came out they felt right. “That picture isn’t real. It was never real.”
Alex handed me his mug and I took it automatically. When he lifted the frame off its hook I made an unexpected noise of protest. He gave me a look and took the single step up onto the level where my dining table was. He put the photo facedown on it.
“Now, it’s down.” He reached for his mug and I handed it to him. “Feel any better?”
“No.” But I laughed a little. “Thanks.”
“Hey, do you have any plans for tonight? I know it’s Friday. You probably have something going on.”
I had to work the early shift at Foto Folks the next morning. “Actually, I don’t.”
“I rented some movies. And, like a d-bag, didn’t remember I don’t have a TV yet.”
“Ah. So you’re going to use me for mine, is that it?”
“I’d be ashamed to say yes, but it’s the truth.”
I sipped from my mug as I pretended to think about it. “What did you rent?”
“The new Transformers movie. And Harold and Maude.”
“Yeah, wow, because those two are so similar,” I told him with a laugh. “But I haven’t seen the Transformers and it’s been years since I watched Harold and Maude. Sure. I’ll let you use my TV.”
“I’ll buy the pizza, how’s that?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We made arrangements to meet later, and Alex showed up at six o’clock with a large pizza from the place down the street in one hand, a bunch of DVDs in the other. I hadn’t done more than change my clothes into Friday-night-stay-at-home sweatpants and a T-shirt, but he’d showered and shaved, and wafted through my door on a delicious cloud of garlic and cologne. I wondered if I should’ve made more of an effort.
“Dinner by candlelight?” he asked as he set the pizza on my dining table.
“Oh…no. They’re not for ambience.” Lighting candles was something I did on Friday nights when I wasn’t out and about, a habit left over from my childhood, when my mom had made a point of lighting candles even if she’d done very little else to usher in the Sabbath. Big change from now, when her life revolved around it.
He gave me a quizzical look. “Are you Jewish?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised he guessed—a world traveler would probably have encountered some Jews somewhere along the way. “Not really. Sort of.”
“Oookay.”
I laughed, self-conscious. “It’s complicated.”
“Fair enough. It’s not any of my business.” He glanced at the candles. “They’re pretty, though.”
“Thanks.” My mother had given me the candlesticks. I don’t think she knew I used them. At least I’d never told her. “What can I get you to drink?”
Moving right along. Alex got the hint. “Water’s good.”
“You sure? I have some red wine. In a bottle even, not from a box.”
He made an impressed face. “Fancy. But no, thanks.”
“Do you mind if I have some?”
My question seemed to surprise him. “No, of course not. It’s your house.”
He’d been gracious enough not to push me on the religion issue; I gave him the same treatment about the drinking. We piled slices of pizza on our plates and ate in front of the television while the Transformers blew up a lot of stuff and Harold fell in love with Maude. We laughed a lot and talked over the movies. We sat at opposite ends of the couch, but our feet met in the middle, nudging every so often.
It was the nicest night I’d had in a long time, and I told him so.
“Get out of here.” Alex flipped a hand at me.
“I’m serious!”
“Well. Good. I’m glad.”
A few glasses of red wine had left me mellow and languid. “It’s nice, just hanging out with you, Alex. No pressure. None of that stupid back and forth stuff.”
He was silent for a few seconds as the credits rolled. “Thanks. It’s nice hanging out with you, too.”
I yawned under cover of my hand. “But it’s late, and I have to get up early tomorrow.”
“Work?”
“Yeah. Think of me while you’re still snuggled down under the blankets in the morning.”
He laughed and got up, held out a hand to help me up, too. “Oh. I’m sure I will.”
Our fingers had linked, but now he let me go. I watched as he popped open the DVD player to take out the disc, and slipped it into the paper rental sleeve. He caught me looking as he turned.
“We should do this again,” I said. “It was fun.”
I wasn’t drunk, but I was tired and more than a bit fuzzy. I couldn’t quite read his smile or the expression in his eyes—something was there that looked like amusement. Something beneath that, too deep to decipher.
“Yeah. I’d like that. Good night, Olivia.” Alex didn’t move toward the door.
This was the point of the night where, with another man, I’d have been tipping my face up for a kiss. Hell, this was the part of the night where I’d already have decided if he was going to spend the night or be kicked out. Instead, we both laughed at the same time. Alex stepped away. Whatever tension I’d imagined—and it had to be imagined—faded.
“Good night, Olivia. See you.”
“Night,” I called after him as he let himself out the door. “Catch you later.”
The door clicked shut behind him. I gathered the trash and put the leftover pizza in the fridge, then padded into my bathroom for a hot shower so I wouldn’t have to wake up so early the next morning. Usually the steam and water relax me enough so that I’m boneless by the time I come out, ready immediately for sleep, but not this night.
My soap-slick hands slid over my skin. Nipples tight. An ache between my legs. I wasn’t making myself come with Alex’s face in mind, his long, lean body…the sound of his moan. I wasn’t sliding my hands over my breasts and thighs and belly pretending they belonged to him. I was absolutely not lying in darkness on my bed with my legs spread, a finger in my cunt and another on my clit, working my body into ecstasy while I pretended it was him.
All right, so I was. It was impossible not to. He was beautiful and sexy and the closest I’d had to a date in months. That was by choice, since plenty of men asked me out but very few impressed me. And he wasn’t into women. I’d seen evidence of that with my own eyes, even if Patrick hadn’t warned me off him.
