I am not affected, I am not affected.
He laughed. “I’m a journalist for a photography magazine.”
“Exactly. You take pictures.” He fiddled with the edge of his glasses and I wondered why his eyes were suddenly so memorising. Had I noticed them before cock (BC) or after (AC)? With his glasses on, his eyes became bigger, flecks of gold, eyelashes magnified. He was magnified. Maybe I was looking at him through a different lens, now? A gilded magnifying glass with a rose handle where everything became instantly brighter and more intense. Stop it, Skye. Keep to arsey banter. “Go on then, get snapping.”
Will had offered to take pictures I could use as promotional shots for my dog grooming business. I was thinking business cards, website, flyers. Stacey had come up with an amazing name based solely on her mother’s Liverpudlian accent and a play on words. Vanity Fur was born. Logo designed and ready to go.
I’d barely had time to breathe since deciding to sell the café. It sold quickly, being snapped up by a couple who had no experience. Me being me, I agreed to help them out by guiding them into running a busy café in exchange for staying in the flat. It seemed like a fair deal but now that things were moving with the new business, I was wondering how it would all fit together.
And still thinking about Will’s cock.
“How’s Stace?” Will asked, bringing me back to the beach instead of my filthy thoughts.
“Goo-goo eyed.”
“I guess drooling over an escort is better than a financial analyst.”
“Just,” I replied. Stacey had just dumped her cheating financial analyst and interviewed a male escort for an article in Upfront, the women’s magazine she worked for. It was clear that he’d left an impression. All over her libido.
“Why don’t I get assignments like that?” Will said. “I could do with some excitement.”
“Are things definitely over between you and Holly?” Will had an on-and-off relationship with a woman he met on Tinder. The last I’d heard she’d called him emotionally constipated and they were officially off again. For some reason I felt happy about this development. A flutter definitely occurred in my cold heart and I spent the rest of the day wondering why I felt so conflicted and confused. Ah, there was nothing like cock to bring you some clarity. Good cock could help with comprehension and lucidity. Will’s appeared to have an extra superpower to pinpoint the obvious. I had to face it. I’d been hibernating feelings for Will long before his big D entered my life. The big D just made me admit it to myself. The word friendship had been a great place to hide behind. We’re friends. Let’s not do anything to jeopardise that. Ignore his cute glasses and ability to make me laugh until my cheeks ache. Those voices in my head had always been there, but I’d tried to drown them out. I liked him, but I also needed him. He provided stability to my life that otherwise felt like I was forever balancing on tripwire. A relationship featuring bumping body parts could ruin it, so I ignored them.
Now, I’d crossed the friendship line, cock and all, and what started as whispers, was ending in shouts.
But…I find him irritating!
In a charming way…
He was preoccupied with women who were no good for him; he wanked over Catwoman. Yes, he’s got a heart of gold and he’s been there for me when I needed him – big time. He’s changed my tyre in the rain more than once and bled my radiators on a breezy winter night but...Oh fuck, why did everything associated with our relationship sound dirty?
I needed to get laid. Not by him. Someone more on my wavelength. Tattooed and pierced in all the right places.
Stop thinking about his cock!
“Things are officially off with Holly,” he replied. “She posted some stuff I’d left at her flat.” He threw a piece of driftwood and Reggie set off after it, yanking his lead from my hand. “I was very confused when an envelope arrived containing a toothbrush and three condoms.”
“Ever the light traveler,” I muttered, trying to hide my gag reflex at the mention of the word condoms and the connection I made to Will having sex with someone who wasn’t me.
“Back on the market and I’ve lost my Tinder pal. Stace is officially off the market. She wants to concentrate on her career at the same time as sleeping with a male escort.” I laughed as he shook his head. “I liked comparing notes.” He glanced to me. “Stace had just as many weird dating experiences as I had. It made me feel less pathetic.”
“Maybe keep off Tinder a while,” I replied. “Let something happen naturally. See what life can bring.”
Me?
No. Nope. Not gonna happen.
“Oh yeah?” He sighed. “That doesn’t seem to work out either.” I watched as he followed Reggie towards the tide, Cher daintily walking alongside him.
“What about Catwoman?”
He looked back at me from over his shoulder and adjusted his glasses. It was his nervous trait. One that I realised I’d admired for years. “That was mad, wasn’t it?”
“You almost had my eye out.”
“Of course I did and you loved it.”
“Pah! I wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole,” I lied.
“I AM the barge pole!”
It was the first time we’d talked about that night. But it wasn’t the first time I’d thought about it. Daydreams would usually involve me biting his arse cheek then sucking it to calm the sting.
“Loving the look,” Will said, pointing to my chest.
“Thanks.” I smoothed down my transparent rain mac and smiled. “Practical, yet still allows you to see what’s underneath.”
“My kind of garment,” he replied.
“Not quite Catwoman.”
“Still great for…wiping things off,” he said.
“Ah, the cleanliness of rubber, so that’s your kink?”
“Ha. So. Ha. Funny,” he deadpanned before holding up his camera, focusing in on the dogs. “You know, Reggie isn’t going to stay still enough to get a good picture. Can we try to tempt him with a dog treat?” Click. “But Cher is all over this photo shoot. I’m convinced he posed with a kicked-out leg a second ago.” I pulled a tiny feather boa from my bag and draped it around Cher’s neck. Will crouched and squinted into the camera’s viewfinder revealing his laughter lines like a peacock displaying their feathers. Rah! Why did I like those lines so much? “You did not just do that.” Will laughed as I adjusted the boa. “That’s the definition of camp right here.” More snaps, more crinkles, more butterflies. I tried to control my breathing, make a plan of action in my head.
Limit the times we see each other.
Act normal.
Keep up the snark.
Encourage dating.
Reactivate his Tinder profile.
Do not picture his cock!
We all knew how that was working out for me.
“Reggie, I need more commitment from you. Give me your best grimace.” Ah, I loved watching him. Concentration and humour never looked so good. He was still crouching, and his bum wrapped in those grey jeans was more of a vision than the stunning orange sunset spilling over the waves.
Stop flaunting your best asset, dammit! Stop flaunting…you!
“Like what you see?” Will asked, still focused on taking shots. How he noticed me checking him out I’ll never know.