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I feel excitement rising in me as I consider being close to her and getting my deal, as well. It looks like it might actually be in reach.
I look over at Roxy and she’s stuffing food into her bag. She has a slightly frantic look as her eyes dart around the place. I know she’s thinking about where she’s going to sleep.
“Roxy?”
“Yeah?”
“How would you like to sleep at my place? Maybe just for the night or something?” I’m still pretty wary. I don’t know anything about her at all.
The grin stretches wide across her face.
“Hey, sure thing. Thanks! And you just tell me what you need, you’re the boss, okay?”
I press my thighs together even harder as the waitress approaches with the cheque. This could be far too tempting for me.
For the first time in my life, I can feel my control slipping.
Eight
Roxanne
I can’t get the smile off my face. It’s actually hurting my cheeks. Not so long ago I was hungry and cold and freaked out about where I was going to sleep. Now I’m full of good food—and so is my backpack—and she’s offering me a bed.
Her bed?
It’s not like I would mind. The way she’s smiling at me right now is definitely friendly and not sexy, but who can really tell with these things? If she was a guy, I’d be expecting it to get sexy straight away. I honestly don’t know which way this is going to go.
But I’m not going to pass up this chance. She looks fancy and I’m betting she has plenty of room and good food, too. If she wants to fuck… I don’t think that will be difficult for me.
Hell, I might seduce her the minute we get through the door. The only thing holding me back is that she might not have any interest in me, might not even be a lesbian. She might be one of those crazy do gooders that picks up people like me every now and then to assuage their guilt over all the fancy shit they own.
I smile at Helen as she pays the bill. She smiles back. It looks a bit suggestive to me, but I might be just seeing what I want to see.
We walk out together, my stomach protesting a bit after such a big meal. I love the feeling though, it happens so rarely I have to enjoy it as often as I can.
As we walk down the street and Helen keeps her eyes open looking for a cab, the silence between us deepens. She knows all the socially accepted platitudes, but she’s realized that to me, those questions are rude. Basic things like, where did you go to school? Or what was your first job? Are going to result in me connecting to my pain. Past trauma.
I don’t have a lot of happy memories.
I can’t believe that she knows this, that she has just picked up on it by thinking about the questions before she asks them. I appreciate it deeply. I’ve often answered those questions just because you’re ‘supposed’ to. They made me uncomfortable every time and I can’t be fucked lying. Why would I bother to make up stories for complete strangers?
Helen finally hails a cab and we sit in the dark with the streetlights flickering over us.
“Hey, Helen…”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For this. Dinner and everything.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” She looks away uncomfortably and that’s when I think there might be more to this than what I can see. I mean, I know she might want to fuck. Big deal there. All she has to do is ask. She seems to straight up for that though. Definitely not the type to pick up random girls… From the gutter or from any other place.
“Is everything okay?” I’m genuinely concerned for her. She seems so uncomfortable.
“Yes, of course.”
“I can always find somewhere else to stay if you aren’t sure…”
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m sorry, Roxy, its not you. Even though I am a little nervous. I’m just… Trying to be nice.”
