She sighs.
“Well, I’m not. I’m real, and I’m starting to wonder if this,” she motions between us, “might be too complicated for me. It’s just a hookup; not forever. It doesn’t even have to be a date if you don’t want.”
Oh.I don’t let my shoulders sag, but it’s hard. Not a date. Just a hookup. Just a hookup…with my dream girl.
I shake my head.What’s there to think about, idiot?If Kendra Gray wants you to fuck her, you do it and you say thank you for the chance.Did I hope for more? Sure, but casual hookups, I know. I can do casual. I’ll just casually hook up with a real-life Amazon in Chanel. No big deal.
“You have me all wrong, Kendra,” I lie through my teeth. “Things don’t have to be complicated. They can be simple. Casual, even.”
The look in my eyes ensures she catches my double meaning, and the look in hers says she’s interested. Hey, I’ll take what I can get.
“So…” She steps closer to me, putting her hand on my bicep. “Do you need to make the rounds first, or,” she actually bats her eyelashes, and I’m a goner.
“Oh! So, like, now?” She nods. “I, uh, I have to say ‘hi’ to my parents, and, uh, a few other people,” I stammer, “but I could be ready to go in, like,” I glance at my watch, “thirty minutes?”
She gives my arm another squeeze, and I nearly whimper. Kendra Gray wants to hook up. Withme! God, if this is another wet dream, I’ll never recover.
“Thirty minutes works for me.”
Exactly twenty-eight minutes and thirty seconds later, she’s taking my arm as we walk down the steps of my parents’ stoop. Though the heels make her legs look incredible, I doubt they’re comfortable, especially on all the uneven sidewalks in Clinton Hill. At least that’s my excuse when I urge her to keep hold of me all the way to the subway and down the stairs to the platform.
Miraculously, the G train pulls up after only a brief wait, and I offer my arm yet again.
“Such a gentleman,” she murmurs, settling on the seat beside me.
The train pulls away from the station, the momentum pushing her plump body into mine. Her curves are so soft, molding around the hard planes of my body like I fantasized they would for months. I hold my breath, hoping she doesn’t back away, and release it on a sigh when she stays snuggled close.
“So, whose place are we going to?” she asks. The subway car is crowded with people on the way to their own festivities, and she has to lean in to be heard. Her breath tickles my neck, sending goosebumps up my back.
“Wherever you would feel more comfortable,” I manage with only 10% of my body’s blood still in my brain.
She considers that in silence while the other riders chatter around us. They’re texting on their phones, talking about their holiday plans, reading their books. Meanwhile, I’m making a core memory.
The car empties completely at the Myrtle-Willoughby Avenues stop, likely due to all the bars in the area.
“I think,” she hesitates. “I think I’d prefer us to go to my place. There hasn’t been anyone over in…a while, and I think it’s time.”
Her voice is a whisper into the silence that suddenly surrounds us, and it makes the moment feel special. Maybe evenmagical. Like one loud noise could pop the bubble and yank us back into reality.
I nod and lean forward, ready to kiss her. Ready to see if the chemistry between us is as good as I’ve imagined. As explosive as I feel after so long lusting after her.
She begins to lean in too when the train screeches to a halt. The lights flicker, then turn off completely, and Kendra gasps.
“Wh-what’s going on?”
I can hear the panic in her voice. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close for comfort.
“It’s probably nothing. We are on the G train, after all. I’m sure the conductor will make an announcement to explain.”
The words are still on my lips when the scratchy intercom blares to life in the darkened car.
“Excuse the inconvenience, folks. There are signal issues at the Broadway stop, causing a slight delay. As soon as we get the green light, we will resume service.”
I expect to hear her sigh of relief, but instead, Kendra appears to be hyperventilating, her body trembling against mine, and not in a sexy way. I’ve seen enough rookies right before their first big game to recognize the start of a panic attack when I see one.
“See?” I say in a soothing voice. “It’s exactly as I said. Just a problem with the lights, then we’ll be moving again.” I rub my hands up and down her arms in time with my deep breaths, hoping she’ll join me.
In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4. In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4.
