Tucker and Kara in the Cloakroom
[Continuing from here: The Welcome Feast Post]
"I like you," Kara Keating repeats. Tucker's already trying to decide if he wants to unbutton her shirt from the top button -- in which case her tie would get in the way -- or the bottom button. He starts fumbling with the bottom button. It just seems easier.
But the way she says it, like it's a warning, stays Tucker's clumsy fingers.
It is, in a way, news to him. Meaning, sure, it's obvious that she "likes" him. If she didn't, she wouldn't have followed him into a cloakroom, with what he was pretty sure was an implicit invite to have his way with her. And there was the kissing. And the touching. Yeah, he gets it: she likes him.
But LIKE-likes is different. And apparently, that's the kind of like that Kara's talking about.
"I'm glad," he blinks, making it to the level of Kara's solar plexus on her uniform's blouse. And then it occurs to him that he might not make it to the top button if he doesn't give her some kind of real response. "I didn't know. But, I'm glad. I like you, too."
More specifically, he likes the color of her hair, the way she smells, the taste of her mouth, the way she doesn't mind being spread atop a dirty old school robe, in a closet that no one remembers. That's pretty cool. He also likes how he's on top of her and how she's looking at him.
Likes it, yeah. But it makes his hands shake.
"I like you," Kara Keating repeats. Tucker's already trying to decide if he wants to unbutton her shirt from the top button -- in which case her tie would get in the way -- or the bottom button. He starts fumbling with the bottom button. It just seems easier.
But the way she says it, like it's a warning, stays Tucker's clumsy fingers.
It is, in a way, news to him. Meaning, sure, it's obvious that she "likes" him. If she didn't, she wouldn't have followed him into a cloakroom, with what he was pretty sure was an implicit invite to have his way with her. And there was the kissing. And the touching. Yeah, he gets it: she likes him.
But LIKE-likes is different. And apparently, that's the kind of like that Kara's talking about.
"I'm glad," he blinks, making it to the level of Kara's solar plexus on her uniform's blouse. And then it occurs to him that he might not make it to the top button if he doesn't give her some kind of real response. "I didn't know. But, I'm glad. I like you, too."
More specifically, he likes the color of her hair, the way she smells, the taste of her mouth, the way she doesn't mind being spread atop a dirty old school robe, in a closet that no one remembers. That's pretty cool. He also likes how he's on top of her and how she's looking at him.
Likes it, yeah. But it makes his hands shake.