SHE CALLS MY NAME

   I did it. I said it.

Actually, blurted it. My eyes bulged with realization, the tips of my ears reddening. I practiced so many times before coming here. Wondering if I should say it or not, worrying about if I say it, and worrying about if I don’t say it. The same way I worried about what to wear.

 My room is a mess. It usually is, now, it’s a mess I created trying to find what to wear, it is not a date, but she was specific with what she didn’t want me to wear. Then I realized, almost all I own is a hoodie, all of them colors to blend into my surroundings, and that’s why I end up matching with her, wearing a hoodie the similar shade of the one I gave to her this morning.

 I chew on my lip as I wait for her response, what would she say? She could say no, and we would go back to being server and customer. However it would be worse than that to me, after watching her for so long, coming this far has been luck, but coming just this far?

 “Looking at the table while speaking to me is rude, Stephen.”

The way she calls my name goes straight to my crotch, I am painfully erect, I have a feeling I would remain so for as long as she is here. Shaking my head to clear the thoughts of her crying my name, I focus instead on her words.

 Lifting my head a little, I see her peering down at me, a shiver runs through my spine. It is like looking into the sun, too hot, too close, might burn. Her mouth, glossed perfectly, is slightly parted, I look away quickly so she doesn’t see how badly I want to kiss them.

 “That’s better. Now, we can have a conversation.” she says stapling her hands in front of her, elbows on the table, face on stapled hands, like I imagine she does so many times at the corporate world she runs.

 I want to look away from her, yet it is difficult to look away.

“You said you want to touch my chest, since I touched yours.”

Her words are an echo of mine, it is hotter when she says it, so much hotter. There are so many things I want her to say to me, so many I want to say to her, but this is as far as we can go. We are too different for anything else. I know this, so why do I still want more.

 “Without even ordering first, I said it is my lunch break.”

“That would mean this is a date.” I murmur.

“It would mean, I am on my lunch and I won’t survive another two hours on a single macron.”

Oh. I remember now that she bee-lined out of the cafe without getting the second cup of coffee, she must have been really late for the meeting, I stared until her car disappeared out of sight.

She orders something for the two of us after asking what I wanted and I muttered whatever. I can’t hear or focus on anything, other than the fact that we are both here right now, and what we are about to discuss.

 “I don’t believe I touched your chest.” She says clapping once our order had been taken, jumping into the conversation like it were normal.

What? I know she touched me, I can’t remember it exactly, since my head had been clogged by her presence. But how do you unbutton a shirt without touching the skin? I give her this point, pausing when our food arrives, some kind of pasta that smells delicious and very expensive.

 “I would remember if I touched you, Stephen.” she says looking at me through her lashes, her slender fingers gripping her cutlary.

I don’t understand how she says this, if there’s another meaning to what she is saying, if she means she would know if she touched me because she could never touch someone like me with a foot long pole.

 Arguing about it would be embarrassing, so I decide to eat, the food is good, usually I would finish the whole thing, but I take my time, knowing this was the only chance I had. However, I don’t like to kid myself, she and I would never have any chance, not in a million years.

 At first glance, Regina Vega is exactly who she looks like, confident, elegant, intelligent, everything I am not, she is extremely attractive, but you would have to be blind or not into girls to not see it, the guys she brings home are vastly different from me, so I guess she wouldn’t touch me with a foot long pole.

 “Now that I have food inside of me, I can remember clearly, I did touch you, well graze your skin, I didn’t grope you or anything like that.” she says leveling me with one of her confident gazes. Her eyes unreadable.

 People have always been unreadable to me, maybe because of my glasses, but I need to hear it because I can never figure it out, and people love to be read, so I steer clear of them. Regina, no matter how hot, is a still a person. Which means we would never, ever mix well.

 “I am saying you can touch me too, even it out.” She wipes the corners of her mouth, done eating.

“No, you don’t have to…” I shake my head.

“I have to, a business woman knows how to give and take.”

Ah, business.. that’s what this is to her, just and purely business. Of course, we are worlds apart.

“Come on, I think you can sneak into the bathroom like last time.” She says nodding towards the bathroom.

The tips of my ears go red again.

“We’re making this a habit.” I murmur, but she hears because she chuckles ahead of me. The sound makes me relax. Maybe I could enjoy this business too, and it would fill the insatiable need I have for her.

She goes into the bathroom first, whispering a ‘wait here’ to me before going in, and I do, biting my lip as I do wait for her. I contemplate running away, she could keep the hoodie she has on…

 However, when she pokes her head out to say the coast is clear, I am ready with an out of order sign I saw in the supply closet. She chuckles, a knowing look in her eyes and she pulls me inside.

 “Okay, so you didn’t have any underwear on when I touched your chest, to make it fair, I should take off my bra.”

My jaw drops and I work hard to put it back in place, did she say I could… oh, was she saying…? I can’t wrap my head around this. Was she really going to strip in front of me?

 “Keep the bra on.” My voice is husky, sounding foreign to my ears, slipping past my lips before I can stop myself.

She bites her lip, her hand already at the helm of the hoodie.

“Yeah?” Her voice breathless as she asks. It does something to me, the sound of it, I imagine that’s how she sounds in bed.

I nod once and the hoodie goes over her head, once again, I am staring at her breasts, nipples almost poking through the bra.

 “If you stare longer, I would have to stare at your chest too.” she says in that breathless voice that makes me want to hear what else she can say in that voice.

Swallowing hard, I force myself to do what I am supposed to do, my hand shakes when I raise it up. I am holding my breath, knowing this is special to me, knowing I may never get this chance again.

 Once our skin makes contact, I bite my lip, suppressing a moan. This feels good, amazing. I can’t believe this is happening.

 “I moved my hands, Stephen.” She says, her voice is a whisper, a breathy whisper.

My hands move, from the center of her chest, where the buttons would have been if she wore a shirt, and I slide them down. Watching the rise and fall of her skin as she breathes.

 “And now, we are even.” I manage to say when my hand drops to my side, like I am not hard for her, like I don’t want to hold her against the sink.

She had brought the blouse I personally cleaned, into the bathroom, so I snatch the hoodie and leave, without turning back. If I had stayed there a minute longer, holding back would have been impossible.

 We are world apart, we can never mix. Never.