I laugh.
His grip shifts and suddenly he’s supporting my weight away from the wall. “Ready?”
I nod enthusiastically, wrap my arms a little tighter around his neck, with a little jump, we are airborne again. This timewe're pressed front to front. I squeal when we leave the ground behind, tightening my arms around his neck, and there’s a satisfying laugh from him in return.
His home isin the industrial area of the waterfront. The outside looks like every other warehouse on the block, except for a large cement fire flower sculpture in the minuscule patch of grass that constitutes his front yard.
The inside of the building is wide open, with concrete floors and ceilings so high they disappear into the darkness above us. The space is dim, I assume to accommodate his eyes, with moody colorful lighting scattered around; as my vision adjusts I notice twinkling fairy lights strung high toward the ceiling, almost like stars.
Even with the massive open space, there are neatly cordoned-off living areas. Cabinets stretch along one wall, with a large butcher-block island for food prep designating the kitchen. The boundaries of the living room and bedroom are indicated with layered carpets. There’s a huge couch, and an even bigger bed, all visible from where we are standing near the front door. The plush furniture makes everything feel cozy and lived in.
“Wow…” I admire. “Lots of space.”
“I like to spread my wings.” They unfold as he says it, stretching out slowly. Watching the movement makes my stomach swoop. He gives me room to explore, leaning against his kitchen island while he watches me circle his home. All the little nerves in my body flare. I shouldn’t have let him set me down. I shouldn’t have stopped touching him.
“This is like… a whole warehouse?” I ask. “Are you rich?”
He shrugs. “I got a good deal on it.”
He shifts on his feet, his heavy gaze follows me as I give his bed a wide berth and pause beside his desk to admire his computer. It's a custom build, with multiple monitors, LED backlighting, and an adjustable height desk. It’s one of the largest and most impressive setups I’ve seen in real life.
“Oh, sweet machine!” I lean in to investigate, but the screens are all turned off. “Gamer? Programmer?”
“You really want to know?” There’s trepidation in the question, his antennae curl toward each other. Cute.
I shake my head. I would love to know, but at this point I think it’s better if I can’t get more attached to him. “No, never mind, no details.”
“Whatever you want, Piper.” He reaches up to his head, pulls the plastic Spock ears from his face, and tosses them to his counter. He doesn’t actually have ears, just feathery protrusions on the sides of his head. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thanks,” I murmur.
“A snack?”
“Maybe some water?” My throat feels slightly sticky.
He crosses to his fridge, and I can’t bring myself to speak while he pulls out a pitcher of chilled water and pours it into a glass. His antennae sway above his red glowing eyes, his wings open as he stalks toward me. He hasn’t looked quite so wonderfully inhuman as he does now. It feels like I’m being hunted. Is this what it felt like to be a prehistoric human a millennia ago? Huddled around a campfire and wondering about the things stalking them in the dark? How did they not constantly cream their jeans?
When he is close enough to tower over me, he hands me the cup. I’m embarrassed to see my hands trembling slightly as I reach for it.
“Are you alright?” His warm fingers brush mine as I take the cool glass.
“I’m great!” I chew on my lip, knowing that’s not making me seem more at ease. I quickly down the drink, the cold water is harsh contrast to my hot nervous throat.
He’s staring down at me, all tall, and mysterious, and sexy. How did I manage to get this far? Every step of this journey has been completely out of my element. And now he’s just staring at me. What’s he even looking at? Do I have a booger? What’s he waiting for? Why doesn’t he make a move? Kiss me again? Grab a boob? Men usually just go straight for the boobs.
He can’t possibly have changed his mind this fast. I never should have let him stop touching me. I should have taken off all my clothes the second we walked into his home, and thrown myself at him. I should have taken off allhisclothes.
His hands flex at his sides, and I realize neither of us has spoken for several moments. This is my chance to seduce him with something sexy or smart or funny.
I take a deep breath before blurting, “Where’s your bathroom?”
He points to a door near the kitchen.
“I just need to freshen up.” I cringe saying it, and force a smile as I flee to lock myself in his bathroom.
I stare into the mirror above the sink for a long moment. What am I so nervous about? I’ve had sex before. Not really casually, not in a huge expensive loft, and not with a Mothman. Surely the mechanics are mostly the same.
I think I might be nervous because I actually really like him?
