In the Spirit of Christmas

A love story on Christmas

I don’t really believe in Christmas, or in love or in allowing some ridiculously handsome but very stupid guy in faded blue jeans_ that emphasized strong long thighs_ and a “You can’t see me” t-shirt_ that hinted a large expanse of chest and very broad shoulders_ to make jest of you in a filling station.

Arms akimbo, I stare him down with an expression I’m hoping meant “do you know how stupid you are right now?” He looked at me daringly as if in a challenge and I couldn’t help but notice his dark eyes kinda rhymed with the dark hair on his chiseled face giving him a sexy predator look. I feel enraged.

“You must be out of your mind if you think you can intimidate me! You don’t expect me to wait for your lazy ass to do a simple task as refilling your car!” I poked at his chest daringly_ my god, what a chest. My eyes bravely held the chocolate pool of his. His eyes darkened even more and he held my hand firmly. His hand was…well, very manly.

“Looks like someone needs proper handling.” He said more to himself than to me. I don’t know what made me angrier; the cool of his voice even when he just scraped my car with his or that he had the nerve to insinuate that I needed ‘proper handling’.

I move pretty close to him, manning him up with my 5 feet10 inches, although not enough for his at least 6 feet. I noticed his lips shifted up at the side_ they were pretty nice lips_ but I wouldn’t let that discourage me. “Who the hell are you to suggest I don’t have proper handling? Do you know who I am? I am an independent woman! I am…”

How his thin lips came crashing down on mine I have no idea. I just stood there surprised, lips on a stranger. The kiss came first as a challenge_ oh was he testing me?_ and I responded with the same vigour, clashing lips and tongues as if in a battle. The kiss then graduated into that of passion and need. My brain was flooded with anti-reason.

It was when I felt his hair in my hand_ how did my hand get there?_ a shred of sense came back to me and I broke the kiss. He looked stunned too and quite disheveled as I was but I didn’t let that lips of his move into a smug smile of victory. I gave him a resounding slap and felt strength return to my knees almost instantly.

He held his face in shock. But the shock was quickly replaced with a smug smile and on my next attempt to wipe it off with another slap he caught my hand in the hair. I’m pretty sure the look on my face was that of defiance and not fear_ I wish.

He removed a card from his pocket and placed it in my hand. “Please call me. I think we both deserve a rematch…and, perhaps, an apology. Merry Christmas.”

With that, he entered his black Honda and zoomed off, not bothering to refill anymore. I stood there watching his car leave, some pretty intelligent comebacks I could have said earlier started rushing into my head. Too late.

The nerve of that man! He had the audacity to kiss me…in public! In a filling station_ although I was alone now; the other car behind me probably left when the argument ensued or when we started kissing(coward!)_ right beside a freeway!

After filling my car and paying up with my credit card_ it was a single automated fill-yourself pump_ I got into the car and heaved a sigh. A slow smile crept to my mouth. I just kissed a stranger. A handsome, mysterious but
very annoying and daring one for that matter.

I looked at the card he had given me before he ran away to mummy_ ‘ran away to mummy’, I like that and I shoved it into my shelf of comebacks for future reference. The card didn’t look poor at all. It was pretty designed with gold printed lines on nice royal purple paper (cool). His name was Ayomide Felix, Human Relations Manager, Shell Oil. Human Relations huh? He must really suck at his job.

Ayomide Felix, I sighed and tucked the card into my purse, you are in for a rematch. And I’m bringing my A game.

…to be continued…

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