“A man in a paramedics program needs protein. Make your butter-basted fish, Winnie,” Dad says.
“Dad, please…”
“Can you make mushroom tarts for the shop?” Kathy begs as she picks through the apples.
“Yes, Winnie, update the menu. Let’s make mushroom tarts.” Mom puts on her reading glasses.
“What if the guy who kissed you was one of the parental dating squad?” Carolina hisses in my ear.
“I don’t think it was him. This guy was tall,” I whisper back. My skin feels hot and prickly as I think back to last night. “He was muscular.”
“Muscle suit,” Carolina says flatly. “Your stalker isn’t going to be hot and rich. Those types of guys don’t have to stalk women and kiss them randomly.”
“Could be a kink.”
“So a red flag?” Carolina won’t let it go. “You are technically my employer. I don’t need you to be kidnapped and chopped up into Winnie stew or something.”
Carolina’s wrong,I decide later that night as I’m curled up on the couch downstairs trying to sleep.
Gran snores, and I can hear her through the walls.
I think the stalker is into me.
I think he cares about me.
I don’t think he was just after me for sex, though.
I squirm.
I’m totally into him for that.
I know I’m being dumb, know he’s probably dangerous.
I think about him—the leather, machine oil, and ink smell of him, like a book hero come to life.
The mysterious antihero.
And it’s clear he wants me.
It’s thrilling.
Could be fake.
Just like—
I slap the thought down.
That was old me, Winnie when she was young and dumb.
New Winnie just makes out with strange men in dark alleys.
But damn, what a kiss.
I always thought that no one would ever kiss me like He Who Shall Not Be Named.
I toss on the couch, uncomfortably swollen in my damp panties.
I want relief.
