Page 75 of The Man Upstairs

She put her phone on the coffee table.

“Well, we can’t stay in here for ever, right? What do you want to happen? Between us?”

I’d been avoiding probing the question in my own head, so I didn’t have an answer for her.

I was trying to view only one minute at a time, savouring every second.

I kept up my policy of honesty when it came to her.

“We play until we peak, and then you set yourself free when we plummet. You can give me a wave goodbye as you move on to better things.”

She looked as though I’d slapped her, open mouthed.

“What?” I asked. “You have a whole future ahead, Rosie. I’m just a distraction at the beginning.”

She shook her head as though I was speaking the absurd.

“I’m not going to wave you goodbye and move on tobetterthings. I don’t want to.”

I stubbed my cigarette out in the ashtray, pulling the window closed.

“I appreciate the faith and sentiment, but this isn’t your road ahead in the long term, I assure you. You’re only just beginning your adulthood. I’m approaching the end of mine.”

Her beautiful innocence shone through. She was still insistent, still shaking her head as though I was wrong.

“I’m not going to move on. And you aren’t approaching the end of yours. You’re forty-eight, not eighty-four.”

“And you’re barely approaching nineteen.”

Her shining light changed to frustration. I saw the shift before my eyes. She tensed up, shaking her head with a different energy.

“Stop it. Age means nothing.”

I closed the gap to sit beside her.

“You deserve someone to go on the full journey with you, not just take advantage of you at the end of theirs.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not worth it, you’re the sick guy who shouldn’t be doing it, and I’m just a kid, and all that.” She sighed, and our choice to bury ourselves with no outside interaction showed its face. She was becoming confident around me, aided by the close proximity of a pressure cooker of one-on-one time. “I’m capable of knowing my own mind, thanks, andIwantyou.”

Again, her innocent enthusiasm was touching. I took hold of her hands.

“AndIwantyouto get what you need from life.”

“What I need is right here. Right now.”

I tried to break the tension with a smile.

“Naked, playing with marker pens, and rope, with my cock on permanent display. I’ve barely even managed to cook you a meal.”

She didn’t buy into my lighter tone.

“It’s not just about sex, and I don’t expect you to take care of me.” She pulled her hands away from mine. “Unless that’s what it is for you. Is that what it is? Is it just about fucking?”

“No, of course not.”

“So, who is going to say it first?”

This wasn’t the route I wanted the conversation to go down, but I didn’t have a choice. Her stare was too insistent. It felt stupid to play the fool, but I tried.