Before I complied I asked, “Did you call and make reservations?”
He shook his head ‘no’; “Come. Sit.” he said as he placed his hand on my arm above the elbow and pulled me to the red vinyl seat. “I want to know more about mammals.” His mouth hooked to one side in a poorly hidden smile.
I complied, frowning at him and his teasing.
Before we left the apartment but after Quinn finished dressing, he offered his sister’s clothes if I wanted something else to wear. All her personal things were located in a room, really, an oversized walk-in closet, adjacent to the bathroom. You had to walk through the bathroom to get to the closet. I didn’t feel especially comfortable digging through someone else’s things so I grabbed the first casual outfit I saw: a blue cotton knee length skirt and a v-neck black t-shirt.
Her feet were a full size smaller than mine so I wore my zebra print stilettos out to breakfast. Thankfully, the skirt fit perfectly. The shirt, however, was snug over my chest. The strapless bra I wore was a surprisingly supportive brazier but it was also a push-up.
Therefore, paired with the snug fit of the v-neck, my usually well-concealed cleavage was brazenly, visibly ample. I thought about removing the strapless bra but I was never one of those girls who could go comfortably bra-less; there was too much jiggle in my wiggle.
I washed my face and used my finger to brush my teeth then paused to look in the mirror. I had your typical Northern European mutt-heritage coloring: pale skin that burned instead of tanned, a light smattering of freckles, red-brown hair, eyebrows, and lashes.
I felt marginally better after the brief ministrations; my hair, however, was a complete disaster. I thought about asking Quinn if his sister owned any hair ties or barrettes or rope or anything I might be able to use to tame the wild beast. In the end I just wore the fuzzy mess of knots loose down my back, over my shoulders, and- at times- in my face. I figured, worst case scenario, I could try to use it to clandestinely cover my ample bosom.
While we walked to the breakfast cafe, however, Quinn would brush it back from my cheeks when it became too unruly which invariably caused my skin to burn scarlet and I would lose all semblance of thought or focus. Directly following these interactions I prattled on about the concept of leap seconds, nano technology, and the inevitable space elevator which would allow the moon to rival Disney World as a tourist destination.
Quinn didn’t talk much but seemed to listen with interest to each of the various and sundry topics; he asked questions periodically; the moon space elevator in particular drew an avalanche of questions. When I didn’t have all the answers I promised I would email him a link to the NASA update page for the project.
Presently, we sat quietly at the counter. I was trapped between him and the wall and stared without seeing at my menu. Maybe it was the fact that I was silent for the first time since leaving the apartment but I found myself attempting to ignore the sudden uncomfortable yet omnipresent self-awareness which was alternately giving me goosebumps and making my neck hot.
His thigh brushed against mine, his elbow grazed mine lightly; I leaned against the wall to gain as much distance as possible but couldn’t avoid the small touches in the tight space. I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes; he appeared completely at ease, studying his menu, oblivious to the gentle torture his careless closeness was causing. So absorbed in my discomfort, I was somewhat startled at the sound of the waitress’ voice.
“Heya Quinn. Wheres Shelly? Whoz yer friend?” a short, dark haired woman in her late fifties or early sixties gave me a brief friendly smile as she placed two mugs of coffee in front of us. She had the unmistakable rasp of a smoker and, paired with the thick mid-west accent, she sounded like Mike Ditka.
“Shelly left early this morning and couldn’t come. This is Janie. Janie, this is Viki.”
I dumbly reached my hand over the counter and tried to look and sound more composed than I felt, “It’s nice to meet you, Viki.”
She held her hands up, “Oh, baby, my hands are covered in grease. You don’t wanna shake deeze unless you wanna wash yer hands with turpentine.” A deep, gravelly laugh escaped her lips as she pulled out an order pad and pen, “But it sures nice to meetcha. Are you a friend of Shelly’s?”
Before I could answer that I didn’t know Shelly, Quinn interrupted me, “She’s here with me.”
Viki lifted her brow, for it truly was a single brow, in what I guessed was surprise and her mouth formed a small ‘O’. I felt her eyes move over me with renewed interest. I started to blush. I gripped the menu a little harder and tried to swallow but found the simple action difficult.