Page 28 of Submissive Lies

EIGHT

I crossed the street from the café where I’d had my epiphany and ducked back into the hall. I hadn’t paid attention to how long I’d been gone, but as I walked back towards the exhibit, I could see other people still eating and talking, which meant less than thirty minutes had passed since I’d left. As I came up to our space, I caught sight of Steve sitting on a crate, using it as a make-shift table. With one hand he was eating something out of a small plastic bag sitting next to him, a book in the other.

“Oh! Hey there.” He moved as he noticed me approach, arms bracing against the crate, muscles flexing as he leveraged himself forward.

“Please! Don’t get up, it’s fine,” I said, waving him back.

With a deliberate grin, he ignored my entreaty, slipping off the crate until he stood in front of me. “Did you get something to eat?”

“No.” I gave him a sheepish smile, glancing down. “Honestly, I got so caught up in stuff I completely forgot.”

“Oh! Well, here.” He motioned towards the small bag on the crate. “It’s only trail mix, but it’s good stuff, I swear.”

He took up the bag and held it out towards me. I started to demur, but at that moment my stomach answered for me, giving off a growl loud enough to be heard by both of us. Heat crept across my cheeks, trailing down onto my neck as Steve pinned me in place with a mock stern gaze.

“Well, I guess something’s telling me I should.” He handed me the bag with a grin, and I reached in, taking a handful. He was right. It was good. The taste and texture screamed homemade. If it wasn’t, it was something purchased from a specialty store, and not one of those processed bulk-bin places. I ate one handful, then took another while we both stood there, looking around.

“If you’d like, I can go grab you something. There’s not a lot around here, but I know a couple of decent places—”

“No.” My hand came up to forestall him, fingers wide. “No, it’s okay. Thank you so much. This is fine, really.” I shook the bag to show how much lighter it was than a moment ago and offered it back to him.

He pushed it back towards me. “No, please, take the rest. I’m good.”

I shrugged and reached into the bag, taking out another mouthful. He smiled as I followed it with another, my hunger now getting the best of me. Steve made no comment as I ate, but watched with a look that suggested he didn’t mind in the slightest that I was scarfing down all of his food. While I was embarrassed, my hunger was enough to override it, and his grin grew wider at each handful I took. He was trying not to let it show, but the twinkling of his eyes as I reached for another handful showed he was pleased I was enjoying the food.

“Can I ask you a question,” I asked between bites. The food hitting my stomach was welcome and though it gave another low growl, I knew my hunger was abating.

“Sure!”

I motioned towards his face, almost reaching out to touch him before I stopped myself. “Do you, um, ski?”

His eyebrow arched upwards. “I do,” he drew the answer out, head leaning to one side. “How did you know that?”

This time I moved my hand a little closer, tracing the air in front of him to the contour of the tan lines I had noticed. “It’s just… I can kind of see…”

His eyebrows beetled as he followed the path of my finger before he caught on to what I was indicating and laughed. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t even think about that. It’s been a few weeks, but I guess it’s still showing.”

“It is.”

“So…” He mirrored my smile, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to admit something to you.”

My stomach did a little flip, adrenaline spiking. A flash of anticipation of what he might say made me gulp as I waited for him to continue.

“I’m not from Chicago.”

I cocked my head. Okay, not exactly what I’d expected, but still interesting.

“I’m not a local guy. I’m an out-of-towner from Colorado. Marty’s been bouncing me around a few cities since I started working for him. He wants to get me experience before he lets me take on my own city.”

“Oh!” I understood now. “Well, congratulations! How long have you been doing this?”

“Five months. When Marty’s satisfied I’ve gotten enough experience, I’ll take over an opening in Denver if it’s available, or wherever else he might have.”

“Oh, Denver. I’ve done a few shows there. And now I think I understand the whole ski face.” I traced a finger in the air once again towards his tan.

“Yeah.” His smile was assured, the laugh self-deprecating. “Season’s actually still going back home, but I got called for this set, so off the slopes for me.” He looked down, and then his eyes came up, locking onto mine. “And I’m glad I did.”

Ho boy.

---