Page 36 of Stag

There was something really vulnerable about him, like he didn’t like or trust himself at all, and kept waiting for things to go wrong. I wanted to reassure him, but I didn’t know him well enough to know if he deserved that yet. I did know that he went out of his way to get me away from Marissa before I lost my shit, but did that mean he was a good man?

He gave me his only helmet, and risked his life to ride to the shop for another, so that was a tick in the good guy box for sure. Or the idiot one. He could have been killed, but he still put my safety first, so I’m sticking with that being a good guy move. A green flag as they call it.

He bought me dinner, and he was going out of his way to interact with me in ways that were easy for me to feel included and normal. That was all good stuff too.

He had the most beautiful lips, and I knew he could kiss well enough to take the strength from my legs, and set my heart thumping in my chest. I wondered, if that happened again, would he hear it? I couldn’t of course, but when it pounded so hard, maybe it was audible to others. It’d tell him just how he was making me feel, but I had a suspicion that he wasn’t the kind of man to read things like that, or take hints. He needed things in black and white, and that was fine with me.

“Come to the class tomorrow, and learn the basics. It’s so much easier in person, but let me show you a few easy ones. This is hi, or hello,” I said, moving my hand to teach him the signal.

He watched my hands like a hawk, as I showed him a few others; goodbye, thank you, sorry, and he mirrored each one with something that looked very much like relief on his face.

“I’ll need that one a lot,” he said after he mastered the sign for ‘sorry’. I hadn’t seen any evidence of this self he described who messed things up. He’d been all the right things for me so far.

“This is going to be a little forward, so I’m going to teach you yes and no, and you can answer me with the sign, okay?”

He nodded, his brow creasing a little, looking suddenly nervous.

“This is yes,” I said, demonstrating the ‘nodding head’ gesture with my head and fist, “and this is no.” Again I signed as I spoke, and watched him practice.

“So, here’s my question,” I paused and he nodded, looking wary now, “If I wanted to stay over, would that be okay? Not for sex, because like I said, we need to build up to that. It’s just… I don’t want to go home.”

He was smiling, and trying so hard to fight it, that I felt my heart thud again. He signed yes, and tried again to fight the smile.

“You’re being very cute right now,” I said, smiling right back at him, watching his cheeks redden a little in response.

“I’m being a pussy, I know. Just… I didn’t think you’d want to stay. I thought I’d be running you home, but you wanna stay.” He turned to look around him, like he was seeing his lodgings through my eyes.

“It’s fine. I like it. It feels like going on an adventure.”

He took a deep breath as his eyes returned to mine. He signed yes once more. And again. Then, with a laugh, he did it again.

“You realise the toilet’s a fucking portable thing out there right now? And the shower?”

Oh. I glanced at the area in the corner that looked like an old fashioned wash basin, with soap and towels beside it.

“That’s where I freshen up in between. And brush my teeth,” he said when I looked at him again.

The logistics were starting to occur to me now, and although it still seemed like an adventure, I was starting to second guess my decision. Stag reached over and touched my hand, squeezing it lightly.

“I can still take you home if you like. If I had the funds right now, I’d get a room somewhere, offer you a better option than this.”

Maybe it was his words that settled things for me, or maybe it was the sincerity in his eyes as I looked up from his lips. He was so earnest, and sweet. So safe, there was definitely a feeling of safety here with him.

“Will you wait for me while I use the toilet?” He grinned, standing up beside the bed, and reaching for my hand.

Going to bed was a strange experience, with this man I only know a little, who had a bed that wasn’t quite a double, but was a little wider than a single. He’d stripped down to his t-shirt and jeans, and I chose to stay dressed too, but when he lifted the covers for me to slide in, he reached for a rolled up sleeping bag instead.

“Wait. What are you doing?”

He gestured to the bed, a downright morose look on his face.

“Not big enough for two, and you don’t really know me. I’ll be fine down here. You’re safe.”

I caught his hand as he turned his head while speaking, for the first time so far, and I missed the words after ‘safe’.

“I missed that.”

His face dropped, and he looked like he’d been kicked.