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“Nope.”
“Friend?”
“Coworker.”
“Male?” Another bite is taken to mask the insecurity I wish didn’t exist. “Female?”
She tilts her head in a teasing nature, however, doesn’t answer the question.
I don’t need her to.
I would just like her to.
Appreciate it.
I made my feelings about exclusivity clear when this all started.
Bryn seemed to be in agreement then; therefore, I’m going to assume she still is now.
“So, are all the comics in here just Batman?”
Swallowing my pride alongside the treat is more difficult than I care to admit. “They are either his or feature him in a principle or collective role to the main storyline focus.”
“And the toys?” She casually points to the action figures still in their packaging. “Are they for playing?”
“No.”
“What about the mounted masks? Are they for wearing?”
“No.”
“Can I at least put on one of the capes?”
“Why?”
“Why not?” Her white tank top bounces when she shrugs, flashing her belly button. “What’s the point in having a bunch of cool shit everywhere if all you’re gonna do is look at it?” She mischievously leans forward at the same time she taunts. “That’s what they make museums for.”
It’s almost impossible not to smirk.
“Come on, Wes,” the woman I swear could convince me to rob a bank in spite of knowing I don’t need the money seductively coos. “You know you wanna wear a cape with me.”
“Now, I’m wearing one with you?”
“If you want, I can wear nothing but the cape.”
I do want.
I suddenly do want that much more than any man my age should.
A crooked grin slowly growing into place occurs before she heads to the coat rack in the corner where they’re displayed. “Which one do you want, Bruce?”
“Whichever.”
The end of the cookie slips into my mouth as she picks one of the articles unaware of just how weighty they truly are. “Holy fuck that’s heavy.”
All she’s offered is a smug smirk.
“No one could fight crime in this shit!”
