Could’ve been worse though.
I took up the remote, pointed it at the TV, and hit the power button.11OwainI took her to the bodega every day for three weeks and nothing happened.
Every day I thought, today was the day, today the Jackals would make their move. But at closing time I’d pick her up in my car and she’d give me a tight smile and shake her head. I’d drive her home, frustrated, pissed off, but still patient.
I was a patient man. Anyone would say that about me. I knew when to wait and I knew when to move. Sometimes, it was best to keep a low profile, like a spider creeping through the grass.
We fell into a rhythm at home. It was strange, having her around. I couldn’t get used to it at first. She was a foreign body in my atmosphere, burning me up inside. I felt her tug like gravity, and we orbited each other, moving from room to room but never staying in the same place for long. We barely spoke to each other, and when we did, it was in clipped sentences and always about domestic shit: more milk, clean dishes, laundry.
Then one night, during the start of the second week, she drifted downstairs and sat at the other end of the couch. She had on these shorts, these tiny little shorts that barely covered her ass and showed off those long, lean legs. She put her feet on the coffee table and watched TV with me—sports, or a movie, I couldn’t remember—and I kept staring at those legs. She was teasing me, tempting me, and we both knew it. But I kept my hands to myself, even if I wasn’t shy about looking.
That became a ritual. Not every night, but most nights she’d come in in this skimpy little outfit, sometimes low cut, sometimes skin tight, and we’d watch TV in silence. I’d spend the whole time picturing the filthy, delicious things I could do to her body, and she pretended like she didn’t notice me staring. It drove me wild and only made me want her even more.
She knew what she was doing. There was nothing subtle about it. She could feel the tension as much as I could, and she knew what it meant.
Even if she didn’t want to admit it, I knew my little Leigh was parading herself around the house at night to tempt me into doing something aggressive, something that crossed the line—something that felt damn good.
I kept control of myself. It wasn’t easy, but we had bigger shit to do than fuck each other senseless. I had to stay sharp like a monk in his cave meditating on the size of the universe. Except I was no monk, and I really wanted to meditate on the feeling of her slick pussy sliding down my rock hard shaft.
After the third week, I felt like I might explode. All that pent up energy from each night drove me wild, and I knew what she wanted, what she was thinking.
It was a Monday afternoon when I finally lost it.
I dropped her off that morning like usual. She smiled at me, blew me a kiss, and laughed when I caught it. She thought it was funny to fuck with me.
But around noon, a few hours later, I came back with a big black duffel bag. I parked out front and carried the bag inside slung over a shoulder.
“Hey, boss,” Sander said from behind his bullet proof coffin. “What you doin’ here?”
“Go take a break,” I said. “Close up for an hour.”
He frowned and hesitated. “Uh, you want me to leave? The girl’s still back there. You want—”
“Go get lunch for an hour, Sander.” I stared at him until he moved.
“You got it.”
I waited until he flipped the Open sign to Closed and disappeared down the block. I locked the door and headed toward the back. The sound of the TV drifted through the door and up the hall as I approached. She was watching a Friends rerun when I stepped into the room and caught her eye.
Surprise flicked across her face. Then her expression turned to confusion.
“What are you doing here?”
“Sander’s on break. We need to talk.” I dropped the bag on a table covered in dry goods. Toilet paper rolls leaned precariously to one side.
She sat up straight and muted the TV. “Okay, sure. What’s going on?”
I gestured at the bag. “We’re making some changes.”
“What kind of changes?” I heard the edge in her voice.
“This isn’t working. This whole wait and see thing, it’s not enough.”
Her eyebrow knit together. “I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It is, but plans change. I want to speed things along a little bit. Not too much, but just a nudge in the right direction.
She shifted in her seat. “Okay, right. What’s that mean then?”