Here I Am...

I’m visiting my parents today. I’m in their basement right now, and yes, I know it’s late. I just got back from hanging out with Brad. Yes, you read right, BRAD. Haha.

The night started out pretty funny. Rini, Rhi, and I were going to the Savannah Room for this hot reggae jam that our DJ-friend invited us to, but as we walked up to the bar, it looked totally dead so we skipped off and went to the village instead.

We literally did nothing. Between Rhi and Rini gabbing out who knows what, I was on the phone talking and txt-ing with Brad all night. Rude maybe? Shit, I hope not.

After barhopping all over, we ended up eating Baklava on the street corner. Fancy, I know.

On the bright side, we met the bar manager of this HOT, undiscovered, untarnished bar just north of Wellesley. After a bit of conversation, Rhi and I decided we were going to promote for this place, throw a hot party, and monopolize north of Wellesley and make lounging-clubbing-barring the way it SHOULD be.

As sad as it sounds, I was excited cos it would be my ticket out of going to Montreal.

So as the night went on, Brad started txt-ing me lyrics from his favourite stupid song “Hotel California” ( barf, je sais) so I returned the favour with “Get Together.”

Next thing you know, I’m driving back up to the ‘burbs to meet Brad at some random Tims after dropping off the girls.

It was about 1.25AM when I pulled into the parking lot and he pulled up right beside a few seconds later. I got into his car and off we went, just driving around, doing a whole lot of nothing.

We talked for a bit here and there, and he was way more touchy-feely than normal. My face, my cheeks, and at one point, I even got a nice hand massage from him. I love them, by the way.

So one thing leads to another, and I’m on his shoulder about to call asleep.

He kisses my cheek. I kiss his neck.
I slowly move up and edge my lips closer to his, I feel his breath on me.

And right there, at 2:36AM, Brad kissed me for the first time.

And it was not good. Either he was nervous or something, but the kiss was awkward.

As we kept going, and I started showing him what I like, and he got more relaxed, we kept going. It started to get good. Really good. But I won’t lie, I was worried there for a second.

Then he kissed my forehead. When a guy kissed your forehead, he likes you. But I didn’t know what to think.

Just two days ago, he was telling me that he didn’t want a relationship and blah blah and now we’re making out AND I get a forehead kiss.
The night went on, we talked, we kissed, we talked, we kissed. And it wasn’t even making out. It was kissing. It was down-to-earth. It was passionate, not raw. It was sensual, not sexual.

As we said our goodbyes, which lasted another 20 minutes, he urged me to come tomorrow night. I finally caved in and told him I would.

As I got into my car, he looked at me, and I blew him a kiss. He caught it and blew one right back.

And as I drove off, he followed right behind me. We went our separate ways at the lights.

But I knew we’d never be too far.