IX

They were sitting at the back of the huge yellow cab, dripping wet from the rain.

It was already a quarter past midnight, still a little early for a NYC Saturday night. But K was already feeling cold. Jesse offered that they come swing by his apartment down by the Lower East Side to wash and tumble dry K's clothes and get warm. K agreed without further discussion, much to his surprise and delight.

K wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned onto the leather seat of the cab, shivering with the cold.

Jesse looked at her and noticed her raised pores. "Come here," he grabbed K and wrapped his arms around her, trying to radiate his warmth to hers.

"You're so fucking sweet," she whispered against Jesse's lips. "I want to kiss you here, right now." There was a genuine physical urgency in her soft voice that made all of the hair on Jesse's skin stand on its ends.

He has been craving for K's lips, too. But he was trying so hard to get a hold of himself, the fact that they were still sitting at the back of a taxi. He didn't want an unwanted pair of eyes looking at them as they made out.

Jesse was actually cautiously peeking at the rearview mirror, checking to see if the driver was stealing pervy glances at K's chest, which was now ridiculously see-through, well... almost. Had she entered a wet t-shirt contest, she would have bagged the gold. 

He had noticed it, so he could only imagine that the cab driver probably noticed it, too. It was hard not to. K's white little crop top clung so tight on her skin, and she wasn't wearing a bra either - a fact that he had known earlier that night.

The cab finally stopped at an old brick loft-style apartment. The rain had stopped pouring, thankfully.

Jesse handed the fare to the cab driver, then reached to open the door to K's side. She got out first, and Jesse followed.

They climbed up to his unit by the steep flight of metal fire escape ladders, instead of entering from the main door downstairs. Jesse was avoiding to get another chastising from Mrs. Petrushka, the finicky and over-sensitive Ukrainian old lady from the first unit, who constantly castigated him whenever he came home late - complaining that his footsteps were too heavy and noisy, even if it wasn't.

Jesse stopped by the 5th floor, already reaching for the keys to his window. He slid it up carefully, perched his leg in and squeezed himself to get through the window to his bedroom.

K laughed at Jesse, he looked like a tall, silly kid trying to sneak in from his parents.

Jesse ignored her poking fun at him, and reached out his hand to help her get inside. "Careful, you might slip," he warned K, her dress was still dripping wet with rainwater.

His bedroom floor was just polished concrete. He didn't bother to put fancy marble or granite tiles. His loft-style apartment was really bare, having no walls and divisions in between his bedroom, living room, small dining area and kitchen. The only wall present was for the bathroom and laundry area. He didn't care much for aesthetic and design. He was all for purpose, so as to not complicate things. All that mattered to him was his sturdy and comfortable bed, his vintage Victrola record player and his late mom's wonderful collection of vinyl records.

Jesse ran to the side of the main door and turned on the dim light switch to his bedroom and kitchen.

K got in from the window easily, already kicking off her boots and socks and went on to shrug off her denim jacket that was still tied on her waist. It felt so heavy with all the rainwater that it absorbed. Her black, full-length skirt felt like it weighed a ton as well, that she didn't hesitate to strip it off from her. She felt like soaked up sponge. Luckily, she had her mini leather satchel bag. Her phone and Jesse's was in it, their wallets too. She let it all drop to the floor and picked them up in a disheveled heap.

"Whoa, hey," Jesse was so taken aback seeing K stripped down to her underwear, that he had to look sideways again. He just finished locking up the windows, and was floored to see that K was now just wearing her wet little shirt and cute black panties. Yes, he might be a little too horny but he's definitely not a pervert. 

His whole body stiffened, including his groin - a reaction that he totally did not expect. He had seen plenty of naked women, on the internet, in magazines, in real life - none of them made him feel what he was now feeling. K wasn't even completely naked yet. And though he could see her complete shape and form underneath the remaining clothes that was left of her, seeing her that bare somehow felt... different. He started to feel that it was actually him that was vulnerable.

"Put this in the dryer for me, please," K said, handing over her skirt and jacket to him, then threw her bag onto Jesse's spacious bed. She went on to turn her back on Jesse, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her arms and head. "And this one, too." K looked over her shoulder and handed over her white crop top to Jesse. She was completely naked from the waist up.

Holy shit.

Jesse took a sharp breath and quickly turned to walk to his compact laundry area beside the kitchen. He stripped down to his boxers and placed all of his and K's clothes into the washing machine to wash up clean and dry.

"There are fresh towels in my closet, top left shelf," he hollered from the kitchen, suggesting for K to dry and cover herself up. He stood in front of the fridge, grabbing bottles of beer. He stopped for a moment as he gently closed it, leaning his forehead onto the cold, steel door of the fridge, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

He has been dreaming for weeks of seeing K naked, of fucking her dry into oblivion... yet as he saw her seconds ago, standing there dripping wet and almost completely naked, he couldn't bring to lunge himself at her.

"You okay?" K asked, startling him. She was wearing Jesse's oversized black Nirvana shirt, the one with the stoned smiley face.

Jesse nodded, his heart beating wildly against his chest as K walked towards him. 

She grabbed a bottle from his hand and twisted the cap off. She clinked her bottle against Jesse's and drank almost half of it in one go. 

Jesse did the same, trying to calm his nerves.

"Thank you for tonight," she mumbled, their bodies were so close that he could feel feel her breath brushing on his bare chest as she exhaled. "I loved that we crashed that awesome concert, even if we really didn't crash it. You just asked your daddy's connection to let us in." She snickered.

"Yeah, that's how I roll," he laughed, too. Allowing K's slick ridicule towards him. "Listen, K. I just..." He paused, thinking twice with what he was about to say. "I - I wanted to go out with you again. That's if... if we're still playing this game." 

"Oh, it is still on." She guaranteed, finishing off her beer and making her way back to Jesse's bedroom. She stopped by the black leather couch, just across his bed. There was a Winston Porter record shelf beside it, where Jesse's vinyl tracks were neatly stacked. She pulled out the sleeves, checking out the titles one by one.

Jesse followed her into the converted living room space, watching K with wonder as she browsed through his mother's vinyls. She was smiling the entire time, she seemed so engrossed. K pulled out a track and held it up, looking at Jesse as if asking for his permission to play the track on the phonograph. "Can I?"

"Yeah, sure," he walked towards her, then turned to his record player.

K handed over the track to Jesse and stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso as he carefully removed the vinyl from its sleeve. She pressed her lips on the back of his shoulder, sending shivers through Jesse's arms and back. She giddily watched him as he carefully placed the vinyl onto the Victrola, peeking over his shoulder.

   

Jesse lowered down the needle onto the plateau, and the track started to play A Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harum.

"Do you know the meaning behind the song?" K asked him softly, her breath softly brushing the base of his nape as she spoke. 

Jesse glanced sideways, his face lighting up. "Yes," he smiled and nodded. "Some say that it talks about a drunken seduction, which is described through references to sex as a form of travel, usually nautical, using mythical and literary journeys." He paused, wanting to expound further on his own cognizance of the song. "But for me, it's like a metaphorical form of a nonconforming male-female relationship, which after some negotiation... they just end up having sex. The, uh, lyrics kinda depicted a highly sexual relationship." He guessed that K have chosen to play the track because in a way, it was them, the song told their game - or at least once they have had sex already. 

"Hmm, no," K disagreed, her lips twitched into an amused smile. "For me it means something else, and it's entirely different."

Jesse turned around to face K, his brows raised at her as if waiting for her to give her own interpretation and understanding of the song.

"Yes, I agree that the lyrics talks about sex," she looked down on Jesse's clavicle and started tracing his shoulder blade with her index finger. "But it also tells a straightforward, girl-leaves-boy story."

He gazed at K, wondering what she meant by it. This was her leaving him mind games and puzzles again.

She looked up at Jesse, her eyes seemingly speaking directly to his soul. "This is a fluke, you know?" She mumbled. "Us - you and me both."

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

"Well, I - I was really planning on not seeing you again after that night we met at The Castello. I never intended to call you back." She revealed, looking at the blank space above Jesse's shoulder. "Yet, we saw each other again at the café by the corner street. I thought about you, and then my phone shuffle played this song before you showed up on me again. I - I don't know, it's like... a billion-to-one cosmic fluke."

"I don't think so," he differed, but was also a bit muddled and unnerved by her revelation. She never planned on calling him back, even after getting his number at the subway. "It's a small world, K. There's a cha-"

"Jesse, there's 8.3 million people living in New York," she cut him in. "Chances we see each other again are way too thin."

"Alright, then," he acquiesced, shrugging his shoulders. "We're a fluke. What about it?" 

K opened her mouth as if she was about to say something. She thought for a second and then abruptly closed it, clearly changing her mind. "Nothing." She stated, and then looked up again at Jesse. "Wanna know a secret?" She asked softly. Her eyes looked so bright, shining despite the dim glow of the lights in his apartment.

"What?" He asked, wondering if it was another puzzle he had to decipher.

She tiptoed to whisper on Jesse's ear. "I'm... fully naked underneath your shirt." She bit her lip and bore her eyes into his again. This time, she leaned her face towards his, so close that they could almost kiss. She encircled her arms around his nape and closed her eyes, taking a sharp and deep breath. "I want you. Let's cut to the chase, Jesse Akerman."