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back a little stunned, while I grinned and walked away. Something raw but unspoken linked us now, but as I realized what I’d just done my courage began to fade.
    He followed me to the table and sat down between Jane and me. His intentions were clear when he began to play with my leg, tracing a delicate line along my thigh with his finger. The feeling overwhelmed me, and I wanted him to end it now. I prayed that he’d go away, and yet, I did nothing to dissuade him. In fact, I swear that I was coming on to him, inviting him with a flirty smile and taunting eyes, my body oozing sex. I nervously fumbled with my drink as he asked me questions, little insignificant personal questions that I answered coyly, as if I were seducing him with my evasive replies.
    “You think you can leave your friend here for a while, and we’ll have some fun?” he asked.
    Jane nodded at me, as if she were pushing me out the door, a mother hen to her chick.
    But suddenly, the drink didn’t feel or taste as good as it had earlier, and my stomach turned. Fear, my constant friend, rose up, supplanting my desire. My mind began to race with all the reasons why I had to leave, and leave immediately.
    “Sorry, no,” I blurted out. “We have to be going – soon.”
    I lied and he knew it.
    “And where’s that?” he asked.
    My momentary high all but collapsed, and my former uptight reserve returned.
    “Really, we have to go,” I said firmly. Head pounding, nerves on edge, a full scale war raging inside me, I gathered my purse and headed for the door in the same swift manner that I’d left The Tropics the week before.
    Knowing I was too shaken to drive, Jane took the wheel of my car and we rode in silence. I knew she’d be disappointed, but she showed no signs that she was. In fact, if anything, she seemed to sense my need to back away from bars and unknown men.
    “Come upstairs with me,” she said, as she parked the car in front of her building. It wasn’t a request I wanted to challenge. I wanted to be closer to her. I wanted it to be just her and me together, talking, laughing, being friends. I wanted to be the special one in her life for that moment in time. I needed her friendship and her wisdom and a place to be safe.
    As we mounted the stairs to her apartment, I felt the strange night, the tavern, the men, the dancing, the booze and the fear slowly melt into another time, far away. I entered Jane’s cozy world, and nothing else seemed to matter but our being together. It was safe, seductive and secure.
    Jane motioned me to sit while she changed clothes. Gone were the boots and leggings, replaced with a black knit wrap skirt. She removed the lace tee in favor of a snug-fitting pink camisole. She stopped long enough to pour two glasses of wine from the bottle we’d earlier shared, then while I sat on her couch slowly sipping from my glass, she flitted about the apartment, moving things from here to there. I wasn’t sure what she was doing, except that just looking at her move was a pleasure. The snug-fitting camisole showed off the contours of her breasts and torso. I could even see the dark part of her nipples, and the centers that hardened into little buds. I had the most compelling desire to touch them, and as strange as it seemed, I didn’t want to squelch the feeling.
    At last she sat down on the opposite end of the couch, in a most erotic pose, her legs sprawled wide so that her skirt, already quite short, rose up high on her thighs. I could see between her legs, and realized that she wasn’t wearing any panties. Her closely shaved pussy was right there for me to see. I didn’t know whether to look at it or turn away.
    Did she mean to be so provocative? Did she intend to turn me on? Would we make love? My heart beat rapidly at the thought, not with fear but arousal. I tried to dismiss the possibility that sex was her intent, but I could hardly shy away from the possibility. “Tell me Alex Morgan, why did you run tonight?”