Page 15 of Temptation at Randy's

I was a sucker for the hurt puppies that needed to build their self-esteem.

Shit.

“But, uh, what I wanted to ask is, have you… done anything else? Other than going to munches, I mean.”

Oh, boy. She really was new to this. “I’ve been to a couple of local clubs a few times. They aren’t my favorite thing, to be honest, but they’re still cool, and I like the people.”

“I’m terrified it will be too overwhelming.”

“Nah.” If I said it wasn’t overwhelming, that had to mean something. “Just don’t go on a day when there’s a special theme, or an event or workshop you’re not super comfortable with. And check the club rules. Some will not allow any play outside of private or semi-private rooms.”

“Right.” Arlene swallowed, but she looked like she was taking note of it. I supposed it was better than what was becoming her usual panic. “I still don’t think I could ever go alone.”

I did, but it wasn’t relevant to this. I just did because I didn’t want someone bugging me about it—at least, not when it wasn’t on my terms, and when I hadn’t made my peace with what it meant and what I wanted it to mean.

I didn’t even attend a munch until I’d sorted through all of it. But we were facing different issues. At least, that was the vibe I got, and I got a good eye for those.

Never steered me wrong, and all that.

“That’s fine. We could go together one day if you want? I could ask Cin if they know a day when it’ll be more quiet.”

No big deal, right? No reason to freak out, either, because I was offering to go to a dungeon with someone else. If today didn’t feel like a date already—gay panic aside—going together to a dungeon definitely counted as one.

Shit.

“I’d love that, actually.”

…Yeah, I was screwed.

FIVE

Arlene

Somehow—and to Dad’s amusement—I managed to unstick from my phone screen long enough to grab my things and leave the office. For a finance company, he was pretty strict about no one staying after hours if they could avoid it.

I was usually the first one out of the building, but I kept getting distracted all day with Claude’s texts. Apparently new age PR companies had a very lax policy on use of phones. My dad was a bit more traditional, although being strict had never been his thing. It depended on the day.

He’d lean on the strict side if he caught wind of my latest exchange with Claude. We’d been texting on and off all day. I’d been thinking about asking them to meet up, but their boss was making them do overtime because of some new client.

It annoyed me to degrees that went beyond logic.

When Claude had eventually left, after I had to insist they take some of the cheesecake bars to their place, I’d thought that was it. Sure, I could look back and acknowledge that it hadn’t all been a complete disaster. I’d genuinely believed there was not going to be a second anything, though.

But then they texted a link to a gossip site about a baking show with the messiest contestants. We’d been texting ever since—which had been two days ago. So, maybe I was getting a bit attached and jumping the gun too soon.

I mean, jokes about sapphics being oblivious aside, there was a chance of something, right? I’d take anything, too—friends, friends with benefits… Whatever. I wasn’t picky.

There was no finding out if I was moving too fast or not, though, if Claude’s boss kept them in an office where I could not test all my admittedly very hormonal inner ramblings and wishful thinking.

It wasn’t just me, though. Sure, I was on the bus on my way home rereading the last texts we’d exchanged, and my stomach fluttered with nerves, but… Even if I’d always felt more comfortable over texts than I did in person, I’d never opened up so much with someone I hadn’t been friends with for years.

Claude

Can I ask you something personal?

Arlene

Go ahead

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