charles that blending the teams was a recipe for disaster and would cause drama, but drama was exactly what the producer wanted, and since our contracts left Charles with the final say on everything, we had no choice in the matter.
Two minutes before seven, the faint sound of tires on gravel drew my attention to the road.
Headlights shone in the distance as Ozrik turned onto the driveway.
All afternoon, I’d convinced myself he wouldn’t show up.
Only when he parked behind the Jeep did those concerns subside.
As he emerged from the car, I rose, instantly self-conscious.
My nerves spiked, and my skin warmed and buzzed like it was alive. It seemed to be a common occurrence when Ozrik was within my radius.
He eyed the house once before asking, “Is it okay if I park here? I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to leave my car on the road and out of sight or what. We didn’t talk about it.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m half convinced I’m not fooling anyone, to be honest.”
I didn’t expect the sympathetic look but appreciated it.
Collecting my camera, I slung the strap over a shoulder and tucked the iPad under my arm.
Ozrik tilted his head with a smirk. “Are you planning to take pictures in the dark?”
“Maybe. Night photography is something I’m trying to get better at. It’s tricky.”
“It’s all those damn settings?”
“Yes.” I mirrored his smile, my cheeks heating. “And relying on automatic mode doesn’t do the pictures justice.”
“I’m sure you’re a pro.” He glanced around. “Where are we headed?”
“This way.”
Ozrik followed without question as I took him in the general direction we’d gone the previous night. I could have walked the path blindfolded. Veering through the trees, a silence descended on us. Dry branches snapped under our sneakers. Night creatures rustled the undergrowth.
“I hope you know where you’re going,” Ozrik said after a while.
“I do.”
“These woods aren’t haunted, are they? I won’t get attacked by flying monkeys or anything, will I?”
I smirked. “No. You’re safe.”
“Good. Not a fan of flying monkeys.”