Chapter 3

There we were, looking over the rail of the ferry, me and Jessica, and she'd just stepped closer and put her hand inside my arm.

Okay, I'm a little bit shocked. Happy? Yes. But shocked, too. I look at her face, her short hair swept back from it by the brisk breeze from the nearby Gulf and the forward motion of the ferry's travel. Those green eyes seemed cool, she had a little smile on her lips, and she wanted to say something.

"I trust that this is okay."

I touched her hand with my own. "Yes. Okay. A bit of a surprise, but very okay."

"I worried you'd mind."

"Do I look crazy?"

"Your daughter says..."

"Forget what she says," I said.

"I'm sure the conversation will come up again," she said. "But I just sort of thought that holding onto you had a rightness to it."

"Because I'm a convenient guy?"

"Nope. Because you're a good guy."

We were approaching the other terminal so we stepped back from the rail and went back to the car.

She was smiling when we got in.

"I feel better," she said. "You've been nice to me. You're being nice to me. I like it. You treat me like a princess."

"I don't. I don't treat you like anything. You're intelligent and friendly and I like that." And I pushed a little further. "The fact that you're a little cutie is a plus."

"My age?"

I sighed. "Not a problem to me. I have been known to talk to babies."

"Seriously."

"How serious do you want to be? We're friends."

"Uh-huh ... and you're being evasive."

"Oh, okay. So what am I evading?"

"Talking about relationships."

"We have a relationship?"

"Friendship is a relationship."

"Yes, you're right, but that's a given."

She smiled. "At least you admit that much."

"There's more?"

"Maybe. We're a hundred miles from home in this whole different town. It's Friday night and unless I read you wrong, you're NOT going to want to go hang out at some bar with loud music and crowds."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Your daughter said ... One of the problems with your previous marriage ... You are a stick in the mud."

"So if you know THAT about me, why did you want to bring me here?"

"Perhaps," she said, "I desire the same thing. Just like Friday nights and Saturday nights we've done together, except HERE."

"New restaurants," I said. "What's your preference?"

"I heard about this seafood place. Is seafood okay?"

"Seafood's fine," I said.

"I heard it's kind of pricey, though. I'll pay for mine."

"When Hell freezes over," I said.

"No. This is MY idea. You shouldn't..."

"I am. Just because you came up with the idea doesn't mean it's totally YOUR responsibility."

"'Kay. I'll let you."

We pulled into a parking slot at the hotel, each grabbed our bags, and I checked us in. I felt awkward in the elevator. Glanced at her.

She was smiling. Giggled. "You! You're nervous."

"Uh..."

"You ARE!"

"Well..."

"Oh, surely you've taken a girl to a hotel room before."

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?"

"Well..." The door opened. "Let's get these bags in the room."

"Oh, sure. Dodge the question."

"Not dodging."

We walked up the hall to the room. I opened the door and let her in first.

The door closed behind me. She turned. "So! Back to the question. Why are you nervous?"

"Because I have no idea what we're doing, past dinner."

"Poor Barry. I intend on showering, changing into my nightshirt and then doing what you and I always do, watch a movie. There's something on HBO that I wouldn't mind seeing if YOU don't object. And..." she said dramatically as she popped her suitcase open, "I brought THIS!" She waved a Kindle. "Feel better?"

"Okay," I said. At least it seems like she has limits. I don't know that I have.

"Come on, Barry ... Relax. This is gonna be okay. Let's go eat."

And heaven help me, but the tastiest thing imaginable was walking toward the door.

We did the restaurant she'd talked about. Had a couple of margaritas apiece, too. Not enough for a buzz, though, which meant that on the way back to the hotel...

"Barry, do you ever drink wine?"

"On occasion. Why?"

"Sometimes a glass of wine ... And not that Strawberry Hill crap. Do you wanna?"

"Let's see if we can find a place."

"I'm on it," she said, thumbs dancing on her iPhone.

The clerk at the liquor store eyed HER suspiciously but didn't ID me. We selected a chardonnay on her request. And a couple of glasses.

"Now, let's hurry. The movie starts at ten and we need to shower..."

So I hurried, just a little bit.

As soon as we walked in the room, the wine went in the little fridge. Then, shower time.

"You go first," she said.

I did as ordered, showered, shaved, splashed on a bit of the aftershave she'd made me pack. I walked out of the bathroom wearing a set of pajamas that I've worn maybe three times since I bought them five years ago.

She was crosslegged on one of the two beds, Kindle in hand. She scanned me from head to toe. "Not bad. I like that color. Very chaste," she said.

"What was I supposed to do, walk out of the bathroom with my tallywhacker flapping in the breeze?"

She giggled. "Tallywhacker. Hadn't heard that one in a while. And no, the proper configuration would have been fully erect."

"You're a horrible, horrible girl," I retorted.

She grabbed her makeup case and headed into the bathroom shaking her head.

I flipped idly through the channels, finding nothing, so I left the TV on HBO and grabbed my iPad. I'm in the middle of a history book that I find interesting.

I hear the shower stop, then the hair dryer goes for a bit. Finally I hear the door open. She comes around the corner wearing a Hello Kitty nightshirt. On her, it goes down past mid-thigh. Like I said, she's a short little thing.

She saw me looking and she pirouetted. "Well?"

"Very chaste," I said.

"Wine," she said. "It should've chilled for a couple of hours, but I'll take what we got."

I pulled the bottle from the fridge and retrieved the two glasses.

"Uh, I forgot about a corkscrew," she said.

"Gotcha covered," I told her. I reached into the pocket of my travel bag and pulled out a Swiss Army knife. "Corkscrew!" I announced. I opened the bottle and poured us each a glass.

I THOUGHT that she'd be in her bed and I'd be in mine. I need to be more adventurous in my thinking. She tossed a couple of pillows from her bed to mine and plopped herself down beside me, sipping wine.

She cast a glance my way. "You look surprised."

"Just a little. What happened to that 'two beds' thing?"

"That's about sleeping. This is about watching a kind of girlie movie and being close to someone nice."

"Oh."

"Hush and drink your wine."

"Yes, ma'am."

Giggle.

The movie started. Pretty standard chick flick, or 'romantic comedy' if you wish. A scene came on with a bunch of girls around a pool, bikini-clad, and I'm a normal male with a broad appreciation of the female form. I scanned the scene. Nice-looking, to be sure. I surreptitiously glanced at the little cutie in bed beside me. Nope. This 'un's just as good, plus she has an actual brain.

Part of me, though, doesn't care about brains at all.

Squeak! "You're getting HARD!"

I crossed my legs quickly, a move I was contemplating immediately beforehand but hadn't figured out how to do so without appearing obvious. "And YOU'RE looking."

"Maybe it'll go away when you refill my glass," she said.

"It's good wine. You shouldn't slam it like that."

Another giggle. "Yours is just as empty as mine, bucko."

I stood up, sort of hunched over to hide my erection.

She laughed. "Oh, for heaven's sake, stand up. I've seen erections before."

"You haven't seen mine, and I don't make a habit of parading it about." But I stood up. And as I suspected, it went to half-mast. I refilled both glasses. I took a sip from mine.

"Here, take a sip. Make room for me to kill the bottle."

Her eyes twinkled as she took a quick gulp. I emptied the bottle between our two glasses, handed hers to her, put mine on the nightstand and crawled back into bed beside her.

More action on the screen. Another giggle. "You're hard again."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I like this movie. I've seen it a dozen times."

"Didn't you suspect that it might arouse a normal male?"

"You're not a normal male. You're my friend Barry. And if you're aroused, that's okay with me. Drink your wine."

I willed my erection to go down. It wouldn't. I know she's looking at it every so often, a little smirk on her lips. She drained the wineglass and turned halfway towards me. "So my Barry is horny."

"No," I protested.

"You are, you know. And it's sad, because you're all horny because of those women on TV and..." she scooted up closer to me and breathily whispered in my ear, "I'm right here."

"Oh, god, Jess..." I turned my head and ran into a pair of soft, moist lips. I died. My zombie self kissed back, so soft, so sweet, her tongue touching my lips, then dancing with my own.

"Jess..."

"You kiss good," she said, pushing in for another, her body moving ever closer. I put my arms around her.

"That is what I wanted. I wanted to be held by you," she sighed, then another kiss.

"I'm human, too, Barry ... You're a fine-looking man, and I am entirely too human." Her hand touched the bare skin of my waist where the scrub top had ridden up. She slid her hand up inside, touching my chest, leaving a trail of fire wherever her hand landed.

My own hands traced her back, downward, cupping the cheeks of a particularly sweetly rounded ass. I squeezed. She sighed.

"Jessica ... I want..."

"Me, too, Barry. Now..."

That hard-on? She touched it, then she tugged the tie-string of my scrub pants.

"This one. I want THIS one, Barry..."

"Baby ... protection..."

She kissed me. "I'm on the Pill. If you want condoms, I have 'em. Or you can trust me..."

I didn't have enough cognitive ability to put a condom on now. I slid my hands up under her nightshirt, covering those perfect little breasts, gently tweaking the nipples, eliciting moans.