I turn toward the voice and do my best to hide my surprise when I see a woman who’s at least fifty years old. Her salt-and-pepper hair is cut in a neat, blunt bob, and she has a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her name tag tells us we can call her Janet, and I’d bet she knit the soft gray sweater she’s wearing.
She’s also waiting for an answer to her question, so I do my best to give her one. “Oh, um…well, we?—”
“You said you have some with a softer lining?” Blue asks, stepping forward and squeezing my hand. “Could we look at those? I’ve got sensitive skin,” he tells her, offering a half smile.
Janet winks at him. “Sure thing. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she says, hightailing it out of the room like a woman on a mission.
I turn to Blue, wondering if he also thinks our new friend Janet seems a little out of place, like maybe she works at a local museum but she took a wrong turn after her lunch break and ended up here. “Do you?—”
“What are your thoughts on nipple clamps?”
“I don’t think about nipple clamps,” I answer honestly.
Blue nods thoughtfully. “I do,” he says. “Not a lot. Just, like, a normal amount. But I wonder what they’d feel like. Should we try them out?” he asks, plucking a package from a nearby rack.
Before I can answer, Janet comes bustling through with a tray of handcuffs in one hand and a wicker basket in the other. “Here we go. Feel free to look through these. And you can toss your purchases in here while you browse,” she says, handing us a basket better suited for Goldilocks.
Blue beams at her because he’s a people person. I stand next to him because I tend to veer into awkward territory in unfamiliar situations. And let’s be clear: sex-toy shopping with my casual hook-up definitely qualifies as awkward.
Janet smiles back at Blue because he’s so damn charming that’s the only possible response. “If there’s anything else I can help you find, just let me know.”
“Thanks,” Blue says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. It’s a comforting gesture, and one I actually appreciate. I feel like he’s grounding me and letting me know I belong here. I don’t, not with him, at least, but it’s nice to feel like we’re in this together, so I let myself enjoy the warmth of his hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, you two are just the cutest!” Janet exclaims, clasping her hands.
I know without looking that Blue is once again aiming his megawatt smile at Janet. I also know I’m blushing furiously. But I’m not moving. I’m not pushing Blue away or interrupting their grin-fest to let her know that we aren’t as cute as she thinks. We aren’t a couple. We’re just friends who have sex. My mouth should open any second now so I can set her straight, but it stays shut.
Blue’s doesn’t.
“We’re celebrating our anniversary,” he tells her, sending her into another flutter of joyful clapping.
I’m too stunned at his announcement to speak, and Blue takes that as his cue to keep on rolling with the tall tale he’s spinning about our relationship.
“Six months, right, Tiger?” he says, turning and dipping his head to kiss me on the temple. He gives my arm a gentle squeeze before moving his hand back down to his side and threading his fingers through mine. It’s an intimate gesture, a sweet one. And certainly something that a couple would do after dating for six months.
“Yep. Crazy how time flies,” I say, finally getting my bearings. “It feels like we just got together.”
“That’s young love for you,” Janet croons. “Well, I could stand here and yammer all day, but I have a feeling you two have better things to do with your time than talking to me. I’ll let you look around, but if there’s anything special you’re interested in, just give me a holler.”
I know deep in my soul that Blue is about to say something outrageous, something that will have my cheeks turning a darker shade of crimson than they already are. Something ridiculous and outlandish that will have me burrowing into his side to shield myself from embarrassment.
So I decide to beat him to it.
“We can get pretty adventurous,” I admit. “But you see where the sex swing landed us,” I add, gesturing down to Blue’s ankle. “So, maybe you can steer us toward something fun and a little edgy that won’t necessitate a trip to the Emergency Room.”
“We’ve all been there,” Janet says with a dismissive wave, like sprained ankles are a common occurrence for those who want to get out of their comfort zone in the bedroom.
I chance a look up at Blue but instead of being shocked or annoyed at my comment, he seems almost…proud? I can’t quite puzzle out his expression, but that’s fine because Janet’s rattling off ideas at a rapid fire pace. Before I know it, our wicker picnicbasket is full, our new friend is inviting us to a couples’ massage class the shop is hosting next week, and Blue’s hand is still clasped in mine.
Strangely, I’m okay with all of it.
“Are you judging my meal choice?” I ask Blue. He’s been eying up my plate since the server set it down a few minutes ago. I understand that chicken tenders and fries aren’t the most sophisticated meal choice available, but they are delicious. I was ready to head back to school after our shopping trip, but Blue insisted that he was starving and might not make it to the highway without sustenance, so we found a sports bar at the end of the block and decided to eat here. Our food arrived in record time, and now he’s staring at my plate.
“No judgment here,” he says, raising his hands up by his head like he’s been caught stealing. “Lust? Yes,” he admits. “But judgment? Nope.”
“You’re lusting after my food? That burger is as big as your head. And most people get fries or onion rings as a side, not another burger.”
“Now who’s judging?” he asks, swiping a fry from my plate.
