Page 4 of Just a Number

“It’s all good, love. I’ve got a date with a crime show on Netflix.” I lean my head into his shoulder for a moment—with both my hands full, it’s all I can manage—and then I leave the kitchen to head back upstairs.

It’s not long before my pizza and wine are gone and I’m fully engrossed in the crime show about a serial killer from the 1970’s. Movement catches my eye from the doorway and I jump.

Alex stands confidently in the doorway, his long legs ensconced in jeans. He’s taken off his biker jacket, leaving his forearms bare in his black t-shirt. My attention catches on the colourful tattoos there as my hand comes up to cover my throat, my heart beating fast.

“Oh, Alex, you scared me. Everything okay?”

“Sorry, Zack sent me up to the bathroom. Someone’s using the downstairs one. Think he might have had one too many beers.”

I grimace, sincerely hoping I won’t have a mess to clear up later. “It’s just down at the end of the hall.” I point him in the right direction, listening to the soft thud of his footsteps as he moves away and then try to get back into the television show I’m watching. But it’s hard to focus when my mind is on the guy just down the hallway.

Chapter two

Alex

Zack’s mum is hot. It’s official. She opened the door to me tonight, and I enjoyed getting a good look at her as she did the same to me. She’s shorter than me, wearing some kind of sweater dress over leggings which showed off her petite curves. Long, blonde tresses pour over her shoulders. Pale blue eyes with long lashes. And her lips were smudged with some kind of pink lipstick. It’s long gone now. Probably from the pizza and wine she had.

I finish my business in the bathroom and wash my hands, trying to decide if I should hurry past her bedroom where she was lying on the bed when I saw her a moment ago. Or should I stop and see if I can get her talking?

She looked delicious, all laid out, her concentration riveted to the television and not noticing at first as I approached. It was a shame she sensed me, as I could have quite happily stood and watched her for a while.

I unlock the bathroom door and step out. There are muted voices coming from her room and I guess she’s still watching the TV. I pause by her door and look in. I wonder if she had been listening for me because she pauses the show and looks in my direction as soon as I get close.

“Find it okay?” she asks. She’s not smiling, but her face seems softer than it did earlier. Maybe the wine mellowed her out some.

“Yep. I’ll get out of your way and leave you to your show.” I begin to step backwards, but she calls my name softly.

“Alex, wait. So, you work with Zack at the Arts Centre?”

“I work in one of the units there. We got to talking one day and realised we had a few things in common.”

“Which unit do you work in? I know a few of the artists there.”

“I’m at the ceramics workshop.”

“You help out there?” she queries.

“I create there. I’m a potter.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Not what you were expecting?” I ask from where I am now leaning against the doorframe. She’s not the first person to be surprised at my line of work.

“What do you make?” There’s a slight blush beginning to creep up her neck, making me wonder if her skin flushes when she comes.Down, boy! This is Zack’s mum. You can’t be thinking stuff like that about her.

“All sorts. It’s like an apprenticeship. Part-time as I need to earn actual money to live. But I’ve learnt heaps in the time I’ve been there.”

“That sounds fascinating. Have you always been drawn to the creative arts?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Always loved drawing and making shit as a kid. Never really grew out of it. Tried pottery at school and got hooked.” She seems genuinely interested in what I have to say and I find myself warming to her. “What do you do?” I ask.

“Ah, nothing as exciting as ceramics. I’m in events management. We’ve used the Arts Centre for some events, which is why I know a few people there.”

She seems to realise she’s sprawled out on the bed as she suddenly sits up and swings her feet around and onto the floor. Shame. I enjoyed her lying there, looking relaxed.

“What are you watching?” I tilt my head in the direction of the television that’s still on pause.

“It’s a drama series about the Yorkshire Ripper.”

“You like crime stuff?” I ask, unsure why I’m lengthening this conversation with her. I really should be heading back downstairs to see whose arse I get to kick next in whatever game has been picked. But there’s something that keeps me here, wanting to talk to her. Zack’s great, but I don’t know his friends yet and I’m finding it easier to make conversation with his mum than them.What’s that about?

“Yeah, I like all sorts. This is good for helping me switch off after work. I usually get engrossed, and it helps me relax.”

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