one I could have easily ignored as if it had never happened. But the quietness of it moved me.
“I wanted to talk to you about the bike,” I said.
“Is something wrong with it?”
“No, it’s great. It’s awesome actually. It’s just…”
He smiled and looked away. “You don’t like me.”
“Oh no, I like you. That’s the thing.”
“You don’t like getting gifts from people you like? You’re an odd woman.”
“You’re making this difficult.”
He smiled.
“I don’t think I’m the one making this difficult.” Without looking up at me, he whispered, “‘I try to go on with my day, doing what is required of me, but I find myself here again and again, wondering where you are.’”
My eyes closed and everything in me seemed aware of everything in him. My hand came up and fingered the end of one of his curls. And as if that was what he was waiting for, he pressed his lips along my collarbone. The wet heat of his mouth permeated the cloth. Around me I could hear the daily business of the Dragonfly while back in my dark corner, Rajhit knelt in front of me and spread his hands over my hips while he kissed the top of my belly through Hanes cotton. His hands slid under my shirt, his fingers spreading over the small of my back, pulling me tighter against his mouth. I sank my hands into his downy curls and held on. Then I felt his fingers on the front of my jeans. He unsnapped them and peeled open the zipper. The first time I felt his lips and his tongue against my skin, it was right below my belly button.
Then he was standing, leaning against me, his arms shielding me. Someone else was here. I heard the shoes squeaking and, around his shoulder, I spotted Gloria’s porthole glasses scanning the titles as if we weren’t there, like one of those dinosaurs who could see you only if you moved. She slipped several books into her bag without giving them much of a glance and rounded the corner.
We were back as we were before, our faces side by side, our lips next to each other’s ears.
“I want to see more of you,” he said.
“I think you’ve just seen plenty of me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I like it when you find me.”
When he kissed me, he tasted like green tea and cinnamon.
“Okay, I will find you,” he said, pulling away.
After he was gone, I dropped to the Kik-Step behind me and took a deep breath. The air still held the scent of him. There was no way something that felt this good was going to end well.
From somewhere in the store I got a whiff of Vietnamese takeout, and I remembered walking with Bryan to the little Pho Hoa around the corner and how he held my hand like it was a bag of groceries and how we spent the meal looking at our phone screens instead of each other. Whatever this was with Rajhit, it was better than that.
I stared at the shelves in front of me, the section I’d worked so hard on. Here was order, control. This was the one place in my life where things made sense. But as I looked at the perfectly ordered rows, the last names of authors jumped around the alphabet. Vampire cowboys were sharing shelf space with Mr. Darcy types and bare-chested pirates. Everything was out of order. I didn’t understand. It had been fine the day before. Dismayed, I leaned back on the shelves behind me, looking at the section as a whole, and realized that all of my hard work had been reassembled. The book spines were now organized by color.
“Jason!”
From the front of the store came a trollish laugh.
* * *
I sat in the dark, curled up in the papasan chair by the open back window, listening to the party next door. The notepad I’d been doodling on for the last hour was resting on my lap. I’d been trying to figure out how much longer I could survive on my minimal income. Hugo had lowered my rent by a couple hundred dollars, bless him. So now I had $400 after rent for food, utilities, phone, and anything else that came along. Movies were out. So were lunches for the
“I wanted to talk to you about the bike,” I said.
“Is something wrong with it?”
“No, it’s great. It’s awesome actually. It’s just…”
He smiled and looked away. “You don’t like me.”
“Oh no, I like you. That’s the thing.”
“You don’t like getting gifts from people you like? You’re an odd woman.”
“You’re making this difficult.”
He smiled.
“I don’t think I’m the one making this difficult.” Without looking up at me, he whispered, “‘I try to go on with my day, doing what is required of me, but I find myself here again and again, wondering where you are.’”
My eyes closed and everything in me seemed aware of everything in him. My hand came up and fingered the end of one of his curls. And as if that was what he was waiting for, he pressed his lips along my collarbone. The wet heat of his mouth permeated the cloth. Around me I could hear the daily business of the Dragonfly while back in my dark corner, Rajhit knelt in front of me and spread his hands over my hips while he kissed the top of my belly through Hanes cotton. His hands slid under my shirt, his fingers spreading over the small of my back, pulling me tighter against his mouth. I sank my hands into his downy curls and held on. Then I felt his fingers on the front of my jeans. He unsnapped them and peeled open the zipper. The first time I felt his lips and his tongue against my skin, it was right below my belly button.
Then he was standing, leaning against me, his arms shielding me. Someone else was here. I heard the shoes squeaking and, around his shoulder, I spotted Gloria’s porthole glasses scanning the titles as if we weren’t there, like one of those dinosaurs who could see you only if you moved. She slipped several books into her bag without giving them much of a glance and rounded the corner.
We were back as we were before, our faces side by side, our lips next to each other’s ears.
“I want to see more of you,” he said.
“I think you’ve just seen plenty of me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I like it when you find me.”
When he kissed me, he tasted like green tea and cinnamon.
“Okay, I will find you,” he said, pulling away.
After he was gone, I dropped to the Kik-Step behind me and took a deep breath. The air still held the scent of him. There was no way something that felt this good was going to end well.
From somewhere in the store I got a whiff of Vietnamese takeout, and I remembered walking with Bryan to the little Pho Hoa around the corner and how he held my hand like it was a bag of groceries and how we spent the meal looking at our phone screens instead of each other. Whatever this was with Rajhit, it was better than that.
I stared at the shelves in front of me, the section I’d worked so hard on. Here was order, control. This was the one place in my life where things made sense. But as I looked at the perfectly ordered rows, the last names of authors jumped around the alphabet. Vampire cowboys were sharing shelf space with Mr. Darcy types and bare-chested pirates. Everything was out of order. I didn’t understand. It had been fine the day before. Dismayed, I leaned back on the shelves behind me, looking at the section as a whole, and realized that all of my hard work had been reassembled. The book spines were now organized by color.
“Jason!”
From the front of the store came a trollish laugh.
* * *
I sat in the dark, curled up in the papasan chair by the open back window, listening to the party next door. The notepad I’d been doodling on for the last hour was resting on my lap. I’d been trying to figure out how much longer I could survive on my minimal income. Hugo had lowered my rent by a couple hundred dollars, bless him. So now I had $400 after rent for food, utilities, phone, and anything else that came along. Movies were out. So were lunches for the
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