I think I’m blushing. “Okay.”
That smile.Gah. Again with that smile making me feel—well, things I shouldn’t feel.
Like that he cares.
That he likes me.
That we’ll be making out again soon. This time with advance planning.
And hopefully no falling into dirty dishes.
He squeezes my waist and kisses my cheek, and then he follows Margot out the door.
Daphne shuts it behind both of them, then looks at me.
After a minute, both of us squeal.
It’s notreal-real.
It’s a temporary fling.
And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.
Weird or not.
18
MAYBE CLOTHES ARE THE PROBLEM
Simon
The weather is makingme miss England, which is remarkable. I rarely miss England.
But when it’s this sticky and hot anytime I leave my house, I do.
I miss cold, drizzly days that don’t feel as though they might melt one’s brains.
Still, I’m smiling as Pinky and I approach Bea’s burger bus at the far end of the car park where half a dozen food vans are set up on the opposite side of the lake from JC Fig.
This park area, Pinky has informed me, belongs to Austen & Lovelace College.
And today, it is teeming with adolescents in a summer nature program.
The car park is not as busy, as it’s early for lunch, but I expect it will be full soon enough.
I pause at the window of Bea’s burger bus and peek inside.
Ah, there she is.
Preparing burger toppings.
“Hello, Bea,” I call. “Lovely day to sweat your arse off, isn’t it?”
She doesn’t answer, but she does shake that lovely arse in my direction.
I clear my throat and order my cock to behave itself.
And then I realize why Bea hasn’t answered me, and why she’s truly shaking her arse.
