Page 4 of A London Little's Bunny

“—Daddy.”

They spoke the word at the exact same time, and stared at each other. Essie could feel her pulse racing, her heart pounding, and she took a deep shuddery breath in at the exact time Ben did.

Chapter Three

“What happened?” asked Briana, when she got back from the bathroom.

Essie was sat there, slightly poleaxed, her mouth opening and closing. “We’re going to grab some food after work.”

“Oh yeah?” Briana waggled her eyebrows. “Like that is it?”

“Yeah.”

The other woman huffed a laugh. “Well isn’t that the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”

Essie stuck her tongue out at Bri, and then started eating her lunch, before it got too cold.

Two minutes later, Ben came back into the office with the aforementioned pint of water. He placed it on the table firmly and said, “I want the whole thing finished in half an hour, and I will come and top it up.”

Essie’s eyes widened, but when she went to protest he shot her a knowing look and she found herself squirming in her seat, and gulping water down quite quickly.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, the only sounds being pencil on paper as she managed to get another two bunnies designed, and Ben popping in to check on her water consumption. By the time it hit five o’clock, Ben was waiting quietly by the door for her as she swapped numbers with Briana.

“I’m her check in,” said Briana.

“What about my check in?” joked Ben. “Because I have a feeling that you”—he addressed this to Essie—“are going to be somewhat of a handful.”

Essie rolled her eyes.

Briana laughed, but squeezed Essie’s hand. “I’m at Susie’s tonight, so if you need anything, please call.”

She nodded.

“Can we have a chat first?” said Ben.

“Of course.”

He went to sit down, stood up, then sat back down again.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m nervous.”

She knew how that felt, but she couldn’t tell what he was nervous about: the date; her; or something else altogether.

“I’m trans,” he said, and his shoulders were tight, as if he were waiting for some kind of monumental fallout. All Essie wanted to do was hug him.

“Cool,” she said. “I’m cis. And bi.”

There was a pause, as if he were waiting for her to say something else, so she did, because coming out was hard.

“My best friend’s a trans guy, not—” she added, “—to do that whole ‘but I’m friends with a trans person’ thing, but to let you know that there are queer people in my life. That I’m part of a queer community. I’d like to think that I’m good with different gender presentations.”

“Don’t you want to ask about my…bits?”

Essie looked horrified. “Why would I…? No, I don’t want to ask about your bits. If we decide that we’re going to sleep together, or be physically intimate, then we can both have a conversation about what we like in bed, and I imagine that it might be something you want to talk about, but I have no intention of going around asking what your bits are. Who the fuck have you been dating who’s been asking that?”

The relief in Ben’s eyes was so intense that she walked over and sat on the chair next to him. “Lots of people want to know,” he said quietly.

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