I blush and bite my bottom lip, debating on whether I should tell him how loud I screamed his name in the shower this morning. I may have to tell him that someday, but I think it would melt his brain right now.
“Fuck, I’m so bad at this. Did I mention I have absolutely no game at all? Guess that’s what I get for being the permanent wingman.”
We talk and laugh together long after the pie is gone, and I can’t help but notice that the longer I’m with him, the quieter my mother’s voice in my head becomes. He’s unlike any man I’ve ever dated before—and most of the women. According to my sister, my type is dumb, toxic, and only around for a good time, not a long time.
But Jamie doesn’t fit those descriptions. He’s got the kindest eyes and the sweetest smile…when he smiles. He’s also smart, charming, and witty, even if his jokes are dad-level lame.
I barely even notice when the employees start closing up, and we’re still outside talking. I could listen to him talk for hours, or until someone shuts off the lights.
“Shit, guess they’re kicking us out.” He laughs as our eyes adjust to yellow streetlights, and we finally head back.
As we walk, his fingers graze mine. I convince myself it’s happening by accident, but it’s hard to fight the urge to grab hold of his hand each time. Until he wraps his pinky around mine. Neither of us says anything or looks at the other as he threads the rest of his fingers with mine. We walk together in a rare, comfortable silence.
We’re back at my building too soon, and I gaze at the door that marks the night’s end. I should have walked slower or taken a longer route. I don’t want this night to end, and I don’t want him to leave. I’m already addicted to the safety and protection he offers, but there’s more to it than just safety.
“I can run up and bring your stuff down. Save you a trip,” I offer him a way out while praying he doesn’t take it.
“I should come up and make sure the coast is clear, if that’s okay with you.”
At some point, while we were walking and talking, I somehow forgot about my mother and what she’d done earlier. I was so focused on James and how he was making me feel. Something tells me that had been his plan all along, and I can’t help but wonder how he knew to do that with such ease.
“I know a few more late-night dessert places we can hit if your mom wants to go for round two.” He squeezes my hand, reminding me he hasn’t let go yet. “If you want to call it a night, that’s fine, but I’d like to know you’re upstairs and safe before I leave.”
“I think between my mother and the sugar, I won’t be going to sleep anytime soon.” I catch the smile he tries to hide, but I can’t blame him—I’m smiling too. I want to stop being afraid. I want to stop pushing people away. I want to let someone in for the right reasons for once. “Any chance you like movies?”
I’ve never invited a guy to my apartment on a first date, and now, for the second time tonight, we’re walking to my door. I keep reminding myself that it’s alright because this isn’t a date. It’s two co-workers hanging out together—maybe friends—perfectly innocent. What isn’tperfectly innocentis the fact that I want him to stay. I want to listen to him talk into the early morning hours. I want to stare into those pretty eyes until one of us is forced to look away. I want him to wrap me in his strong arms and tear my fucking clothes off.
Flipping on the lights, I hang up my coat and his hoodie on the hooks by my door while James gives a low whistle. I panic, thinking my mother is back or worse, but when I turn to see what he’s looking at, I find him staring around the apartment with wide-eyed surprise.
“Wow, nice place.”
“I guess you didn’t really get a chance to see it before.” I cross my arms and lean against the back of the couch while he continues scanning the room. “It’s alright.” I pick up a candle and sniff it before lighting a long match.
“You have the whole place to yourself, no roommate?” He purses his lips and shakes his head, “Wow, that didn’t sound all serial killer or anything, did it?”
“Well, at least if you’re going to kill me, you got me pie first,” I giggle. He’s staying across the room, keeping some distance between us. Maybe neither of us trusts ourself to be alone together. “I do live by myself, but don’t spend much time here. My mother and stepfather own it, so the rent is cheap. She claims it’s helping me out, but she just wants to keep me firmly under her thumb. I was just dumb enough to fall for it. Now I’m kind of stuck here.”
“You’re not dumb, Lexi. She’s manipulative. It’s hard to get out from under that kind of thing.” His head tilts to the side as he looks at the three large art pieces leaning against a wall. “Did you make these? They look like your style.”
“Yeah, they were an art project I started in college that grew into those three monsters,” I gush proudly, like I’m talking about my kids or something. “They’re mixed-media, so I collected pieces along the way and created them over the years to keep my mind off things. I just finished the redesigned RENT poster last year; I’ve been working on it for seven years total. That one took the longest.”
“Weird place to keep it,” he frowns as he looks over the mantle and the blank walls around it. “Why not there where it would be easier to see? A focal point?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to get it to Sam’s so he can put it up there. I’m worried my mother or stepfather would take it down and burn it if they found it hanging up. They don’t approve of that…lifestyle.”
They don’t approve of me.
“That’s too bad. It’s a great play. I’ve seen it five times, I think. This is beautiful and really captures the complexity of the message. It’s brilliant. Like you.”
“Fancy words for saying it’s alright. It’s not that special, but it makes me happy.”
“You do that too much.”
“What?”
“Play yourself or your work down. You’re talented. Not in the corporate, boring, stuck-in-a-box kind of way, either. You’ve got some amazing skills.” He bites his lip, and his eyes soften. He steps closer to me, and I feel myself stop breathing when his hand comes up. He wipes at the corner of my mouth. “Pie.”
“Oh.” My knees try to give out as I watch him lick it off his thumb.
