She was so sweet but so adamant. Curtailing me at every turn.
My phone beeps, a reply from Lily saying thanks and informing me they’re all staying at Zach’s house for the time being.
That puts paid to my flimsy scenario. Even if I was still keen on going inside, I now have absolutely no excuse.
After my shift at work, it’s now past nine. Not late-late, but too late to turn up uninvited. Soon those shadows moving behind the curtain will be relaxing for the night, getting tucked up in bed, going to sleep.
I turn the radio on, listening to the news broadcast as I adjust my seat to be comfier, settling in for a long stay.
As the channel switches back to music, I close my eyes, imagining the girl moving around on the other side of the curtain. The lips that are so plump they have a crease in the centre, shaded like the inside of a strawberry and I bet they’d be as sweet under my tongue.
Not that I want to touch her. Not for real.
Except, if I concentrate, I can feel the difference where the neckline of her blouse turns into skin, one rough, one smooth. I rub against the side of my jeans as I imagine how the textural changes would vibrate across the pad of my thumb, how it would spread like a ripple across my body, igniting every sense along the way.
Spit pools in my mouth as I think of how her eyelids look so heavy. How slowly they’d open in the morning, turning over, reaching for me. I’d have the caress of her hands against me long before they pulled apart enough to catch a glimpse. Her tongue would snake out, licking those swollen lips, snagging the edge between her even white teeth, a gentle tease to ease me into the fullness of the day.
The song changes and I startle out of my daydream, my teeth snapping shut with enough force they make a sound.
I rub a hand over my face, wondering where the hell all these ideas came from. My favoured romps involve a screen and at least one free hand. Aside from that, I wouldn’t even know where to start.
My eyes sweep across the windows, still lit from within, still with the flickers of movement that means at least two people are awake and moving around inside.
I wonder if one of them is Rosa’s boyfriend or if not that, a booty call. The angel on my shoulder insists it will be her flatmate, the devil suggests something far raunchier.
Neither of which should matter because she’s not my girl.
Movement catches my eye and I squint, trying to make out a shape at the edge of the house. The congruence of darkness against the pool of light from the streetlamp makes it hard to see anything.
I let my eyes rest on the spot, letting them relax, then see the motion again.
Far bigger than a domestic pet. Something moving at the corner of the house.
I sink farther into my seat, trying to hide myself from view. But that’s a wasted effort. I’ve been parked out here for a good twenty minutes now. If it is a person sneaking alongside the house, they’ve had chance enough to see me.
Instead, I take care opening the door, trying for silence and nearly getting there. I don’t worry about shutting it—the noise will instantly draw attention and if someone wants to steal my car, they’re welcome to it. I’d gladly take the new replacement from insurance.
Squatting in the shadows behind the vehicle, I try to pick out the same figure I saw before. Once I separate it from every other dark shape across the road, I keep it in my peripheral, waiting for it to move again so I can give chase or sneak across while it’s out of sight.
The figure slowly moves again, this time disappearing through a gate to the side of the property. A second later, I cut across to the front yard, moving on the balls of my feet. I’m a big guy but I can be quiet when I want.
I merge with the shadows, my head tilted for noise and motion. When I hear the snap of a twig, my heart thumps with anticipation. I flex my fingers, exercising the joints in anticipation of the fight I’ve been craving.
The confrontation is so welcome, I can taste blood in the back of my throat as I slip through the gate, my back pressed against the wooden slats of the outside wall, picking my path with care until I can peer around the corner.
The shadowy figure is halfway across the yard, fiddling with something at their belt.
Giving up on silence, I bolt straight for them, aiming for a tackle. They turn to run, and I misjudge, hitting them lower than I want, thumping them to the ground.
My chest lands on their boots, the heavy soles knocking the wind out of me. The person gives a rough grunt as they fall, then they rear up and kick back, catching me on the side of the head.
“Stop,” I yell, happy to alert the people inside to our presence. “I’ve called the police.”
That earns me a double kick, the force of the second stunning me so I lose track of what my hands are doing, releasing my grip.
The figure is up, running again, too quick for me to catch them. I roll onto my back, the night filled with so many stars they can’t all be real. There’s warm liquid dripping down the side of my face and I fervently hope it’s only blood.
I’m on my knees by the time the back door cracks open and Rosa comes out to investigate.
