We’d gone out to dinner. It wasn’t the first time for me to invite him back to my place, but for some reason it felt different. I guess we’d both had the perfect number of beers, and the perfect amount of flirty conversation. There was a sexual tension in the air that made us both walk just a little bit faster as we rounded the corner to my apartment. We’d done this before, but this time there was no gentle touching in the elevator. In fact, we stand in separate corners, looking at each other and smiling sheepishly in those slow 15 seconds to my floor.
In the entrance to my apartment, I feel a little more relaxed. Switching the corridor light on, I slip my shoes off quickly. He starts to fumble with his shoelaces as I dart into the apartment, quickly picking up some stray dishes and dropping them in the sink.
“Sorry it’s a little messy in here, I had a busy week at work so I – “
“Don’t worry about it! Uh, can I use your bathroom?”
He’s hopping on one foot now, trying to get his remaining shoe off.
“Sure, it’s just through there. Take your time, I need to tidy up.”
As the bathroom door clicks behind him, I gather clothes from the floor near my bed and hurriedly shove them into the laundry basket. I throw the pillows into place on the bed and hear the tap run as I billow the sheets out over the mattress. Then, his voice behind me,
“I did say don’t worry about it.”