Page 7 of Maybe You
He laughs. “Tough crowd.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much. You’re doing about as well as can be expected considering all the things working heavily against you.”
His lips twitch. “What might those be?”
“For one thing, your obvious penchant for breaking into buildings is a bit of a turn-off.”
“Or is it hot?”
“I think the word you’re looking for is crime. Is it a crime? Yes.”
He starts to laugh and shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything, just looks again.
“What?” I eventually ask.
He shrugs. “Nothing. I just enjoy looking at you.”
I cross my arms over my chest and then unwrap them because I don’t want to come off as self-conscious and unsure, even though that’s exactly how I feel. But I don’t want to look it.
“You know, now it’s actually starting to feel like you are hitting on me,” I say.
His expression changes into something infinitely more intense than the easygoing flirtation from a moment before.
“Quite blatantly, I might add,” he says.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Thank you? I’m just going to speed this thing along so we can both go on with our night. You’ll ask me out. I’ll say no. We’ll exchange awkward pleasantries. I’ll call the cops.”
I mean… That’s the right answer, isn’t it? That’s what normal people do when somebody breaks in. They call the cops. It’s a testament to what an idiot I am that I haven’t yet.
“Sound about right?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
He tilts his head to the side slightly. “No? No offense. I’m sure you’d be a perfectly nice person to date, but that’s not what I want. At all. In fact, I cannot stress enough how much I don’t want a date.”
I see we’re ignoring the police part of this conversation.
“What do you want then?” I ask.
He straightens himself up, all fluid and graceful.
He moves like water.
And then he’s right in front of me. He’s about the same height as me, maybe an inch or so taller, and he’s standing so close that I can feel the heat of him. A tingle at the back of my neck travels down my spine, scorching hot and decidedly unwelcome.
“I want to fuck you,” he says. No hesitation. No real lead-up to that statement either, unless the break-in is some new form of foreplay, and I’m just unaware that this is now a thing. It’s entirely possible. Trends tend to reach me later than other people.
“Huh,” I say after a second when it’s clear he’s not joking. “Basically, you’re an example of what-if-Grindr-was-a-real-boy.”
His lips twitch.
“Basically,” he agrees.
There’s something calming about his straightforwardness. Like a negotiation where all the cards are already on the table. It’s my favorite kind.
Then again, saying that, I’m still not sure how we got here.
He starts to laugh again at whatever it is he sees on my face. “You’re hot. I don’t think this is the first offer you’ve ever received. Although, if it is, I’m willing to show you the ropes.”
I ignore the… compliment? “Nice of you. You’re a bit shallow.”