“If you knew my backstory you’d believe me.”
“I don’t want to know,” I say abruptly, which probably telegraphs that I absolutely do.
“A man needs a woman to care for, to feel complete. It’s something I’ve learned recently, very recently. And for that reason there’s no reason to thank me for anything.”
“I’m not sure every man would agree with that suggestion. And if you did find someone who did, the rub would be that he’s not taking care of one woman, but many women…and usually only ‘taking care’ of them in the wee hours of the night, if you know what I mean.”
“I defer to my earlier comments then. That’s not a man.”
I tip my head to the side and roll my eyes. He’s right, and agreeing with one of the reasons why I’m not interested in meeting anyone now.
“How can you give your all to one person if you’re giving a bit of yourself to everyone. You can’t, and you lower your value and never get anywhere in the process…never establishing a real bond, trust, and an unbreakable relationship.”
“I suggest you tell other men that. The world would be a better place.”
“It’s not a suggestion, it’s a rule.”
“A rule?”
“Rule. Rules make things work…better.”
I extend the distance between us, making sure to keep my body on the far edge of the sidewalk so I can’t be pulled into an alley, slammed against a wall, or anything like that. A rule? Something about it makes me uneasy, yet comforts me at the same time.
My life has always been in chaos and it never got me anywhere. I could actually use a little structure, some firm guidelines, to help me dig myself out of the hole I currently find myself in.
That said, those rules should be mine and no one else’s. Shouldn’t they?
Out of nowhere there’s commotion on the other side of the street and my neighbor moves toward me quickly.
This is it! I knew it was a trap.
I jam my shaking hand into my purse and fist my can of pepper spray, bringing it to the ready as the hottie next door steps in-between me and the other side of the street, his arms extended back behind him and his body a shield, protecting me.
Fortunately it’s only a couple of drunks tossing their beer bottles into a dumpster, but the gesture doesn’t go unrecognized.
“You have that last night?” he asks, motioning toward my pepper spray as we continue walking, my heart trying to come down from the quick shot of adrenaline.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you use it?”
“You were so fast.” And speaking of fast, just like that we’ve quickly reached our building.
He holds the door open for me but I insist he enter first, keeping him in front of me as we ascend the stairs.
Catching myself yawning as we approach our front doors, I wait for him to enter his unit first before I compromise myself by putting my keys in the door and opening it, giving him an easy entry if he wants to throw me inside and have his way with me.
“Good night,” he simply says, sliding his key in the lock without trying to kiss me as he maneuvers inside.
“Wait,” I call out. “I…I owe you an apology. I was wrong about you.”
“You don’t owe me anything, and you should keep your guard up. You don’t know me yet. Don’t relax now, that’s how they get you.”
“Who’s they?”
“I’m sure you’ve seen some of the faces in this neighborhood.”
I nod. “Well, thank you for walking me home.”