Her Melting Point

The Answer

"I honestly don't know what to do. But please, don't be angry with me," Jackie said pleadingly.

"I'm not," he said curtly. "Not with you. It's my problem."

"Could we–" Jackie stretched her hand to him again, but halted, not sure if her touch was welcome. "Could we please talk? If it's OK with you. But I just– You're right." She nodded morosely. "I'm not good at conflict. If it's not work. I'm brilliant at work conflict resolution," she couldn't help but to amend.

"You are. It's super sexy."

She whipped her face up and gawked at him.

"Wha-at?"

He gave her his signature blank look. He'd been correct, of course: she was an insecure muppet, desperate for validation and praise. For example, she would properly like him to elaborate on his previous statement.

"What's that?" she pressed on, peering into his face.

"You're hot when you're at work," he admitted grudgingly. Jackie pressed her lips to stop herself from grinning. "Ethan said you aced the football grant meeting," he continued. "Rhys Holyoake eats out of your hand. I saw your official photo on the school Instagram. I got hard."

"What?!"

He side-glanced at her. "That was a joke."

"Oh, I see." Jackie tried to keep disappointment out of her voice - and then she asked herself whether one night with Alexander Fergusson had turned her into a nymphomaniac.

"We can talk," he said and nodded towards the table. "How's your hand?"

"It doesn't even hurt," she lied. "Is the porridge ready? You probably need to eat. You mentioned last time that being hungry makes it harder for you."

He studied her face for a few seconds.

"What?" Jackie asked, blushing now.

"Why don't you want to date me?" he deadpanned.

She had almost started reassuring and squawking that, of course, she wanted it - and then she paused.

"You aren't talking about the emotional part of it, innit?" she carefully clarified.

"I don't understand your question," he grumbled.

"Right, yeah." Jackie came up to the table and sat down heavily. "When you ask me about dating, you mean– Like, dates and– sex, right? I'm sorry, I know it's ridiculous to ask you to define it and to give it a label at this stage!" she exclaimed. "We've only slept together once, and– I'm sorry!"

He leaned his back against the counter, his face aloof, his eyes on the opposite wall.

"I'm doing it again, innit?" Jackie gave out a nervous laugh. "Apologising and not giving you time to respond. Alright, let me try again." She intertwined her fingers and took a grounding breath. "I loved it last night. I've never felt so good before."

That got his full attention. The man truly switched in a blink of an eye, didn't he? Jackie squirmed on her chair under an intense gaze of his darkened eyes.

"And it wasn't because– because you were upset," she mumbled. "I do have trouble saying 'no' to men, but it's just because I don't ever have to. Maybe, I do get swept over, but I did want– you. I wanted you."

That did it.

"Oh dear," Jackie gasped when he picked her up under her arms and plopped her backside on the table.

"Tell me to stop, if you still want to talk," he snarled and bit her other shoulder.

"I don't think–" Jackie whined and pushed her hands into his thick glossy curls. "I don't think I do."