Page 9 of The Intimacy of Control

Controlled chaos, I liked to call it.

“Need your glasses, boss?”

I jumped back, turning my head to Andros. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He smiled. “I could tell. Want me to take that over? I see you didn’t organize them. Again. For the millionth time.”

“I’ve got it.” I shooed him away with my hand. “You go man the counter. I can handle this.”

One of his purple eyebrows raised as he crossed his arms. “Uh huh. Why do I doubt that?”

“I don’t know, but you should have more faith in me. I haven’t let the store down yet, have I?”

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The way he put his hands up in defeat and slowly walked away with sass in his stride told me everything I needed to know.

Well, I wasn’t going to admit defeat, nor was I going to admit that I did need my glasses, either. I just had to hold the books out in front of me a bit farther than I would’ve without them. I hated wearing my glasses. I usually only wore them when I was actually reading, or if I needed to do some computer work.

I squinted at the rows of books on the cart with the spines facing me, mentally going through the entire alphabet. I landed on the J names, picking up a book by Manuel Jackson. I stared at the cover, shamelessly admiring the shirtless cover model in the background.

The model looked a lot like Jack, the more I looked at him. I regretted not insisting on at least exchanging numbers with him. I thought we had a good thing going. I mean, we were obviously intimately compatible, and we’d had a nice, civil chat the next morning, like we could’ve become friends. I wasn’t going to admit my disappointment to his face, but I definitely felt it.

I understood where he was coming from, though. I guess I was more selfish than I’d usually let on, since all I could think about was going to Driftwood and asking him on a formal date. If we went on a date, it wouldn’t be a one-night stand anymore, right? So, by that logic, maybe he’d be alright seeing each other again. Maybe.

Yeah, that didn’t make any sense, either. I knew I should just let it go—let him go—but I found it far easier said than done. He was on my mind all the time, which probably wasn’t a good thing.

Fuck, the way he’d whimpered beneath me. The way he took my banter so easily. The way he took my cock like it was made for him. Jack was a dream come true, and I wanted to sleep just so I could dream of him again. Was that too much to ask for? Probably.

“Um, excuse me?”

I shelved the book I had in my hand, hoping it was the right spot, and turned to the woman. “Hi, did you need some help looking for something?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, nodding. “Yeah, if you’re not busy. I was wondering if you could point me toward the sapphic section? If you guys have one. Or where they might be.”

“For sure. Follow me.” I took her up the aisle, closer to the front, and turned to the right. I looked down the rows, stopping in front of the sign I was looking for. “Here you go. This and the row behind it are all sapphic novels.” I waved my hand up and down. “We have spotlights for BIPOC representation as well along these shelves.”

“Oh, wow. This is a lot, thank you. Are they…” She trailed off as she touched one of the placards at the end of each smaller section. “They’re split up by genre too. Thanks!”

I smiled and nodded, leaving her to browse to her heart’s content. Only a few more books to put up, and I’d be able to order some more and then leave Andros to finish out the day. Maybe I should stop by Driftwood and see if Jack still had my shirt…

That’d be reasonable. Expected, even. I’d told him I was going to, I just hadn’t said when. Even though it’d been almost a week, it should be fine. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.

I made my way back to the front with an empty rolling cart and waited for Andros to finish checking the woman from earlier out. She’d bought three books and one of our cute rainbow planners we set out at the front.

Once she left, we were all alone. I leaned over the counter, right as Andros started messing with his bright, neat purple hair. “Do you think it’d be weird of me to show up at a dude’s work to ask for the shirt he borrowed from me and then try to get him to go out with me even though he said he didn’t do repeats?”

He paused, hand mid-air, as he slowly turned to me. “Probably, yeah. Why do you think he’ll say yes to a date if he said he doesn’t do repeats?”

“‘Cause it wouldn’t be another one-night stand. It’d be a date. No hanky panky.”

Andros snorted. “Hanky panky. What are you, fourteen?”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe you should be nicer to the person who finalizes your paychecks. Ever thought about that?”

“No. But my point still stands, boss. It’d probably be weird, and I don’t think it’d go well. How good was the sex?”

I’d thought about it at least a dozen times over, all in slow motion from the moment I’d talked to him at the bar. Every move of his body, every tingle in mine, every breath we’d shared. “Life changing.”

Andros shrugged. “Then maybe it’s worth a shot. Don’t get your hopes up.”