I am once again fidgeting outside Joe's door. My palms keep clamming up and by the time I reach her storey, it's surprising my trousers aren't soaking through with the number of times I wipe my hands on them. Thankfully, Joe don't make me wait for long; I've barely retracted my hand from the bell before her door opens.
Except it's not Joe who greets me, but a woman at least a head taller and draped in shawls. She looks me over, takes in my layered jewellery and the Nicolas fortiflora embroidered shirt I decided to wear as some sort of good luck charm, and hums appreciatively.
'Even better in person,' she says, gravely voice familiar from the phone. 'I'm Jazmine.'
'Right.' During all Joe's stories about Jazmine, I never imagined the sister who more or less saved her from Tamsin several times to be... this. Shayna, but taller and younger and more mystical. I might've exclusively imagined her in some sort of Kill Bill attire but she reminds me more of the theatre teacher from High School Musical. 'Nice to meet you.'
Rather than shake my hand as I intended, Jaz turns it over to inspect my palm. She runs her thumbs along the lines, a curious purr at the back of her throat as she reaches a cut in one of them. Each movement is announced with the clatter of bangles. Her russet eyes climb up to mine, identical to Joe's if not a little more sultry.
Then she drops my hand along with the mysterious act. 'Very soft.'
'I moisturise.'
'Good. So how is your relationship to your masculinity?'
'I said don't be weird.' Jaz is yanked into the apartment and replaced by Joe who immediately shuts the door, effectively caging herself between it and my body. 'I'm so sorry about her. Anyway, hi.'
My response is forgotten as a wisp of breath as I look down at her. Not that I've ever not been floored by the sight of her, but I'm allowed to look now and I am not letting the opportunity pass me by. She's wearing a tie patterned like a painting that I know I've seen but can't name. Something by Monet maybe. It hangs loose in the collar of her shirt; more of a necklace. Her hair is braided into narrow cornrows. And she's holding a rectangular gift wrapped in green paper with magenta hearts on it resembling the colours of a Calathea roseopicta.
'Hiya,' I finally respond. 'You're stunning.'
'I thought you would like it.' She finally lets go of the door handle to trace the seashells on my choker that match the ones in my hair. 'You're very beautiful.'
'Oh...' My insides melt, spine refusing to say upright. 'Thank you.'
I dip to kiss her but Joe pushes me off. 'No kissing on the first date. Besides, we'll be late.'
She don't give me the chance to argue, grabbing my hand to pull me down the corridor before I get the chance to process.
'Where are we going?'
'It's a surprise.'
I huff though a smirk tugging at my mouth as we exit the building. 'Did you show her pictures of me?'
'No.' Joe glances at me, frustration meeting my smugness. 'Maybe a few. Or maybe all of them and also we went through your entire Instagram.'
I open the driver's door, then drop the keys into Joe's waiting palm. She slides into the seat and I round the car for the passenger side, instinctively go to sit only to fall right on the paving stones when the chair's backrest gets in the way. Last person to sit in it were Caleb with Eilidh in the back so of course it's moved as close to the front as possible.
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NIKKI & JOE, CASUALLY | updates every monday
RomanceNicolás Velez is done with casual sex. Listen, yes, he might've fucked everyone in his flat within the first week of living in halls and had a respectable run on Grindr, but what eighteen-year-old wouldn't? He's almost twenty-four now, though, and...