"Thought you might be hungry." Jeff was sitting at his table, a round thing barely big enough for two people.
I slipped into the chair across from him, still basically naked from the waist down. The table was clear glass, and his gaze fell from my face to my legs. I pretended not to notice and dug in to the food, which was simple and delicious.
"Thanks for breakfast," I said.
"Welcome," Jeff grunted.
He got up and dug around in a cabinet, found a bottle of Aspirin and gave me two.
"And thanks for taking care of me last night," I added, swallowing the Aspirin gratefully.
Jeff shrugged, uncomfortable. "That's what friends are for, I guess."
He drummed a rhythm on the glass with two fingers. I set my hand on his, just rested mine on top, at first. When he glanced up at me in surprise, I slipped mine beneath his. His palm was warm and calloused on my hand, and he looked from our hands to my eyes, and back.
His eyes burned into mine, questioning.
"Is that all we are?" I asked. "Just friends?"
Jeff looked our hands again. "Well, it's all we have been." His eyes flicked up to mine. "Till now." It was almost a question, but not quite.
"Until now," I agreed.
I wasn't sure what this was, or where it was going, but I wanted to see. Jeff had been my friend for a long time, keeping his feelings for me on the down low, never letting them interfere. He'd never tried anything, never asked me out, never told me he liked me, or tried to seduce me. We'd gotten drunk together on a number of occasions, but he'd always been a perfect gentleman, just like last night. Only, last night I'd finally seen a glimpse of his desire for me.
So then, how did I know what he felt for me? The little things. A look he would give me while setting up, meeting my gaze for a few beats too long, a wistful gleam in his eyes. The way he'd never let me do anything too hard, keeping all the heavy lifting for himself. Fending off drunks and keeping losers from hitting on me.
I looked at him, at the slope of his shoulders and the tension in his eyes. He was waiting for this to end, for me to tell him we'd just be friends. He'd never tried anything with me, but he wanted to.
"Jeff? Can I ask you something?"
"You just did, didn't you?" He smirked, that rare little expression of humor.
"You know what I meant." He lifted a shoulder, and I plunged ahead. "Why haven't you ever tried anything? As more than friends I mean?"
A long silence, and then a shrug of one shoulder. It wasn't even an answer, but somehow there was a wealth of expression in it. The shrug seemed to mean hidden fear, worry of rejection, a whole slew of things he could and would never say aloud, or even admit to himself in so many words.
"You never know until you try, right?"
Jeff opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. After a deep breath, he tried again. "I didn't mean what I said last night, but I do have to know. Why now?"
"Sometimes...you just wake up one day and see what's always been there."
"I guess." He threaded his fingers through mine, a gesture of finally giving in to hope.
He seemed about to say something else, but he shook his head, drew his hand out of mine and stood up.
"I'm gonna take a shower. I won't be long," he said, and then he was gone.
I heard the bathroom door closing and the shower start, and I was left sitting alone, wondering why he'd pulled away. He'd seemed on the verge of something, but had swerved aside.
I knew he wanted me, I'd seen that last night. So...maybe it was up to me? Maybe he wouldn't believe I actually wanted him unless I showed him, in no uncertain terms.
Why shouldn't I go after him?His hand brushing my leg had been electric, thrilling. What would sex be like? Even more electrifying, likely.
There's only one way to find out.
My body was moving before my brain was aware of the decision being made. At some point, my shirt ended up on the floor, leaving me clad only in a front-clasp bra and thong.
