Dancing with Red Shirt

Location: Ellysium - 80s Night
Time: 1:00am
Music: Michael Jackson - Thriller

I'm on the dancefloor (yes, shock that it is) attempting to do my best "Thriller" moves, but the dancefloor is so crowded I can't really get in any convincing zombie dance moves.  (Sidenote:  I can do some great Thriller dance moves.  My eldest brother made me learn the moves with him when the video first came out.)  Red Shirt (some new guy I'm seeing) is outdoing me greatly.

We exit the danefloor shortly after the song ends and make our way to some new friends hanging out by the air conditioner.  I swear, I would have thought hanging out by the cool breezes of the air conditioner would be more popular, but the area in front of it was always vacant everytime I left the dancefloor.  We chat for a few minutes, and the he turns to me.

"I think I'm done with the 80s for tonight.  You ready to go?"  "Sure," I respond, and we make our way outside.  We're rather touchy-feely as we're walking back to his car.  My legs are killing me (workout the day before, running earlier today, moderate time on the dancefloor tonight), and he decides to help me up the hill by letting me lean on him.  He's got a tight and strong body, even if he is only 5'9" in height.  "Why am I being so touchy tonight," I begin to ask myself.  "I'm not really sure how I feel about him...  I don't want to be dishonest and misleading..."

We arrive at his car, and he leans against it, holding my hand and drawing me to him.  I lean in for the kiss as he places his hands on my torso, caressingly.  He draws me in closer, and I continue to wonder if I'm being dishonest.  I'm not sure this is something I can do.  I'm not sure he's the person I want do it with, even if I can.  

Eventually, the kiss is broken and he asks the question I knew was coming.  "What happens now?"

"What happens now is that I go home.  It's late." 

"And where am I going," he responds as he smiles.  I see the glint in his eyes, and the slight tilt of his head is not lost on me.

*sigh* "You're going to your house.  It's late.  And I'm tired."  I chickened out.  Why couldn't I tell him the truth.  That it's gonna take me some time before anything like that happens, if at all?

He seems ok with my statement, though.  He inquires about doing something the next day, as I have the day off from work.  I agree to some tentative outdoor plans, and we separate, getting into our respective cars.  I watch him as he drives away, wondering.  Is there no real spark?  Or am I unable to perceive it if it is, in fact, there.