He rubs a hand over his face. “No, no, it’s fine. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. If I sleep now, I’ll be up all night.”
His comment is a little surprising until I realise that Giles probably has a sleep schedule the same way he has the rest of his life organised for optimal performance.
“Well, let me wash these up and then I’ll go,” I say, turning back to the sink and starting to fill it with warm water.
“You’re going?” Giles’ voice is closer to me and over my shoulder, I see him approaching.
“The film finished,” I say to explain my decision.
“Oh,” Giles says and it’s such a short, sharp sound and yet it seems to say so many things. But they are things I can’t decipher.
I wash up quickly and efficiently, just like I do in the café and then I grab a tea towel to dry everything.
“You don’t have to do that,” Giles says.
“It’s the least I can do,” I say as I pick up a mug. “After what you did for me.”
Giles’ mouth goes slack and his gaze drops to the floor.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean…” I trail off because it’s very important I get my next words right, but no surprises, Giles is quicker than my slow, stuttering brain.
“I know what you meant,” he says and there’s no edge to his voice. He yawns and lifts a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. It makes his shirt rise out of his trousers and it reveals a glimpse of his sculpted abs.
“We could… We could have lesson number two if you wanted? If you really don’t have plans?” I ask and I should be embarrassed at the hope in my voice, but I’m not.
“I,” he pauses, for what feels like a long time, “I don’t think so.”
He doesn’t meet my eyes and I think that disappoints me just as much as him rejecting my suggestion.
“Okay, well, I’ll finish this and get going.” I turn back to drying up the last mug and bowl. It takes me no time at all and yet the few minutes seem to stretch and gain weight, or maybe that’s just because I feel Giles’ eyes on my back the whole time.
Once finished, I hang the tea towel over the handle of his oven and look around for my shoes. Finding them near the front door, I head over there and again, I feel Giles’ stare on my shoulders as I move. With my trainers on, I stand and finally turn to face him as he gets up and walks towards me.
“So,” I say. “Gym after work tomorrow?”
“Gym after work tomorrow.” He nods and folds his arms.
I’m about to turn and leave but that feels wrong. After what we did, what we shared, and yes, what I felt as it was happening, it feels all kinds of wrong to just walk out of the door. But what is the right way to say goodbye at the end of a sex lesson? A handshake? A high five? A hug?
“I… I don’t really know how to say goodbye,” I admit with a short laugh.
“What do you mean?” Giles squints.
“I mean, like, you sucked my dick, man.” I laugh again. “It feels a bit rude to then just walk away without so much as a fist bump.”
“We can fist bump.” Giles unravels his arms and steps a little closer. “Or whatever you want.”
I make sure I have his eye contact before I reply. “I want to kiss you.”
“You do?” Giles’ shoulders pull back.
“Yeah. I liked kissing you. A lot. And I probably won’t get a chance to do it in the gym this week so…”
Giles’ moustache lifts with his smile, a grin I’m pretty sure he’s trying to bite back, but it’s all the invitation I need to take a step closer to him.
“Can I?” I ask.
“You can.” He nods, looking up at me.
