Page 19

“I’m sorry I upset you.” The words taste hollow. “It wasn’t my intention to make you lose hope.”

She looks up, her mouth slightly agape as she holds the fork up to take another bite.

“Oh...Oh no.” She swishes her hand in front of her tobat away my apology, spaghetti sauce flicking across the floor. “I’m just in my own head. Nothing to worry about.”

“Tell me.”

I’m not sure what possessed me to say it. She seems to be wondering the same thing as she does an adorable head tilt.

“We’ve never spoken much before. Why start now?”

“We’ve never spoken beforeever,” I correct her.

She smiles. “I’m sure you said hi to me once. I was awful and ignored you.”

“I can understand why now you’ve explained.”

“I have a feeling we’re going to go around on a loop here.” She hitches her foot up onto the chair so she can almost rest her chin on her knee. I lean back against the wall and lift my leg as well, mirroring her.

“Hmm. okay. So let's talk about something neutral,” I suggest.

“What’s a neutral topic between captive and captor?”

I think for a moment, choosing from the list of questions I had banked up this afternoon.

“Why did you get into personal fitness?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask how you know that. You called me a blogger the other day. How did you know?”

How did I know that? Oh, right, she doesn’t know that I’ve been watching her videos for the last two years only to masturbate to ones of her doing pilates or talking about healthy work snacks. No, I'm not ashamed. Her smile, her hair, her beautiful face and body are only enhanced by how fucking sexy she is when she’s talking about her passion. And the whole time I’ve been semi-stalking her at Squeeze the Day. With each new video that was posted, it felt like a personal gift to me.Merry Fucking Christmas—I can watch you on the other four days of the week from the comfort of my own home.

“I didn’t.” I shrug. “But the constant leggings and crop tops, excessive amount of gym equipment, and the fact that you have time to sit in a café three times a week at 10 a.m. just to read would suggest you don’t have a typical nine-to-five.And everyone your age has an online presence. Am I wrong?”

Jesus, that’s a ramble.

“Spend a lot of time monitoring the younger generation, do you?” she quips.

“I’m not that much older than you.”

“That’s exactly what an old person would say.”

A laugh rumbles from my chest, and I throw my head back, clunking it against the wall.

“Fuck, that was your fault.” I lift my hand awkwardly to rub the back of my head. The chain just about lets me reach.

“Mine? Typical Boomer, blaming us young’uns for everything.”

“Fucking BOOMER? If I wasn’t chained up, I’d—”

Her eyebrow raises, her lips parting ever so slightly. I can see her perfect, pink tongue peeking out.

“You’d what?” she whispers.

For a moment, I think she’s scared. But I notice the subtlety of her movements; after all, I’ve watched her for years.

Her thighs clench, and she leans toward me, not away. Her voice lowers, and the slow movement down her throat suggests that the thought of me out of these chains makes her mouth water. Maybe it’s inevitable that we’ll get there. Maybe she’s been fantasizing as much as I have. But it’s too soon. I don’t want to scare her. Only last night she panicked at waking up with her head in my lap.

And there goes my dick again. Perking up at the thought of her in my lap.