Page 81 of UNAwere

Jude splutters into his cup of coffee. He puts it on the table and clears his throat, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

‘What?’ he asks, raising his eyes to me. His forehead is wrinkled again, and I admire it. I don’t know why I’d be attracted to a few wrinkles on someone’s forehead, but here I am.

‘The waitress! I think she might like you.’ I waggle my brows at him. ‘You could get her number?’

I don’t know why I’m saying it. Not when there’s something within me abhorring the idea of Jude getting this woman’s phone number. But it’s like I’m desperate to deter us from the very real, very scary, very naked situations we’ve gotten ourselves into in the past week or so.

‘She’s cute,’ I say when Jude says nothing, using the forkfuls of food he’s shovelling into his mouth as a reason not to speak.

‘I’m not interested.’

‘Why not? She seems nice. She has great hair. Her eyes are pretty.’

‘Red, I’m not interested.’

‘Oh.’ I blink. ‘Um, am I assuming your sexuality? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.’

He sighs and sets his knife and fork down. ‘I’m straight. But I’m not interested.’

‘In her? Or at all? Because I kind of understand being on the ace spectrum! We could talk about it?’ I put a hand on my chest. ‘I’m Demi, which means I don’t feel sexual attraction towards someone, unless I have an emotional connection with them.’

He rubs a hand across his beard. I eye the bacon on his plate, and as he sits there, thinking on his answer, I quickly reach over and snatch a piece, biting into it.

‘You have bacon,’ he mutters, gesturing to my BLT.

‘Yeah, but it’s in something,’ I say, munching.

He sighs again. He looks so tired, and I feel bad. I take a piece of bacon out of my BLT and put it onto his plate. He stares at it for a second, then he shakes his head, stabs it with his fork, and tries to hand it back. My hands are full with BLT, so I lean forward and take it off the fork with my teeth.

Jeepers.

I’ve made eye contact. And he’s staring at me. And his gaze has darkened on my mouth. And I’m getting very vivid, very hot flashes of him lying on top of me, naked. The memory of his cock pressing against me. The sounds of his groans. The feeling of his tongue.

I sit back, choking a little.

Jude frowns. ‘Are you okay?’

I nod and then shake my head. Oh boy, please don’t come over here.

He goes to get up, his face falling. ‘Sybbie?’

‘I’m fine,’ I spit out. ‘I’m fine.’ I cough a little. I’m the most attractive and graceful person I know.

I bite into the BLT and keep eating, taking a page from Jude’s book and using it as a way to stop talking. I keep my watery eyes on my plate. And when we’ve finished eating, we get up, and Jude leaves a few notes by our empty plates. We’re passing the ex-Karver’s table when Jude puts his hand on the small of my back again, and I bite back a soft sigh at the weight of it.

The cool night air hits us when I open the door, and I suck in a deep breath. Jude’s heat is behind me, and I pick up my pace a little, seeing the car and heading for it.

‘Shit, I forgot my phone,’ Jude says. ‘Hang on.’

I turn and stand in the cold, wrapping my arms around myself. I’m wearing a cardigan and my floral dress, which is less clothing than I wish to be wearing right now. Jude heads inside, and I tilt my head up, gazing at the dim sky. The moon’s out, and it’s big and round. I smile at it.

‘Hey, you got a light?’ a voice asks.

I look over to the wall of the service station’s building, seeing a figure standing by it. A man steps under the fluorescents, his head shaved, his eyes raking across me.

‘Ummmm.’ I palm the pockets of my cardigan, finding the packet of cigarettes and lighter I’d stuffed in there. ‘I do!’

I pull it out, and he steps forward, slipping a cigarette past his lips. He comes in close, and I hold the lighter out for him, flicking it and cupping my hand so it stays lit.