Page 31 of Just One Moment

“Shutup orI’llremove the pooper scooper and you can pick upCurly’ssh—oh, hey!”Ishout in panic whenIseeQuinnstanding at the edge of the kitchen.Turningaway,Ibend myhead and whisper into the phone. “Forwardme those texts.Goodbye.”

Afterhanging up,Islam my phone down on the countertop and spin around to face her.She’sin a pair of pink sweats, a whiteT-shirt tied at the waist, and yellow fuzzy socks.Herhair is split in two and braided back from her face.Shelooks fresh, cozy, and delicious.

“Sorry,Ididn’t mean to interrupt.”Shelooks around the space with a slightly apprehensive expression.It’smy responsibility to make her feel at home, but how the fuck doIdo that?Oh, here you go,Quinn, want to do a crossword with me until you die of boredom?No.Ididn’t think this through.She’sgoing to regret taking up my offer in less than twenty-four hours when she realizesI’mnot only boring and dull but can’t string a coherent sentence together to save my life.

“Umm.Didyou get settled in your room okay?”Iask.

“Yes, thank you.It’sa really nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks.”

Westand there, her rocking on the balls of her feet and me trying my best not to spontaneously combust.It’sobvious neither of us are sure how to navigate these next steps.There’sno manual for our situationship, but considering it’s my idea,Ineed to be the one to take the lead.

Thebuzzer sounds andIexcuse myself, running down the stairs to collect the food.WhenIreturn,IfindQuinnbalancing on her tiptoes, reaching for the bowls on the top shelf.Themovement causes herT-shirt to ride up, revealing the tiniest sliver of skin that shouldn’t make me hard as stone.

“Letme.”Irush over and set down the bag of food on the counter.

She’strying her best, huffing and puffing, but her fingertips barely reach the middle shelf.Steppingup behind her,Ipull two bowls down with ease, not really thinking about our positioning until the front of my pants brushes against the small ofher back.Whenshe drops down from her tiptoes and grazes against my now-hardening dick, the sensation stalls the breath in my throat.

Shestills when my hand drops to her shoulder, pausing her movements but also desperate to pull back the braid and press my lips to her pulse point, just to test if it races as wildly as mine.Imight be mistaken, butIswear she pushes her hips back, pressing into me, both of us hissing when she finds the evidence of what she does to me.Herbreathing turns into short pants.

WhatIwouldn’t do to feel them being exhaled against my skin.

Therewas an electric current running through me earlier when we hugged.Now, a high-voltage wire wraps itself around me, dangerously close to touching the pool of desire sitting between us.Iknow the second it makes contact, electricity will flash, scorch, and burn.

Itwould be incredible.

Only,I’dbe left burned at the end.Reelingfrom the aftermath of knowing what it would be like to have her only temporarily.

Myhand flexes before reluctantly pulling away to plate the food up and grab us both some drinks.

Theconfused and dazed look in her eyes as we settle on the sofa across from each other has nothing to do with what happened in the kitchen.Itcan’t be.

Wesit on opposite ends of the sofa, splitting padThai, green curry, mini shrimp lettuce wraps, and dumplings.Icould have sat in the armchair and played it safe; not allowed myself to be overcome by her intoxicating scent.

I’mgladIwas a risk taker tonight.

Weeat in silence, sharing brief looks in between bites.Idon’t watchTVoften, it’s more decorative than anything, andIpanicked whetherIshould have put it on as we eat, but she seems content without it.

Icould ask her how her day went.

MaybeIshould ask her what recipes she’s thinking of trying out next.

Checkwith her about what foods she likes.

Ispend so much time overthinking what to say to her, that by the time we’ve finished eating, the moment has passed.Shelooks exhausted and is probably sore after sleeping on the hard floor of the bakery last night.Weneed to discuss what to do about convincing people we’re an item, but that can wait until tomorrow.

You’dthinkIwas the guest in this apartment with my rigid posture; spine flush against the sofa, shoulders back, and feet firmly planted on the ground.WhereasQuinnsits cross-legged, withCurlysnoring at her feet. “You’veprobably had a long day.Tomorrow, after work, we should talk about how this is going to go.”

“Ah, yes.Ialmost forgot whyIwas here.”Shesmirks.

“I’venever done this before, have you?”Iwince. “Fuck, that’s a dumb question, of course you haven’t.”

Itsucks that the probability of being hit by a meteor is 1:840,000,000.

“Howabout we start with who knows this isn’t real?”she asks and strokesCurly’sears.

“Patrick,Johanna, andBooth.Oh, and my sister,Florence.”

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