“I don't need—"
"Shut up and let me hug you, John."
Slowly, carefully, his arms come around me. I'm completely engulfed. I melt into him, very aware of how my soft body fits against his hard one.
"This is nice," I mumble into his chest.
"It's adequate."
We stay like that longer than necessary. When we pull apart, something's shifted. He looks at me differently.
"Saturday. Pick you up at 1:30. Wear something you can dance in. Any other requests?"
"Whatever makes you happy, little bunny."
My stomach flips. "John? We're going to be okay, right? This will work?"
He cups my face with one massive hand. "I've got you. No one's going to make you feel bad. Not on my watch."
The irony is he's already making me feel small. In the best way. In a way I've been craving without admitting it.
"Thank you," I whisper.
He nods, heads for the door. Pauses. "Bunny? The unicorn pajamas on your bed. They suit you."
He's gone before I can respond, leaving me standing in my too-pink apartment, heart racing, wondering what I've gotten myself into.
three
John
Theweddingisapproachingand Bunny's lost her mind.
She calls me at 6 AM, panicking about Patricia's questionnaire. "She sent me huge list of questions about us, including 'describe your intimate frequency'!"
"Tell her it's none of her fucking business."
"I can't say that! She's going to be family! Then make something up."
"I'm bad at lying! I turn red and giggle nervously. Last time I tried to lie, I ended up confessing to three other things I didn't even do!"
I sigh. "Come over after work. We'll go through the questions together."
"Really? You'd do that?”
“Can't have you confessing to crimes you didn't commit."
She laughs. It's a nice sound. "What's your address?"
I give her directions to my cabin, then spend the day second-guessing myself. My space is mine. I have my buddies over for poker sometimes, but that's different. This is... intimate.
She shows up at 7 PM wearing a pink winter coat that makes her look like cotton candy. She's carrying two bags.
"I brought dinner! Figured you could use a real meal.”
“I cook."
"Heating protein shakes doesn't count." She pushes past me into the cabin, then stops. "Oh."
