Megan Hart - Switch

Internet porn site, true, but al my breath disappeared

when I opened them. He'd done this for me. Because of

me.

Powerful stuff.

Dinner was, if you'l pardon the pun, anticlimactic after

that. He took me to a nice new Mexican restaurant where

we drank margaritas and listened to a very good mariachi

band while we shared first-date stories as though he'd

never been on his knees in front of me.

never been on his knees in front of me.

He kissed me in the elevator when it reached his floor.

One smal, sweet kiss, lips closed. A hand on my waist. A

gentle squeeze. When the door started to close, he

laughed and hopped off through. He watched me as it

shut, until the last thing I saw was his smile through the

crack.

When I got home, my phone rang. It wasn't the expected

text from Eric relating the details of the date, though I had

left him a list of topics I wanted essays on. It was the other

man in my life, the one I couldn't throw away and didn't

want to keep.

"I'm downstairs. I just wanted to tel you, I'm coming up."

"Oh, no, you're not." I cradled the phone against my

shoulder and looked in the mirror. I'd been unbuttoning my

shirt but now I stopped. "I'l meet you at the Mocha in

fifteen minutes."

"No way!"

"Way," I said firmly.

Silence as neither of us gave in. Wel, silence as I waited

Silence as neither of us gave in. Wel, silence as I waited

for him to refuse so I could hang up. Austin sighed, finaly.

"Fine. I'l meet you there."

I didn't change my clothes. I wanted him to see me al

dressed up and wonder why. Yes, it was bitchy. Yes, it

was unnecessary. But I was hardly going to toss on a pair

of grungy sweatpants and a pair of sneakers to greet him.

It didn't matter that Austin had already seen me at my

worst.

You might imagine the audience for caffeine would

diminish after nine at night, but not in the Mocha. People

hunched over their refilable mugs, mainlining high-

powered flavored coffees and clutching at specialty drinks

as they chatted in smal groups and played board games.

Soft music, something indie and folksy that would make

my ears bleed if I paid too much attention to it, drifted out

of the speakers.

I spotted Austin right away. His faded denim stood out

from the rest of the skinny jeans and flat-ironed-hair boys,

and he didn't wear a speck of guyliner. His hair had grown

long enough now to pul back in a ponytail at the nape of

his neck. He was carrying two big cups.

his neck. He was carrying two big cups.

When he saw me, his face lit up, so much the way it used

to that my heart hurt. I swalowed hard against the rush of

memories threatening to topple me right then and there. He

handed me a mug and gestured toward a love seat set

toward the back of the shop.

"Sit?"

He asked, didn't tel, so I nodded. "Sure."

I had time to compare first-date awkwardnesses as he

folowed me. My dinner with Eric had been thick with

tension, but with Austin at my back al I could think of was

how uncomfortable it felt to not know what to say. I sat

and warmed my hands on the cup, which was almost too

hot for comfort.

"You look pretty."

"Thanks."

We both sipped. Austin put his mug on the table and dug

in his pocket for something he held out to me. "Here."

I didn't take it at first. "What is it?"

I didn't take it at first. "What is it?"

He held it out again. "Just something they were giving out

at the bank when I signed up for a new checking account.

Made me think of you."

"Is it money?" I took it, not money but a smal clear plastic bottle.

Hand sanitizer, the bottle imprinted with the bank logo.

Just a smal bottle, only enough for one or two uses. I

clutched it in my palm and didn't know what to say.

"I thought you'd laugh," Austin said when I didn't make a

sound. "Shit, Paige. I'm sorry. I just thought—"

"I know what you thought. Why you thought it." I tucked it into my bag.

"It's just…you know. Your thing."

He did know me. I hadn't believed he did. Maybe I hadn't

wanted to believe.

"Thank you."

More awkward silence.

More awkward silence.

When he finaly spoke, it was in a man's voice and not the

familiar voice of the boy I'd falen in love with. It helped, a

little. Made him more of a stranger than he was, so I could

keep him just far enough away not to leap into his arms.

"Paige," Austin said. "I just wanted to tel you that I'm realy sorry."

I didn't know I was going to touch him until it was too late

to pul back my hand. His hair was soft beneath my

fingers, and I let them drift over it and down to tug the

ponytail he'd never have worn in high school. "Shit

happens."

He laughed and looked down. "Yeah. Wel, with us, a lot

of shit happened, huh?"

I took my hand away and shrugged. "We were young."

"Young, dumb…"

"And ful of come," we finished together, quoting one of

our favorite movies.

It felt good to laugh with him. It had been a realy long time

It felt good to laugh with him. It had been a realy long time

since we'd sat like this. Beside me, his thigh was big and

warm. The love seat dipped from his weight, forcing me to

sit closer whether I wanted to or not. I thought I might

want to.

"I just wanted to tel you that." Austin shifted to face me.

A smart-ass, snotty reply rose to my lips, but didn't come

out. "You don't have to apologize. We've been divorced

for years."

When he reached for my hand, I shouldn't have been

surprised. It was the perfect moment, after al. Soft music,

expensive hot drinks, the scent of cheap body spray

wafting from the gaggle of out-too-late teens in the corner

and the rise and fal of their laughter al wove a John

Hughes–film mood. It was the perfect time to have my ex-

husband kiss my knuckles, look deep into my eyes and

say, with utmost seriousness,

"So, I didn't jerk off the other night. Just like you said."

I yanked my hand from his. "Austin!"

"What?" He looked genuinely confused. "You said not to."

"I know what I said." My heart became a bird, my ribs the

cage it beat against.

He sat back, frowning, and crossed his arms over a chest I

couldn't help noticing was broad and muscled under his T-

shirt. "And?"

I frowned, too. "I thought you were trying to be nice."

"I am being nice! I bought you coffee!"

"You asked me here to get me into bed!" I'd turned heads

with my raised voice. I stood and glared down at him.

"That was the only reason?"

Austin looked guilty. Then he shot me a cunt-seeking

missile of a grin. "That's not the only reason."

I jerked my chin at him and flipped my hair. Yeah, very

high school, but we had a history. "Fuck you."

"I'm hoping."

I didn't want to smile or laugh, so I bit down on my

tongue. Hard. "It's late. I have to work tomorrow. Good

night, Austin."

night, Austin."

I was gone before he could register the fact I meant it.

What Austin didn't know was that it wasn't that I didn't

want to take him to bed and screw the living daylights out

of him. I wanted that very much. But there was a part of

me, smal though it was, that knew this couldn't be good

for either one of us.

We had history, and a past, and al of that meant he knew

how to push my buttons just right. It didn't mean we

should keep pushing those buttons. Like Def Leppard