Oh Lord

There must be something you can say

He also found that he could sit against the wall for hours on end and no one would bother him. Well, except for Phee.

“So I gotta come get you every night? Is that the deal?”

She plopped down next to him, imitating his cross-legged and back-against-the-wall pose. He closed the book, marking the spot with a finger and looked up at her. Her hair was loose, out of its bun. The respectable pearl earrings were gone, a set of silver skull and cross bones in their place.  

“I didn’t know you wanted me to come back.”

“I have to say out loud that I want you to come back? Did you want to come back?”

He shook his head, laughing. “Don’t get all complicated on me, Phoenix.”

She frowned, a deep V forming between her eyebrows. He expected her to protest calling her by her full name but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she poked at his boots. “You got new shoes? Sorta?”

JC uncrossed his legs and stretched them out. He kicked the shoes together, smiling at the dust and dried paint that flew off of them. “Let’s say I’m working for them.”

“Okay. Whatever that means. So what’d you do today?”

“Worked. On a construction crew.” He pointed towards his shoes and laughed. “That’s where the boots came from.”

She brightened, sitting up straight. “You worked? Good for you. See, getting up early was worth it.”

He was proud, if he had to say so himself. “Working tomorrow, too. The foreman asked me to come back. They pay extra on the weekend.”

“Wow,” she said, her smile growing. “Fat pockets. They pay good?”

He nodded. “$75 today. I don’t know about tomorrow, I’m hoping for an even hundred.”

“Well, good. I’m proud of you.”

He put the book away, slipping it into an open pocket in the bag. “What kind of trouble are you getting into, tonight?”

“I’m just out,” she answered. “Checking on some folks. Saw you sitting here, thought I’d say hi and give you shit for not coming by.”

“Am I one of the people you check on?”

“Sometimes. If no one has seen you for awhile, I start looking.”

He shook his head, lightly chuckling. He was touched, sort of. “That’s creepy, Phee.”

She laughed. “Most people appreciate it, asshole.”

“We already talked about how I’m not most people.”

“Fine, I won’t watch out for you then, if you don’t want me to.”

“I didn’t say that. I just said it’s creepy.”

“You asked if I check on you. I’m supposed to lie?”

“I’ll quit asking, then.”

“Deal.”

A long but comfortable pause lingered between them as they watched the dusk turn to night. Traffic was thick and the street seemed busy, like there was some kind of event.  

“So what’d you do, today?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Laundry,” she said. “I have friends in that department so we shoot the shit while we’re working, otherwise I’d be bored to death folding towels for hours. We have to stock all of the maid carts before 11am. That’s when the maids go out to clean the rooms. Then they bring towels back when they’re done with rooms and those have to be washed, dried and folded. After lunch, I covered the front desk for a little bit and delivered some dry cleaning.”

“Sounds like a full day. Feels good to work.”

“Yeah. When you’ve been without it for awhile, it does.” She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, but didn’t pull one out and light up. JC eyed her, tilting his head in confusion. “I haven’t had one since this morning. Kinda trying to quit.”

“Not because of me?”

She blushed and put both items away. “Just starting to think that maybe you’re right about how they’ll kill me.”

“Well, you should quit because you want to, not because I made some comment.”

“I guess I never thought about it, before. I’ve just always smoked. It was cool to smoke when I was a kid. Now? It’s just a habit. Trying to cut down some.”

“Cool. Whatever.”

“So are you sleeping out, tonight?”

He shrugged, not answering. She seemed like she wanted him to say no, to ask to come over. He wasn’t going to make it that easy for her.

“Well, if you have to work tomorrow, you should get good sleep. You could come by.”

“Since you’re asking.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled while doing it. “I’m not asking. I’m offering.”

“Fine, then. Since you’re offering. Do you have more people to check on or are you dragging me back to your place right now?”

She uncrossed her legs and stood, offering him a hand. “I’m dragging you back to my place right now.”

He stood without her help, slipped the strap of the bag over his shoulder, and fell into step beside her. Her arm brushed against his about every other step. Not that he minded, but he noticed it.

“The bag’s working out, looks like. Better than your old one.”

“Yeah. It’s bigger.”

“Sucks to have to drag it around all the time, doesn’t it?”

“I’m used to it, I guess.”

They talked as they walked the few blocks to her place, the space on State Street that was cramped but as comfortable as his old apartment had been. JC told her all about his day. Phee seemed to think he received special treatment from Jeff and wondered what it meant. He didn’t really want to question it. It was like this—whatever it was—that was going on with Phee. He wasn’t refusing it or questioning it. It just happened. If people were offering, he was taking.

At her room, he shrugged off the bag and the coat, piling them neatly in a corner near the desk.

“So you ate something? For dinner I mean, since you had money.”

JC assumed his usual seat on the mattress with the book. “Hot dog. But if you’re making food, I’ll eat some.”

They had chili and corn chips and watched some sitcoms on TV before Phee got up to take her shower. She came out, wrapped in a towel, and shooed him into the bathroom. “Shower anyway,” she said when he protested.

He gave up, rifled through his bag for his sweats and t-shirt and stalked to the bathroom. He started the shower and began to strip off layers of clothing but stopped when he noticed that there wasn’t a towel and a bar of soap waiting for him like before. Without thinking, he opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Phee. I need a—“

She squealed and dove for the towel that she’d tossed onto the mattress, but not quickly enough. He’d seen plenty.

Phee shoved the corners of the towel under her armpits. Her entire body glowed pink. “What do you need?”

“Uhm…”

His brain wouldn’t work. It was still full of the sight of her thin waist and wide hips, perky teardrop breasts, a  flat belly that invited a graze of his lips and—this he was sure he’d seen—a well-manicured strip of hair.

“What?!” Her screech popped him out of his reverie. He blinked away the vision of her and came to.

“Towel,” he choked out. “I need a towel and some soap.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She pointed toward the desk, but stayed crouched on the mattress, clutching the towel to her body. “The basket on top has towels and the one under it has some stuff from the hotel. Soap and lotion and stuff.”

Quietly, he retrieved his towel and soap and stiffly walked back to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. His chest hurt from holding in the gust of air that he could finally push out of his lungs.

Fuck. He wished he hadn’t seen her. His sex drive had awakened after a cold winter’s nap and now thrummed at a constant state of turned on.

*****

Phee didn’t say anything about the night before and neither did JC. He preferred to just pretend it didn’t happen, if that was okay with her. 

“So, listen. You don’t have to drag your bag around all day, if you don’t want to. You can leave it here.”

She slid her feet into an understated pair of black shoes. She was already wearing her uniform, her hair in a long, low ponytail and the requisite pearl earrings in her ears. She dug through her bag and produced a key ring with a single key on it. She tossed it across the room and he plucked it from the air.

“In case you get back here before me.” 

He fingered the steel ring and the silver key attached and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. It would be nice to not have to drag the bag around all day. He hadn’t been without a bag on his back in a long time.

“Thanks,” he said slipping his arms into his coat. From his bag, he retrieved the book he’d been reading. He needed something to occupy his time during the ride to and from the site and during lunch.

They walked together to the bus stop. On the way, she lit up her first cigarette since the day before.  “I’ve built up a lot of hours, huh?”

He grinned, teasing her. “Smoking them away now, though.”

“See, that’s the shit that makes me feel bad about smoking and makes me want to quit.”

“If you want to quit, then quit. You want a cookie for smoking less?”

“A little credit for trying would be nice.”

He stopped at the bench and took a seat next to her, downwind from the trail of smoke. “You’re doing really good so far. One a day is an improvement. Happy?”

“Very. Was that so hard?” The cigarette dangled from between two fingers, the ashes building on the end as it burned. “You got plans for tonight?”

“Not yet. You want to do something?”

“Maybe.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged, sucking down another lungful, turning her head to blow it out. “Dunno. Get some food, something good. Watch a movie, maybe. You don’t drink, so we can’t party.”

“I don’t mind, if you want to party—“

“It’s okay. The good stuff that won’t fuck you up is expensive, anyway. Think about it. Something you haven’t done in awhile. We’ll go do it. Celebrate, you know?”

“Celebrate what? Two days of work?” He laughed, which was more of a snort than a laugh. “Let’s see if I can make it three.”

Phee paused for a beat, sucked her cigarette to the filter and leaned over the smash the tip into the pavement. “You’re real negative, you know.”

“Just realistic,” he said.

“Be less realistic,” she said, her tone dry and void of her usual wit. “Your life is as real as it gets. You don’t need to be more real. You need some hope and some fantasy and some joy. A little bit, at least.”

He sighed, thankful that he saw the Number 34 coming to take Phee to work. “I’ll work on that. Have a good day.”

She rolled her eyes as she stood and reached into her bag for bus fare. “Think about what you want to do tonight. Just having fun.  Okay?”

JC gave her a solitary nod as she stepped onto the bus. When it pulled away, he turned and started walking back the way they’d come, and then past the Standard Hotel, the Golden Lantern, and six blocks further to House of Hope, where Moe lit up as soon as JC walked in. Two days in a row so early in the day was unheard of. He was fond of sleeping.

He waved and headed for the line, not much in the mood for chatting. He wanted to eat and get in line for work, so he kept his head down and loaded up a paper plate with his usual selection and sat down at his usual table.

He didn’t want to think about it. Phee. Last night. But… the vision of her was burned into his mind. She was all he could think about, ever since he stepped out of the bathroom and saw her in the dim, yellowish light of the room. She was fully nude, tugging a comb through her long hair. The way her arms were raised, it lifted her breasts up and since the room was slightly chilly, her nipples were erect and eraser tip pink in size and shape. In his mind, his eyes traveled her skin, creamy and unblemished except for the occasional dot here and there like Cindy Crawford had above her lip. It was supposed to be a sign of beauty. Whatever it was, he wanted to count them, over and over.

It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed the company of a woman. Too long. Long enough that he was considering ruining this thing he had built, however small it was, with a woman who was very generous with her time and her home for a few minutes of satisfaction. His groin tightened; he shifted in his seat. At least part of him was excited about that prospect. He shook his head, hoping to shake loose the image of her.

She doesn’t want me. She wants what I remind her of. Can’t do that to her. And remember Colin? Can’t do that to you.

*****

He almost fell asleep in the truck on the ride back to the corner. Saturdays were long, hard days because there was a smaller crew with the same amount of work to do. He worked with Jeff and the guys from the crew the day before hanging sheetrock, painting, picking up scraps, generally being helpful. Anything he thought to do, he did it. Quickly.

There was no lunch truck on Saturdays, but Jeff took care of everyone by sending out for sandwiches. They sat in the middle of the mall where there was to be a fountain but the water hadn’t been turned on yet. It was just an empty open pit surrounded by a wide brick rim. They sat facing inward, their boots hanging into the fountain, ate their sandwiches and chips and drank their sodas. JC ate quickly, dumped his garbage and stepped outside.

He settled on a nice spot in the sun, on some pavement that wasn’t too dirty or muddy and leaned up against a post. A half hour in peace and quiet, soaking up sun and Salinger seemed to be just what he needed. When lunch was over and everyone went back to work, he marked his place and tucked it away again and went back to work.

At the end of the day, he was rewarded with 5 $20 bills for his time. Jeff pulled him aside after he’d handed him the envelope.

“I need an extra man, next week. You available?” JC nodded, giddy inside. Guaranteed work for the next week was good news.  Jeff gripped his arm before he could walk away. “I need you next Saturday, but I don’t need you for six days. Pick a day, any day, to not show up.”

JC already knew he’d take Thursday off and hang out with Phee.

After the drop-off, JC headed back to Phee’s place. It was weird, being in her apartment without her. It was quiet and though it was packed to the gills, seemed empty. Her personality was so big that it filled any space, surrounded him and everything in the place. She was what made it seem comfortable.

He stripped and headed to the shower. He was just as dirty as he had been the day before and since he could take a shower, it was all he could think about.

Well, a shower and Phee. 

The day had been busy enough that he’d managed to keep his thoughts of her at bay, but right now, in the quiet and empty space, with nothing else to occupy his thoughts, his mind was full of her. Why he chose to torture himself like this, he had no idea. Maybe he just missed being near a woman who didn’t hate him the way that Rachel, his ex, did. She actually told him, to his face, that she hated him. He didn’t really blame her.

But now he’d met someone who, he was pretty sure, was sweet on him. For all the wrong reasons, but she wasn’t trying very hard to hide it and despite his fear of Colin and his innate need to do the right thing, he was having a hard time fighting it.

He stood under the spray of warm water, his hair drenched and so long it hung over his face and soaped up, rubbing away the dirt and dust and splatters of paint. His nonstop thoughts about Phee had created a chain reaction. His hand brushed across his dick once, twice, three times before he gave in and gripped it, using the slip of the water to guide his palm across the smooth, erect surface.

He let his mind wander, remembering the first morning with her when she’d boldly pulled her pants down and he got a glimpse of her plain white cotton panties. He remembered how they clung to her form and left very little to the imagination. Then he indulged himself and brought back the image from last night and pictured himself stepping over the mattress and walking up to her and pulling her to him, fitting her body up against him, feeling her heat through his clothes.

He was lightheaded and his knees buckled. He reached out and steadied himself with one hand against the tile of the shower while the other hand pumped to the brink of climax. Without realizing it, his internal grunts had escaped his clenched teeth and were bouncing off of the porcelain, echoing around the room.

“UUUUuuuunnnnngggghhhhh……..”

Release. Sweet, holy motherfucking release.

His first orgasm in ages left him limp and faint and hot, his normally pale skin taking on a pink tinge. He was overheated and out of breath, trying to suck in more, but he didn’t seem to be able to get enough air. He needed to sit down, or kneel down or… something…

Three bangs at the door brought him back to reality. “You okay in there? You’re not throwing up are you?”

Instantly, strength returned to his legs. His mind cleared and he jerked upright, dropping his now flaccid dick and sticking his head out from behind the curtain. She hadn’t opened the door, thank God, so she wouldn’t see how flush he still was.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he called, trying to sound normal and nonchalant. “Comin’…uh… be out in a sec.”

“Don’t use all the hot water. I want to hop in there.”

He didn’t answer, but he did soap up one more time and scrub himself raw before turning off the faucet and stepping out. He roughly ran the towel over his body and then wrapped it around his waist, making sure it was securely fastened before he opened the door.

“All yours,” he said, his pile of clothing in his arms. He couldn’t even look at her. No matter, it was business as usual for Phee.

“I’ll only be a few minutes. I had to work laundry again today and it’s so hot back there, I sweat through my clothes.” She grabbed a pile of clothing and closed herself off in the bathroom.  

He dug through his bag for something remotely nice and not “homeless looking” to wear. Tonight, they would have a normal night if it killed him.

When the door opened again, she was dressed in street clothes. Her hair was down; the pearl earrings were gone, small silver hoops in their place. Around her neck was a phoenix pendant strung on a simple silver chain. It hung low above the v-neck of a tight, long sleeved black shirt. She wore jeans and was shoving her feet into a pair of boots when she glanced up at him.

“What?”

He blinked. “What, what?”

“You’re staring. What? I look funny?”

“No.” He busied himself with fussing with his hair. It was too long, too curly, too dry. He hadn’t had a haircut in forever and he hadn’t been able to buy the right products for his hair in a long time. They weren’t a priority when he never knew where his next meal was coming from.

“You need a haircut.”

“No shit.”

“Want to go get one? It’ll take you an hour to tame that. I know a guy.”

He tried to comb it back, hoping it would lie down. It popped back up in a curly puff on top of his head. Irritated he snapped, “You know everybody, don’t you?”

She paused, turning to glare at him. “You don’t get very far if you don’t make friends, JC. Life out there doesn’t always have to be about humiliation and begging. There are a lot of people who are willing to help if you just ask.”

He unrolled the wool cap and pulled it on over his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad. Let’s go see your guy. I’m working next week and my hair makes me sweat more. It’s driving me crazy.”

She seemed pleased. At least she smiled and grabbed her bag and coat. “And then what?”

“And then… well, how do you feel about football?”

*****

“For the record, I hate football.”

JC laughed but ignored her bored stare up at the flat screen TV, her chin firmly planted in the palm of her hand. In front of him were remnants of a spread that was his standard football watching menu—hot wings, fries, potato skins, and nachos. On the TV above her head, two college football teams were competing. The score was neck and neck, the clock running out. JC didn’t care about either team, but he was excited to be sitting in a sports bar eating bar food and watching football.

“Ohhhhh!” He yelled up at the TV, his mouth full of fries. “Now we’re playing some football!”

The best part was that no one looked at him funny. No one was rude to him. No one assumed that he couldn’t or wouldn’t pay. He and Phee walked in, waited for the hostess, followed her to their table and sat down and ordered. Like normal.

Phee took him to a salon that offered discount haircuts to homeless and “in-betweeners”—those that were working and had a place to stay but technically didn’t have a home. That’s what she called JC.

The haircut made a dramatic difference. His head felt lighter. He wasn’t brushing hair out of his eyes or tucking it behind his ear anymore.  He didn’t have a tall, dry stack of curls anymore. It was short and sleek, now. He liked it.

So did Phee. She kept staring at him.

When the game was over, JC drained his glass and picked up the folio containing the bill. He pulled out his wallet and fingered through the bills he’d put in it, proudly plunking down enough to cover their meal and a tip.  

It was a warm day, but the temperature had dropped 10 degrees since they’d gone inside the sports bar. JC zipped his coat and Phee buttoned hers. They had to walk a few blocks to the bus stop, catch a bus and then transfer to the Number 34 route.

“Man, I missed football. Thanks for sitting through that game. I know it sucks if you don’t care about football.”

“Wasn’t that bad. It was nice being out.”

Her boots clicked on the pavement as she walked. She kept her pace to a leisurely stroll. JC kept pace with her. If she wasn’t in a hurry, neither was he. “Hey, let me ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“You ever uhm… you ever see people you used to know? I mean, from before you left?”

“Hmmm,” she said, pondering. Then, “Not really. Anyone I knew back then left when they graduated. No one comes back here once they get out.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters? Ever see them?’

“I’m the baby. I have an older brother and older sister. They’re uh… your age.” She elbowed him a few times and giggled. “They don’t live here. Like I said, people get out of here and don’t come back.”

JC smiled down at her. “Tell me your brother and sister have weird names, too. Please tell me that.”

Phee refused to answer for a few seconds, but after prodding and needling from JC, she gave in. “Okay. My sister’s name is Sunshine.” JC laughed loudly. “Right? But she’s always gone by Amy because she thinks my parents are nutters for naming her that. She won’t change it, but she won’t answer to it. Not in public anyway. And uhm, my brother’s name is Blaze. He loves his name.”

“I’d love that name. I think I’m gonna go by uh… Joaquin.”

“That’s too cool of a name. You should have to suffer like me and Sunshine.”

“You mean Amy?”

“No, I mean Sunshine. That’s what I call her because I’m a bitch like that. If I have to go by Phoenix, she has to go by Sunshine. Sometimes she answers to it.” Phee laughed a deliciously evil chuckle. JC instantly loved the sound.

“What about your parents. Do you see them?”

The glee from their conversation faded like water draining from a sink. The span of silence grew from seconds to a full minute and longer before she sighed, loud and heavy.

“I saw my mom awhile ago. She showed up at the hotel. Someone must have said they saw me there. She was all lovey-dovey, wanting to talk and catch up. She wanted me to come home.”

“You didn’t want to go?”

She shook her head, quickly. “No. My parents like to put stipulations on things. It’ll never be that I can come home and live the life I want to live. But I could go home and live the life they want me to live.”

“Which is?”

“Hah,” she bit out. “Quit associating with dirty, homeless people. We’re above that, you know. Quit my job, probably. They’d want me to get some meaningless job where I look pretty for hours on end but I’m bored shitless. They’d want me to go to school and dress differently and wear expensive, trendy clothes. After living outside, in the woods, on the river or squatting in an abandoned warehouse with no running water and nothing but a tarp to protect us from the wind?”

She shook her head, glancing up at him. “I’m not sure I can ever waste money again. Their lifestyle and how they don’t help people with any of it just makes me sick.”

JC knew that feeling well. He had a little bit of money in his pocket and that scared him, because soon it would be gone and he had no guarantees that he could replace it soon. The first habit he’d learned, out on the street, was to stretch a dollar as far as it could go.

“My mom said they had a car for me. Just sitting at home. I asked her if I could use it and she said I’d have to come home first.” She spat out the word with so much venom, it scared him. “Bitch.”

“A car would be nice for you. No more Number 34.”

“I know. And it would help me out so much. I could work more, I could help out Cass. I could give rides to people.”

Her breath was a visible puff of air as she sighed again. “Let’s stop talking about my mom, otherwise I’ll need a cigarette and one of those bottles of vodka. What about you? You see people you know? You have brothers and sisters right?”

He nodded. “One of each. I haven’t seen either in a long time. They’re kind of not talking to me because of what happened with my parents. And I haven’t seen my parents in a long time. Almost a year.”

“Any reason?”

“They’re getting back on their feet, little by little. Things are going okay for them. They don’t need me messing things up again.”

Phee slowed and then stopped. “Wait. You really think they think that?”

JC didn’t stop. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and balled into fists. His feet kept going forward and his mouth kept moving. Phee hurried to catch up again.

“Them? Nah. I’m their kid. They still love me. But I really think that. I try to call every so often to let them know I’m okay.  It kills me to talk to my mom. She always cries, and my dad is always in the background, telling her to tell me things like who’s hiring and who has cheap housing and stuff. She asks me to come home all the time.”

“And you don’t want to go?”

“They only have one bedroom. I don’t want to live in their couch. Not because it’s uncomfortable. It’s just, I feel like if I went, I wouldn’t leave.” Sort of like how he hoped he wouldn’t have to leave Phee’s any time soon. At least until it wasn’t so cold at night.

They’d reached the bus stop. He climbed up onto the bench, his feet on the seat, and sat on the backrest. Phee stood, pacing the small area between the bus stop sign and the bench.

“You okay?” JC asked.

She paused. “Yeah.  Why?

“You seem a little worked up. Should I have not asked about your mom?”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Just brings up old memories and feelings and fights we had. I feel like I’ve changed a lot and they haven’t. I could go home if they’d give, just a little…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned against the pole with the bus route sign on it.

“They think they’re right and that they know what’s best. And if you’d just give a little…”

“I know you don’t really know me, but I’m not the type to grovel.”

“I guess I need to get to know you, then.”

She pushed off of the pole with her shoulder and sauntered over to the bench, stopping directly in front of him. They were eye to eye, face to face, the moonlight casting an eerie glow.

If he was a betting man, he’d have placed his entire day’s wages on the chance that she’d stand in front of him and then step close and closer still and lean into him until her lips grazed his. And that once she touched him, he’d not be able to control himself, or at least his lips and his tongue. His head would tilt to the side and his mouth would open and she would move in again and this time the kiss would be deep and strong.

If he were betting man, he’d be rich.

Her hands were on his face, her thumbs stroking his cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle for as harsh of a person she could be.  She kissed him, working her tongue into and around his mouth so deliberately slowly that it was driving him crazy. A moan rose from within her, full of so much passion that it made him shudder.  She was going for sensuous and meaningful. He wanted to grab her by the back of the head and pull her to him, up against him. Not that he didn’t like her style-- he was just impatient.

She pulled away suddenly and reached for the bag hanging in the crook of her arm.

Shit. What happened?

“I’m… I’m sorry. Don’t stop…”

Surprised, she looked up from the interior of her bag. “Sorry for what?”

He stuttered, stumbling over his words. “Well… you…we kissed. Then… you stopped.”

She laughed. “Was it that good? You’re so out of it. It’s cold and I don’t want to walk home. The bus is coming.” 

She tipped her head to the right. He realized then that he could hear it, the rumble of a bus sized engine and the hiss of the air brakes at the stop just before theirs. It was a good thing Phee paid attention.

She paid the fare for both of them and led the way to the seats she liked, at the back of the bus and to the left. She always let him sit by the window, so he slid in and she sat next to him. The bus rolled smoothly down the street, giving a soothing rock back and forth. JC yawned. It had been a long day.

Under cover of nearly closed eyelids, he watched Phee. She was smiling. She didn’t look crazy or anything, but he knew her distracted, on-the-bus face and this wasn’t it. The edge of her mouth tipped up, very slightly. She looked pleased, like whatever was going on inside her head was making her happy. This, in turn, made him happy for reasons he didn’t feel like explaining to himself.

One transfer, a twenty minute ride, and a ten minute walk later, they were back at Phee’s room. Since he got there first, he used his key and left the door open for her. She closed the door behind her, locked it and then leaned against it.

He unzipped his coat and removed it, laying it over his bag and the other things he had piled in the corner of her room. She took off her coat and tossed it in the same general vicinity, set her purse on the desk and kicked off her shoes. She never took her eyes off of him.

He knew that, because he never took his eyes off of her.

He wasn’t sure what was happening, or what she wanted. He knew one thing about Phee, though. She wasn’t afraid to go for it. And he wasn’t in the mood to turn her down if she did.

“What would happen if I kissed you again? Would you run away?”

The sexy grit in her voice sent sparks up his spine and back down again. He shuddered and laughed at the same time.  “I didn’t run away the first time.”

“Nope, you didn’t.”

She inched her way over to him, which didn’t take very long, and ran her hands up his long sleeves and over his shoulders. He didn’t dare move, except to remove his hands from his pockets and place them on her hips. Lips whispered past one another in the lightest of kisses.

Phee was the first to pull back. “Did you like what you saw last night?”

He swallowed, audibly. And nodded.

She smiled. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Like what if I didn’t act like a freak, like you were trying to attack me, or something? What if I just stood there?”

“I probably would have run away.”

Phee laughed, her belly bouncing off of his. “Probably. Let’s uh…”

She gestured toward the mattress and they took their usual seats, side by side, backs against the wall. Phee turned on the TV. Saturday Night Live was on. They watched in silence, only laughing intermittently. JC, for one, wasn’t really paying attention to the show. His legs were stretched out in front of him, hands clasped in his lap. He was waiting for the action to start.

The show droned on for a half hour until Phee sighed. “I feel dumb. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you. I haven’t kissed a guy since… now it’s all awkward.” She grabbed her bed clothes and escaped into the bathroom, closing the door hard behind her.

He was confused. Should he have made a move? It wasn’t his idea. She was the one who wanted it.

While she was gone, he changed into his sweats and t-shirt, pulled the sleeping bag and blankets back and crawled into bed. Phee came out of the bathroom and got into bed beside him.

And laid there.

JC cleared his throat. “Uhm. So, should I have made a move or something?”

“Would have been nice to not be doing all of the work,” she said, huffing like she’d got herself all worked up in the bathroom. “I just thought maybe since I made the first move that you could make one, too. We obviously want the same thing. I thought it would be okay if I showed you that I was open to it, but you know what? Fine. It’s fine.”

“How was I supposed to know that’s what you meant? You should have said something.”

“I have to tell you to come on to me?” She rolled to the side with an angry humph.

He was confused. Frustrated. But also hard—painfully so-- and had been anticipating something happening. All he had to do was smooth this over so he made a bold gesture, daring to touch her, running his hand over her hip and up her arm.  She didn’t shrug him off, so he scooted closer and leaned in, landed a kiss on her neck and worked his way up her cheek to her earlobe. He was a little out of practice, but he was sort of sure that this was how it went.

Sure enough, she responded, rolling to her back again. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to.” He leaned over her to kiss her again and moved closer, still, pressing himself against her. She chuckled. “I just wanted you to be sure this is what you wanted. I mean, that you wanted this from me.”

She didn’t answer in words. Instead she wrapped both arms around him and gently pulled. He rolled on top of her and settled between her thighs, lowering his lips to hers. She tasted like the peppermint candy she had picked up from the bowl at the sports bar. Sticky sweet.

“You taste good,” he mumbled between kisses. She giggled and lifted herself up off of the mattress. He wondered what she was doing, and figured it out when he felt her fingers under the band of his sweatpants. 

“Let’s get rid of these, okay?” And away they went, pulled down and kicked off.

They were naked from the waist down, skin slipping against warm skin. She ran a hand along his arm and gripped his wrist, pulling it down between them and slipping his hand under her t-shirt. They kissed while he roamed under the loose cotton material, over her soft belly, over her rib cage, over a breast he’d seen but not touched. A nipple stood out, begging for attention. When he flicked his thumb over it, the sounds and movements coming from the woman under him increased the urgency of the moment.

It must have done the same for Phee, because she reached between them and pointed him in the right direction. “I have to do everything, don’t I?” She sounded harsh but she was smiling. He could tell.

“You don’t have to do this.”  JC began a slow push until he was all the way inside and then pulled back. And pushed again, but faster this time. And again, faster. And harder. Over. And over. And over again.

“Oh… fuck,” was all JC could get out.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, her voice already uneven and shaky. She clung to him, moved her hips with him, dug her nails into his skin. He kind of liked that.

JC didn’t speak. It was hard enough to remember to breathe and impossible to talk while concentrating on keeping a rhythm and not coming too soon. It was a losing battle, though. It had been too long.

When he wasn’t sure he could last much longer, he sent up a flare. “I… I’m…”

“Okay,” she said between grunts, her hips slapping hard against his. “Go!”

That was all he needed to hear.