Chapter Sixteen Euan
As the goth rings up my items, I peruse the things at the counter.
The front of the store is less overtly sexual, the items on display geared more toward the general public: jewelry, key chains, stickers, and dice sets.
The sets come in different pride colors and I fiddle with a box colored like the bisexual pride flag. Would Alex like them?
The goth waits to see if I’ll follow my impulses. I set the dice back down. They cater more to my interests than his and I’m not sure he’d appreciate me buying him a gift anyway. Next to the dice are a pile of brochures, advertising various shows and events.
“We hold a kink class in the dungeon once a month,” the goth says. For the first time, they sound engaged with the conversation. They nudge one of the brochures closer to me.
It’s a calendar for the year, each page for a different month. I flip past the ones that have already happened: anal, role play, watersports. Then I arrive at the one for this month: Beginner’s Bondage.
I imagine Alex sitting in a classroom, taking avid notes.
Would they tie him up as a demonstration?
He never answered which scenario he preferred, but his expression was open enough for me to guess.
When he held the cuff against his wrist, he closed his eyes and lost himself in the daydream.
Lips parted, cheeks flushed, breath short.
I wanted to open up his head, crawl inside, and watch the show.
The teal looked lovely against his pale skin, though the pink would also be nice. Red and black seem too harsh, and the green was too garish.
I glance over my shoulder. Alex still hasn’t come down yet—or if he has, he’s purposefully avoiding me. Maybe I can sneak down to the dungeon … But that would take too much time. I don’t want him to think I’m loitering to spy on what he’s buying.
I look back at the brochure to check the date. It’s for next Sunday. My flight is on Saturday, which means I’ll already have left by then. Unless I stay longer to deal with the annulment. “Do you have to register ahead of time?”
“Yeah, the website is on the brochure. Sign-ups are open until one hour before the start time.”
“Thanks.” I pay for my items and slip the brochure into my bag, then take everything to the car.
Five minutes later, Alex joins me, clutching a large green bag to his chest. It’s folded over itself so I can’t peek inside. He hurriedly stuffs it into the backseat, like he’s afraid of it opening in the middle of the drive.
It’s a little discouraging that he’s not comfortable enough to share what he purchased. I thought we’d started to build a rapport, that some of the things he said inside had been flirtatious hints. Then again, he could just want it to be a surprise.
Actually, he has the right idea, hiding his bag in the back. If he left it out in the open, I’d be distracted the whole drive home, waiting for a single glimpse inside.
“Did you see the brochures on the counter?” I ask.
“You mean for events?”
“Yeah, and the kink classes.”
A pretty pink blush colors his cheeks. “No, I didn’t.”
I wonder what the cashier saw in me that they thought I’d be more interested than Alex. “It sounds like they host a lot of things for beginners if you’re interested. You could explore some new avenues and learn more about what you like outside of the vanilla world.”
“They do sound interesting … as long as I’m not the only novice.”
We drive for a while in silence and then he asks, so quietly it almost gets lost in the sounds of traffic, “Do you want to go to one together?”
It’s not quite an invitation, but his interest is encouraging. I only hesitate to answer because I don’t want to reject him, even though it’s out of my control. “I’m returning home before the next class.”
“Oh.” He leans his head against the window and doesn’t say anything else.
I know I should leave it. That I shouldn’t give myself hope of something more when our marriage—our relationship—has an expiration date. But the longer the silence stretches, the more the pressure builds inside me, until I blurt out, “Maybe we can go together the next time I visit you.”
“Next time?” he asks, and god, he almost sounds hopeful. Excited.
“Well, I’m sure there will be court dates and other things.
Annulments are tricky, you know. Richard said it could take up to a year and a half, and I’m sure there are things I’ll need to do in person during that time.
So, if everything lines up, the next time I’m in town, we could go to one of those classes together. ”
His gaze is so heavy on me that I glance away from the road.
His pink lips are parted and the pupils of his eyes are blown wide until they almost engulf the blue.
After a second, he looks away first, peering out the window.
“It’d be nice not to go alone. Though if I’m honest, I just probably wouldn’t go. ”
I didn’t look far enough ahead in the brochure to know what the future classes are. They might not even be anything either of us are interested in. The bondage one would be perfect, but I can’t return that soon. Or I could extend my stay.
I clench the steering wheel, trying to steer my mind back onto traffic. It’s a long drive back to Alex’s place and this time we’re both quiet, lost in our thoughts.
I park my car in the open spot next to Alex’s.
“I’m on the third floor,” he says. “And there isn’t an elevator. Do you need help with your luggage?”
“I’ve got it.” All I have is one suitcase, a backpack, and my laptop. Alex fidgets restlessly, eyeing the bags, and I change my mind. “Actually, it’s a little cumbersome to carry the backpack and the laptop together.”
He instantly holds out his hands, and I offer him the backpack. When I let go and he receives the whole weight of it, he grunts in surprise. “How much did you stuff in here?”
“I pack efficiently,” I reply dryly, then close the trunk.
He slips his arms into the backpack’s straps, then grabs both of our bags from the shop.
The logo is innocuous enough that unless someone is already familiar with the store, they won’t know what’s inside, but Alex still folds them over and clutches them to his chest to hide all evidence of how he spent his afternoon.
“I have a two bedroom,” Alex explains over his shoulder as we climb the stairs, “so you can stay in the guest bedroom. Well, slash office. Slash storage space.” When we reach his door, he shifts the bags around in his arms so he can pull his keys out of his pockets. “Shit, should I give you a key?”
“I would appreciate it,” I reply as I follow him in. “You have work the rest of the week, right?”
“Yeah, I’m a typical eight-to-fiver.”
“Remote,” I reply, holding up my laptop. “I’ll probably go to a café to work during the day so you don’t have to worry about me in your space.”
Alex blinks, like he hadn’t considered what I would do while he was at work. “Oh, good point. There’s also a public library down the street—” he cuts himself off with a grimace. “Though you probably don’t want to go there if it’s where Nick works.”
“Actually, he works at a college.”
Alex stares at me for a long moment before he asks, voice faint, “He what?”
I set my luggage off to the side and begin taking off my shoes. Still looking a little lightheaded, Alex gestures to the bench next to the door, so I sit down to make the task easier. “He’s a librarian at a community college.”
“Shit.”
Startled, I glance up at him.
He rubs the back of his neck, eyes locked on the ceiling as he explains, “I also work at the college.”
My brow furrows. “I thought you were a Purchasing Manager.”
“I am. Colleges have accounting offices,” he mumbles almost defensively. “I didn’t realize you were talking about Nicholas Lynwood this whole time.”
It’s a good thing I’m already sitting down when I find out my husband is my ex-boyfriend’s coworker. I lean against the wall and look up at Alex, taking in his obvious guilt, not anticipating this connection. “Is he a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. We’re on different levels; he’s faculty, I’m admin. We mingle at college-wide meetings and that’s about it. I rarely see him.”
“Well, at least I haven’t been maligning your friend this whole time.”
Alex scowls. “He wouldn’t be my friend for long after the shit he pulled with you.”
I chuckle and take his hand, squeezing it.
I should drop it, let him go, but he doesn’t pull away or seem uncomfortable with the contact, so I hold on for a little longer.
To test his reaction, I brush my thumb over his knuckles.
He shudders slightly and we let go at the same time.
“Thank you for defending me, but if you were his friend first, you’d probably be more inclined to defend or agree with him. ”
Alex looks skeptical but before he can argue further, his stomach growls.
“Shit, we forgot to eat lunch. We should have grabbed something while we were out. I can make an early dinner while you set up.” His gaze trails reluctantly to the kitchen, as if cooking is the last thing on his mind after a long day. “Or we could order a pizza?”
“Pizza would be great.”
“Alright, I’ll show you to your room then put the order in.”
The apartment is nice though sparsely furnished. The front room is open concept—kitchen, dining room, sitting room all combined—and then a separate hallway leads to the two bedrooms and a bathroom at the back.
“This one is mine,” Alex says, knocking on the first closed door. “The other one is the guest room.”
“Slash office slash storage.”
He grins in acknowledgement and opens the door.
He certainly wasn’t kidding about the storage.
There’s a bed pressed against the corner of the far wall with storage bins piled around it.
The closet is overflowing with clothes and boxes to the point the sliding doors can’t completely close.
The other side of the room is a bit cleaner, with a desk and desktop computer.
Then there are the bookshelves. Any wall space that isn’t already taken up with other furniture is hidden behind a bookshelf. Some of the bookshelves serve their natural purpose, while others hold figurines and knickknacks, little glimpses into Alex’s interests.
“Hiding your collection away?” I ask as I examine one of the anime figures, resisting the urge to pick it up for a closer look.
Alex is quiet for a moment before explaining, “They’re kind of childish.”
“Theresa didn’t like them,” I surmise.
“She didn’t say that,” Alex hedges, then decides to be more honest. “She said she likes a ‘clean, minimalist aesthetic.’ So I moved my collection in here.”
“You should see my place,” I reply, stepping back to admire the whole collection. It’s cramped and dark, but the figures are aligned perfectly, like he spent time organizing them rather than shoving them wherever they fit.
“I’d like that.”
It sounds like he’s agreeing to visit me some day, but I try not to look too deeply into the simple statement.
Alex clears his throat. “So, pizza. What would you like?”
“What’s your favorite?” I ask as I set my things down.
He hesitates for a moment, then admits, “It’s kind of weird.”
I look him in the eye. “I like weird.”
“Butter chicken. Like the Indian dish.”
My stomach rumbles just at the thought. “Sounds great.”
Beaming, he pulls out his phone and starts ordering. “I’ll give you some time to settle in.” He backs out of the room and closes the door behind him.
When he’s gone, I return to admiring his collection. Maybe while I’m here, I can help him move it back out into the open.
Alex deserves to let every part of himself be seen.