“Can I nap?”
“No. You can watch and appreciate.”
He didn’t look too sure about that.
I picked up my cup and warmed my hands around it. “You never know, you might like it. The dancers wear short skirts.”
“Will you wear a short skirt?”
“Hush,” I admonished, but then I winked. “We’re being friends today, remember?”
Grinning, he leaned closer to me and spoke quietly. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who made a reference to my big dick earlier.”
I lifted my shoulders in a way that showed I didn’t care. “Oops.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“Yes, I noticed that.” Picking up my cup, I took a sip, then licked up some whipped cream in what I hoped was an alluring, sensual move that did not end with anything on my nose.
Charlie smiled and sat back. “I’ve missed you this last week.”
That surprised me. “You have?”
“Yes. You didn’t miss me?”
Of course I did. Especially your magic parts. “Maybe a little.”
“And I’m really happy to be out with you. I always have fun when we’re together.”
“Me too.” We should fuck.
“Should we grab dinner maybe? I think this place closes at five, and it’s getting close.”
“Sure.” And then we should fuck.
“Feel like pizza? I’ve got an idea.”
“Sounds great.” I finished my hot chocolate, we piled on our winter gear and headed out.
On our way back to Campus Martius, I congratulated myself on being a little flirty and a little dirty without going overboard. I had to play this exactly right if I wanted him to know it was OK to touch me tonight, even though this wasn’t a date.
Which was why I was surprised when Charlie picked up my hand and held it as we walked back through Campus Martius, darkness falling faster than the snow flurries drifting down around us. Here I was trying to be all no-strings, and he was the one saying he missed me and being all romantic. I lifted our hands and goggled at them.
“You want to hold my hand?” I teased. “Isn’t that, like, a gesture of affection that is nonsexual?”
Charlie looked pleased with himself. “It is. I think I’m growing as a person, being friends with you.”
“Oh, good. We’re still friends. I was just checking to make sure this didn’t turn into, you know…” I wrinkled my nose. “A date.”
“What? No.” He elbowed me. “I don’t date.”
“No, no. Of course not.”
“Hey, look. The tree lights are on.”
We stopped to look at the city’s towering evergreen Christmas tree, lit with thousands of multi-colored lights. I shivered, and Charlie pulled me back against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “Cold?” he asked.
“Uh…a little.” OK, what the hell was he doing now? This didn’t seem like just friends territory. Then again, I was new to this fuck friend thing. Maybe in addition to the main course, you got a few side dishes too, like holding hands and the occasional cuddle. It was nice, actually. I leaned back against him, and he gave me a squeeze.
“Thanks for coming skating. I know you didn’t want to.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And I’m sorry I didn’t call you last weekend. I wanted to.”
I froze. What what what? He was apologizing for not calling me? “That’s OK. I wasn’t expecting you to.”
“I know you weren’t.”
I swallowed. Don’t be sweet to me, Charlie. You’ll ruin everything. “Should we go eat?”
Charlie’s idea was to grab carryout from PizzaPapalis and take it back to my place. “You don’t want to eat here?” I asked, happy to be out of the cold.
“We could, but I have something else for you in the car, and I want to give it to you.” He tapped my nose. “You’re getting all kinds of presents today, Red.”
I swatted his hand away and gave him a girlish smile. “I do love presents.”
“How did I know that about you?”
After a brief argument about what to order on our pizza—Charlie wanted four different kinds of meat and I prefer veggies—we settled for a deep dish Spinach Special with bacon and an Antipasto salad.
Back at my house, I stuck the pizza in the oven to keep it warm and took out plates, salad bowls, silverware, and napkins. Charlie went out to the car again, and when he came back in he carried an armload of firewood.
I gasped, clapping my hands together. “You brought wood!”
“My wood excites you, I know.”
I slapped him on the shoulder as he went by, but my pulse quickened at the innuendo. Humming a Christmas tune, I pulled two wine glasses from the cupboard and didn’t even complain when he left giant wet footprints on my kitchen floor. I just wiped them up.
“Got any newspaper?” he called from the front room.
I had an old Grosse Pointe News in my recycle bin, which I brought him along with long match sticks. “Here. I bought these in case I figured out how to do this. I even have the pokery tool things.” I gestured toward the little rack.
“Pokery tool things?” Smiling, he shook his head. “Let’s move your table and couch a little further away from the fireplace, OK?”
As we were moving the furniture, I had an idea. While Charlie rolled up newspaper and laid it in the bottom of the grate, I ran upstairs and got a big cream-colored fleece blanket from my hallway linen closet. Down in the front room, I dragged the coffee table further out of the way and spread the blanket out on the floor a few feet away from the fireplace. “I thought we could have a picnic,” I said.