Ill Take Forever

He was safe, steady and reliable.
    When George leaned over to kiss her, Jenny looked up in surprise, first at George, then over his shoulder, where her glance clashed with Kyle's. His look burned, but before Jenny could do anything, he turned and was lost from view.
    'Couldn't resist,' George said, smiling. 'Come on, a slow song is starting perfect to dance to.'
    Jenny danced for the next few hours: with George, with her Dad, with friends of Johnny, friends of her folks, of George. She looked for Kyle, found him once or twice dancing with Naomi. Always with Naomi. A twist of jealousy penetrated. She tossed her hair and threw herself into enjoyment of the dance, yet it persisted.
    Finally, Jenny had enough. She’d find Kyle and tell him she was ready to go home. It was late and she was tired; they still had a long ride home and she wanted to leave before she got too sleepy to drive.
    She scanned the patio, but there was no sign of him. Going through the house, she searched for him in vain. Where could he be? She went to the jeep, but still there was no sign of him. Jenny was torn between being worried about the man, and annoyed he was so elusive.
    Walking slowly back to the patio again she heard a soft giggle to her right. Glancing towards the edge of the house, she could see a couple locked in an embrace. The light spilling from the house cast them in a soft glow, the blonde hair of the girl in sharp contrast to the dark hair of the man holding her.
    Jenny stopped, rooted to the spot. So much for wanting to sleep with her. Kyle Martin was out for whatever he could get. Jenny felt the heat rise in her cheeks. God, she was glad nothing had happened between them!
    Nothing? Her mind queried.
    'Kyle?'
    The couple looked up, and stepped apart.
    'I'm tired and want to go home. Are you almost ready, or do you want to get a ride from someone else?' Jenny kept her tone even, kept her eyes on his outline, ignoring Naomi.
    'Give me a few minutes.'
    'I'll wait in the car.'
    She turned and blindly stumbled her way to the car. She climbed in and leaned her head back against the seat. She refused to think. The ache she was feeling in her chest was probably indigestion. Every time an image danced before her eyes, she blanked it out. She would not think.
    The sudden glare of the overhead light when Kyle opened the door made her blink. She sat up and inserted the key into the ignition.
    'Jenny,' he started.
    'Not tonight, Kyle. I'm too tired.'
    'Want me to drive?'
    She hesitated, then nodded.
    He slammed his door closed and walked around, his feet crunching on the gravel. She slid over on the seat and looked out the window of the passenger door as he climbed in. She rested her head against the back of the seat, tired, drained. She was not used to such late nights, to excessive drinking, and the dancing. Not used to daydreams of delights to come and the cruel shock of reality. She was so tired.
    He must have a good sense of direction, she thought drowsily as they drove quickly over the distance to her home. He never asked directions, she never volunteered any, yet in only a short time they were home.
    'Jenny,' he began, as he shut off the engine.
    A flare of anger sparked in her.
    'I don't want to hear some made-up story,' she stormed back. 'What do you do, lust after anything in a skirt? Me one night, Naomi the next?'
    'No.' His voice was hard in the dark. 'You're a fine one to talk! What about George's kisses?'
    'George is a friend, someone I've known for years. And it was only a light kiss!'
    'Naomi is business.'
    'And what am I? Perks, that's what you said. How do you keep it all straight?'
    'I have no trouble keeping it straight.'
    He reached out and cradled the back of her head in his hand. Her gaze met his. For a moment there was an impasse, then she let him draw her closer. She relished the sensations when his lips touched hers. She swayed towards him, angry he could make her feel like this, angry she wouldn't pull back. The touch of him, his mouth against hers, his fingers tangled in her hair, the press of his shoulder, was intoxicating. On top of all she’d had to drink, Jenny wasn't sure if she could stand it. Her thoughts were spinning, or was it her head? Time stood still.
    When he released her to take a deep breath, she pulled back, glaring at him in the dark, sorry she couldn't see him, sorry he couldn't see how angry she was at him—or was it at herself for responding?
    'Anyone handy will do, right?' she snapped to