I keep close to his side the entire night, observing, not saying much. I'm being introduced as his new girlfriend (although not by him- his friend Sarah, who's hosting the party, is the one making introductions) to sly smiles from people who know him, people who are undoubtedly wondering why he's dating someone as reserved (or is it shy?) as me. "Reserved" is one of the last words someone would use to describe Jaime, and it would seem that he more often than not surrounded himself with people more like him.
I can tell that his friends think I'm shy due to my inarticulateness, and I can only assume that in their minds, shyness is associated with innocence. These people must know Jaime well, or at least well enough to know that he has a temper. It's obvious from the way that everyone is very cautious when speaking to us, that they don't want to say or do anything that would shock or offend me for fear of upsetting him.
One guy, Dave, who looks like he's well on his way to drinking himself into a coma, is an exception to this rule. While he and Jaime are engaged in conversation, he decides to tell a dirty joke about an Irishman and a Japanese woman. At the punch line, only a couple people chuckle half-heartedly. Most just remain silent and glance nervously in our direction.
Jaime is also looking at me, gauging my reaction, and I can tell from his expression that my already-huge eyes have gotten wider. When Dave finally catches on to the expectant air that is centered on us, he suggests in heavily slurred speech that Jaime take me upstairs to make me share the same fate as the Japanese woman.
"That might loosen her up a little!" he laughs, doing his best to wink slyly at my date. I feel my face crunch up in what I'm sure is a pretty good imitation of confusion, anxiety, fear and outright disgust.
Jaime's expression also changes, from concern to anger. He punches Dave hard in the shoulder before grabbing my arm and steering me down the hallway and into the shelter and relative privacy of the bathroom.
As soon as he slams the door, he whirls to face me and immediately grabs me by my shoulders, kissing me fiercely. I kiss back, just as hard while my hands go to his waist and clasp the hem of his white t-shirt, intending to pull it off. He stops me with his big hands over mine and a slight shake of his head.
"No time," he mumbles into my lips, then sucks my tongue into his mouth for a demonstration of what is to come.
I barely have time to nod in acquiescence to his unspoken request before he has lifted me onto the sink, reached between my legs, and torn away the bit of black lace that had been serving as my panties. I assume that he carelessly drops them to the floor as he leans me back against the wall gently and pushes my skirt up around my waist, his lips still connected to mine.
Suddenly his strong hands go behind my knees and lift, separating them and bringing them level with my head, totally exposing my most intimate area. Then he kneels in front of me, his face only inches from my sex.
