Her Melting Point

Howdy, Jackie

The next day was Sunday; and Alexander had some business in Abernathy.

"I need to stop by my flat before it, to change," he said, squatting in front of his bag, folding his running clothes, and putting them away.

Jackie took a sip of her tea. She was bundled up in a couple of throws and blankets, and surrounded by cushions. She was still feeling pretty dicky; but he'd given her another of his massages when they woke up, so her back was better than it had ever been during her 'monthly fun.'

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Should I repack my bag in the flat and come back here afterwards? Or would you like me to give you a call so you can decide later?"

This wasn't the first time when Jackie thanked the universe for how easy it was to navigate dating Alexander Fergusson: the man asked. There was none of that 'worried about being clingy' or 'moving too fast' malarkey.

Jackie decided to return the favour and simply enquired, "Do you want to come back here?"

"Yes," he answered.

"And you would tell me if you didn't, right? I won't get upset if you need a break from me," Jackie said with a small laugh. "Or if you prefer to spend time in your flat, with or without me. I'm OK with either option. You see, I keep thinking about how minimal your place is; and all my books and knick-knacks, all these colours and textures, and the general disorganisation, and my chaotic kitchen cabinets - I'm worried that it might be stressful."

He studied her calmly and then glanced around. "It's alright. It's different with you. I keep an eye on it. It's odd, but I reckon I'm comfortable."

Jackie grinned. "Brilliant! And yes, please come back, whenever you feel like it."

He nodded and rose.

"Tell me if you want time for yourself," he said. "I can't always gauge that. I won't be upset or offended either."

"So far, so good." Jackie snickered. "You're very– how do I put it? Unintrusive. You literally don't leave any traces of your presence. No dirty dishes in the sitting room, no water on the bathroom floor. Not that I'd mind either way. If you're forcing yourself to be neat, don't bother. I have very low standards for cohabitation with a male."

"Noted." He chuckled. "I'm not. I'm not purposefully 'unintrusive.' Or minimal. It's just easier."

He came up to the sofa, bent down, and kissed her cheek.

"I'll call you after the meeting. Let me know if you need me to pick up anything in the shops."

Jackie snorted. "Let me guess, for the cat, right?"

"And for you," he said - and then suddenly pulled her to him, his hot palm on the back of her head, and kissed her rather roughly.

When he let her go, Jackie was feeling dizzy and properly loved-up.

"What was that about?" she panted.

His response was a shrug and another light peck on her cheek.

***

Once he was gone and she finished her brew, she realised she had no interest in reading her book. She slid lower on the sofa and turned on the telly. Tartufo showed up from upstairs and took his usual spot, tucked against her stomach. Hours went by, dull but hardly unpleasant. She got up a couple of times, to go to the loo, to grab some food, and to make more tea.

Eventually there was no denying it anymore: she was just killing time until he was back. It's not that Jackie didn't enjoy her independence and solitude; but it seemed that she had found something better.