CHAPTER 11 MINA
“There’s not much to see, but let me give you a tour,” Alex says, gesturing around the apartment.
“Sounds good,” I agree.
“So, we’re obviously in the main sitting area,” he says, pointing to the couch. “Entertainment center, comfortable seating, and unparalleled wall listening access for when my neighbors get rowdy.”
I can’t help but laugh at his description. “Does that happen a lot?”
“Only during a full moon,” he concedes, then turns to look me dead in the eyes. “Don’t tell them I told you, but I think they might be werewolves.”
“Oh really?” I return his intense gaze, not blinking. “That certainly would be something.”
“I know, right?”
My curiosity is piqued, and I can’t help but tease him a little. “So, what about your neighbors makes you suspect lycanthropy?”
“Well,” he begins, “the sex is usually pretty normal. But sometimes I swear it sounds like two big dogs going at it.”
“Maybe it’s the TV?”
“Nah, it’s definitely them. And they don’t have pets. Plus, it’s just a vibe I get.”
“A vibe?”
“Yeah.”
“Ok, so your neighbors are werewolves. Noted.”
“You’re teasing me.”
I can’t help but grin. “A little. I’m a lady of science, after all.”
“You’ll see what I’m talking about eventually.”
“Oh, will I? You make it sound like I’ll be over here often enough to notice.”
He smiles down at me and pulls me into his arms. “I hope you will.” He leans down and places a gentle kiss on my forehead, tightening his grip on me slightly as he does.
I feel a tickle starting to grow between my legs, begging to be addressed. Damn sex monster. “Finish the tour, I’m sure there’s plenty left to see.”
He releases me from his embrace and grabs my hand, leading me into his kitchen. “Here we have our fine dining area, complete with stove, oven, sink, and refrigerator. It’s not well-stocked at the moment, but that can easily be remedied for future dine-in experiences.”
I glance around. It’s sparse, like the living room, featuring a small table in the corner near the window. “What else?”
He pretends to think for a moment. “What else is there in an apartment? Ah, yes!” He hurriedly leads me over to the other side of the living room, pulling aside the long blinds. “May I present, the patio!”
“Fabulous. Love what you’ve done with it,” I motion to the two plastic lawn chairs sitting next to the screened-in porch overlooking a side street. “The epitome of luxury.”
“If you like this, you’ll love what’s next,” he says, taking my hand again and pulling me towards a closed door on the other side of the room.
Is this finally it? The bedroom at last, where maybe I can get this deep craving stirring within me satisfied. He flings the door open with a flourish.
“Tada!” He declares proudly. “The linen closet!”
I choke back a confusing mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Wow, brilliant.”
He glances around the room and shrugs his shoulders. “Well, that’s the tour!”
I tip my head up to look at him and try not to sound too needy. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” He looks down at me, a smirk dancing on his lips. “I don’t think I am.” His brow furrows and he scratches his head. “I can’t think of anything I might be missing.”
“Well, is there a place to use the restroom? Because if yes, then I’d like to use it.”
“Ah, yes! That’s it,” he dramatically smacks his forehead. “How could I be so silly.” He grabs my hand again and leads me to another closed door. “There’s a half-bath here,” he says, opening the door, “But I need to put new soap in there. If you need to use one, come right through here.” To my surprise, he covers my eyes before leading me down the hall and opening another door.
“Um, why are you covering my eyes?”
“For dramatic effect, of course,” he whispers in my ear, pressing his body against mine from behind and gently nudging me forward. I hesitate, about to walk into the unknown with no way of knowing where I am going.
“Do you trust me?” he asks again, this time his voice low and soft against my neck.
I decide I do, and step forward blindly. He guides me gently from behind, his hands still over my eyes. After a few steps we stop, and he turns me to my left, uncovering my eyes. “Presenting the potty,” he quips, reaching around me and flipping on the light.
Much like the rest of the apartment, it is sparse, with minimal personal effects inside. There’s a toothbrush and toothpaste, a razor, a comb, some deodorant, and a bottle of hair pomade on the counter. In the reflection of the mirror I can see the shower behind me, with a simple black shower curtain and a towel rack with a single towel.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be just outside getting changed. Take your time.”
I watch him retreat out of the bathroom and then turn to face myself in the mirror. I didn’t actually have to pee, I was just trying to get him to show me his room, which I had conveniently missed due to him covering my eyes. If I walk out now, he’ll call my bluff. Let him think I’m actually peeing.
I flip on the sink and let it run for a minute, taking the time to fix my hair. I reach over and flush the toilet, then wash my hands for good measure, drying them on the towel hanging next to the shower. I take the opportunity to peek behind the shower curtain.
There’s a single bottle of men’s body wash, and a bottle of combination shampoo and conditioner. A washcloth hangs from the water handle. All in all, it reflects what the rest of the apartment does: necessities only. No luxury. He obviously doesn’t spend much time here , I realize. I haven’t seen one piece of art on the walls, or anything to really imply this place is truly lived-in. It feels more like a hotel than a home.
I double check my appearance in the mirror one more time before calling through the door. “Hey, is it ok if I come out now?”
“Yeah, come on out.”
I tentatively open the door, holding my breath. Here it is. I’m about to see his room. I don’t know why I’m feeling anxious about this, but I am.
There’s a queen-sized bed in the center of the wall next to the door. There’s a TV mounted on the wall across from the bed, and a small dresser below it. All of this takes about 3 seconds to notice before my gaze is drawn to Alex. He’s wearing jeans and is buttoning up a soft-looking aqua shirt with the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows. He pauses his buttoning when he catches me staring.
“I’ll be ready in a minute, let me just finish with these buttons and I’ll grab my shoes and we can head out.
That little tickle between my legs is a fire now, begging to be doused. I step out of the bathroom toward him.
“Feel like ordering in instead?”
He hesitates for a moment, then smiles at me. “Normally I’d say yes. But this is our first real date, so I’d like to take you somewhere nice.”
I try to hide my disappointment. “That makes sense.”
“But if you want, we can come back here after, maybe watch a movie or something? If you’re not too tired, that is.”
My mood is immediately restored. “That sounds great.”
“Perfect. I know a great little Thai place right up the road, good atmosphere, excellent Pad Thai and Moo Satay, if you’re into that.”
My stomach grumbles and I realize that I’m quite hungry. “That sounds delicious. I’m in.”
Dinner was, as promised, absolutely divine. The food arrived quickly, and the restaurant was relatively quiet, allowing for conversation to flow. During our meal I learned that Alex had no immediate family, and he was raised here in the city in the foster care system. Since he aged out, he’s been working odd jobs to make ends meet, and has been at the hospital for about six months. Prior to the hospital, he worked for a few years with the Waste Management Company and views the janitorial job as a major upgrade.
I shared a little about my life as well, mainly about my strict upbringing and the way my parents continue to try and micromanage my life. It became clear to me very quickly that we come from two very different worlds, but it didn’t seem to matter to either of us.
The conversation never slowed or grew stale, and by the time the check came, we were in tears from laughing so hard. I was pleased to discover that we have a similar sense of humor, and many of the same interests. Despite our differences, a tiny voice whispered in the back of my mind that this could actually work out and be more than a fling. God, I hope so.
As the waiter places the check on the table, I reach into my clutch for my wallet.
“No, this one’s on me,” Alex says. “It’s our first date, and I’m going to do it right.”
“Wow, you sound so old-fashioned,” I quip.
“You can get the next one, if you want,” he says. “No pressure though.”
“Alright, it’s a deal,” I agree.
He pays and as we stand up to leave, he offers me his arm, which I gladly take. We stroll back to his car in comfortable silence, enjoying the mild Fall weather.
He opens my car door for me and as I sink into my seat, he asks, “You still up for a movie back at my place?”
Just like that, the fire in my pants is back. “Yes, that sounds nice.”
“Awesome. I’ll even let you pick it.”
“What a gentleman!”
He laughs and closes my door, making his way around to the driver’s side. He sits down and immediately reaches for my hand, weaving his fingers with mine almost absentmindedly. It’s a comfortable, safe feeling.
The drive back is quick, and we’re soon at his door. He pauses, his key in the lock. “Well, I suppose this is the part where normally I’d kiss you goodnight at the end of a first date.”
“I think you’re right,” I agree, leaning forward and tilting my chin up.
He lowers his head to meet mine, our lips pressing together chastely at first, the kiss quickly deepening as he pulls me closer to him. I can feel myself falling head over heels down the rabbit hole of lust, but just as quickly as the kiss began, it’s over.
He breaks away and turns to unlock the door. “Alright, what kind of movie are you in the mood for?”
I haven’t moved, my brain still processing the fact that we aren’t kissing anymore.
“Mina? You coming?”
I snap back to reality. “What? Oh, sorry, yeah!” I step inside and he closes the door behind me. “What sort of movies do you have?”
“Well, I’ve got all the streaming services, plus a pretty hefty DVD collection to choose from.”
“Ooh, let me see those!”
We head into the living room, and he opens the entertainment center, which seems bigger on the inside, if such a thing is possible. There are hundreds of DVDs there, meticulously arranged alphabetically within genre. I skim the titles, my eyes landing on one of my childhood favorites.
“Oh my god, you have The Princess Bride!”
“Of course I do!” He pulls it out, holding it up proudly. “One of the best. Guess that’s what we’re watching!”