The Divorcee Murder Club

Veintiseis ~26

               The party winded down thirty minutes ago, and now it’s just Mindy and me as I help her clean up. It’s the least I can do after arriving late splattered in someone’s blood. The incident earlier feels so far away as I tighten the strings on a trash bag, ready to burst. I glance over at her, and she’s peacefully wiping down the countertops with a sponge, oblivious to the danger that just fell into her lap. 

But how did it land there?

Did the Sisters approach her in person? Was she summoned to their home? Or did they send their watchdog Kay after her?

The latter option causes my spine to ripple with a quiver. 

I don’t want that giant oaf anywhere near her, and I’ll climb up that damn tree trunk he calls a torso to choke him out MMA-style if I have to. 

But that can wait for another day.

Right now, it’s just Mindy and me in the apartment since Neal, Chloe, and Evan decided to head over to Park Chow for some ginger cake with pumpkin ice cream. I’m also having a bit of a sweet tooth, except it’s not for cake.

Well, not cake, cake. But definitely Mindy’s cake. 

So I set the trash bag by the front door and saunter over to her. She’s still wiping down the kitchen when her eyes catch me, and a smile spreads like ink in water across her face. It’s cute that she tries hiding it by turning away to dry her hands. However, it's even better for me because I slide my arms around her and press against her backside.

“I think this place is spotless enough.” I kiss her shoulder.

“What are we doing?” she whispers.

“Cuddling.”

“No, I mean, what is this between us?”
She eyes me over her shoulder. I'm about to say something naughty when she rotates and covers my mouth with her soft hand, which smells lemony from the dish soap. “Don’t you dare say something perverted!”

“You know me too well,” I say, the words muffled behind her palm, so she retracts it but averts her eyes to fuss with the hem of my borrowed shirt.

“So… what is this? Because I feel like we leveled up today. Or am I wrong?”

“Not wrong.”

“So, what are we?” She dares a glance at me through her long lashes.

“I think we’re complicated, and we have a lot of shit we’re still working out, but I think we could be amazing together.”

“So what you’re saying is, we can’t be together now, but later.”

“Do you want us to be together?”

“Yes.” She nods but glances down at our hands as I thread mine through hers. “Except, I know we both have baggage, and I worry it’ll ruin things if we rush.”

“Ok, so we’re not changing our Facebook status then. Nor are we becoming Instagram official.” I grin.

“No, we’re not, but…” She toys with my fingers, and I don’t know if she’s purposely stroking them in a sexually suggestive way or if I'm just super horny. 

“But?”

“I…” she swallows. “Would you…” she swallows again, but this time looks me in the eyes, and my balls tighten. “I was talking with Chloe, and she made some great points, and I value her advice, so I don’t see why we couldn’t just be friends who occasionally have sex?”

“In my experience, that always complicates things," I say.

"We're already complicated."

"True, but are you sure you want to complicate it even more?” I ask.