Charlotte Stein - Telling Tales

Which is weird, when you really think about it.

‘Nothing. I guess your story last night really threw me for a loop,’ I finish, though it’s no better than what I was going to say, in all honesty. It sounds as though I’m talking about something else altogether, and when he grins I know he’s thinking that.

‘Yeah?’ he says and I brace myself. I know what’s coming. Or at least I kind of do until he does it, until he gets right up close to me suddenly and breathes all of his hot breath on me and murmurs in that husky way of his. ‘Well I thought you were going to come to my room last night. And maybe if you had, I could have told you a story instead.’

Ugh. Ugh. When did he become this Master of Seduction type of guy? Was he always like this? Did I always like it? Because I’m liking it now even though I don’t want to, and my body feels all hot and my face feels all hot and this close up he’s so good looking and so wolfish. Predatory, I think, even though I always used to consider him gentle. Kind, and gentle.

‘Oh yeah? Is that the one about the amateur gymnasts in the middle of the night?’ I say, only I mean it to be confrontational and bolshy and it comes out like I’m flirting instead. Like I want him to lean even closer toward me and whisper in my ear about all the stories he just can’t wait to tell me.

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