#
“Are you going straighthome?”
I wanted to think Flynn’s expression was hopeful, but perhaps he was just satisfied by the amount of food he’d just consumed.After all, I was fighting the urge to rub my full stomach, contentedly, as we faced each other on the sidewalk.
“Why, were you hoping I’d come finish cleaning up your apartment?”
The shrug was awkward.“Something like that.”
“I’m meant to be opening the shop tomorrow morning.”
“So call and tell them you can’t do it.”
A spark of annoyance, deep in my chest.“I’m the manager, that’s not an option.Look, just because it’s a thrift store...”
“I wasn’t saying it’s not important,” he interrupted.“But you have staff, right?Volunteers?It doesn’t always have to be you.There could be times you get sick, or...”His voice trailed off.
“Or decide that having sex is more pressing than doing my job?”
I wasn’t even sure whether I was annoyed any more.Or, for that matter, what I thought my answer to that question actually was.
“If you don’t want to stay you can just say that.”
There was no holding back my sigh.“It’s not that.”
“Okay.”Flynn didn’t sound convinced.
“You could come back with me.”
He frowned.“I have work in the morning.”
I stared at him, until he grimaced.It didn’t take long.
“Fine, yes, okay.I get it.You made your point.”
I had, but it didn’t feel much like victory.
“I should...I mean, traffic.You know.”
Flynn nodded.
“I had...”
“Thank you,” he said, interrupting.“For turning around.I shouldn’t have called you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not glad I did.”
My smile was awkward; Flynn made it sound like I was some sort of selfless friend, whereas I wasn’t entirely convinced that my motivations were so pure.“Are you gonna be okay?”
His smile didn’t look much more natural than mine had.“Drive safe, okay?”
He was warm when I wrapped my arms around him.After a moment, Flynn squeezed me in return.
#
For an over-thinker, the drive home was a blessing and a curse.Or, at least, that was how it should’ve been.Just myself, the dull drone of wheels on asphalt, and maybe the radio buzzing away to itself in the background.
Instead my brain felt like a grey balloon.Inflated to near-bursting point in my skull, and the terrifying sense that if I entertained one more thought it might rupture altogether.
The problem was, Flynn was great sex, and - despite the years of resentment I’d felt - a decent guy, but there just wasn’t a way that I could see for us to be anything more.
