DAMON

Opening my eyes, I meet the wary gaze of a one-eyed doll. Her expression remains serious and though the sun casts a yellow glow on her porcelain face, it doesn’t warm her expression any. Blinking at her, I take a moment to understand and then I smile. “Good morning Charlotte,” I whisper, my voice still croaky from sleep.

Looking towards the source of implicit warmth, I find Alexa still molded to my chest, her robe draped over us both. Still asleep, her hair tumbles over my shoulder, tickling my nose when I turn my face to it. I wonder what time it is and realize I don’t care. I haven’t slept without medication in months, and this morning I feel refreshed and alive. And it’s all thanks to her.

I kiss the top of her head and she stirs. With a low moan, her hand rises out from under her robe and sweeps hair from her face. Taking a moment to orient herself as I did, Alexa startles and looks up at my face.

“Damon?”

“Hey,” I whisper with a smile. I want to sweep more hair back from her face, but I won’t. She won’t like it. None of the girls ever like it. “We fell asleep,” I murmur needlessly.

Looking down at herself, and me, Alexa frowns. “Yeah.” Gingerly prying her skin from mine, Alexa pushes herself up and rubs her face. There’s a red mark on her cheek from where we were joined and it’s already starting to fade. “That’s... unusual.”

“You don’t usually do sleepovers?” I ask quietly, my heart sinking a little.

“No,” she says firmly, pulling herself off me and shaking her head as she slides into her robe and grabs her tissues. I take the box from her before she starts tending to the condom situation left over from last night. Sitting up, I rush to recover the situation.

“Sorry. If I knew that, I would’ve taken care of things. I would’ve left. I don’t usually fall asleep so easily, but last night, I was so comfortable and happy that I don’t even remember falling asleep. Normally I need sleepers to drop off, but I-” I stop, because she’s staring at me with an irritated expression. I ramble when I’m nervous, so it’s probably that, but it sure doesn’t help that I’ve inadvertently over-stayed my welcome in her safe space and my pants are still around my ankles. Finishing with the tissues, I pull my pants up and throw the trash into the wastebasket under her desk. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It’s as much my fault as yours, and I actually slept very well,” she says, frowning again. “It’s just...” Looking at me, she puts one hand on her hip as the other passes slowly over her lips. “Unusual.”

I don’t know what that means, but she doesn’t seem mad exactly. Or scared. So that’s something.

“I need coffee. And a shower. You want one?”

“Um, both? Both would be good.” I stand up and look around the room, before remembering I left my shirt in the study with my bag and my phone. “Do you have the time?”

Finding her phone under some clothes on her chair, she looks up in surprise. “It’s nearly eleven. Do you have class today?”

“Eleven?” I scratch my beard and laugh a little. “Good sleep. And not much point in going to class now. Should I use the shower down by the study?”

“Sure. Help yourself to towels in there. Just watch out for the honeymooners,” she says with a smile as she waves me out the door.

“Got it.”

Padding through the kitchen, I kind of hope I don’t run into anyone, but of course in an apartment this big, that’s just wishful thinking. The girl named Kat is doing something to her hair in the living room as she reads the newspaper. Her eyes rise to me as I walk by.

“Damon?” she asks, as if she’s seeing things. “You’re over early.”

“Ah, not really,” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat. “Good morning, Kat.” I nod politely and turn down the hall. I hear a rustle of paper and turn around to see that Kat has disappeared and a page of newspaper is still floating lazily to the floor. It’s like something from a cartoon show. Turning back around, I see Bruno and Scarlett coming out of the bathroom and feel my nose crinkle.

“Oh man. Did you guys clean up after yourselves, or do I have to watch where I step in there?”

“You stayed over?” Bruno asks, patting Scar’s ass as she rushes back to her room in her towel. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“I probably should be, but it’s totally worth not being there, because of the answer to your first question, which is yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a monster leak, followed by a moderately cold a shower. And if I slip over in there, because of you horny Buffalonians, I will have my revenge.”

Laughing, Bruno shakes his head as he walks towards his room. “Whatever man. Go nuts.”

Dressing after the shower, I have to wear the same clothes as yesterday, because I sure hadn’t planned on sleeping over. Choosing to go commando, I pull my pants back on and wander across to the study to retrieve my shirt and pack my bag. I figure I’ll leave the Jamboard here for the next study session.

Following my nose back to the kitchen, I find Alexa freshly showered and leaning against the counter sipping her coffee.

“How do you take yours?” she asks, setting her cup down next to one that’s mostly full of black coffee.

“With cream if you have it, thanks. Or milk is fine.” I add, because maybe a house full of body-conscious people doesn’t have cream in their fridge.

Alexa has a strange look on her face as she reaches into the fridge.

“What? Do I have something on my face? Sometimes towel fluff gets stuck to my beard without me noticing. It’s like Velcro.”

Giggling a little, or maybe trying not to, Alexa shakes her head as she pours cream into the waiting cup and nudges it towards me. “Your face is fine. We take our coffee the same way. Well, except mine is still hot and yours is... tepid.”

“Thank you for remembering that tepid is my preferred temperature.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sipping my coffee, I watch her as she watches me. Setting it back on the bench, I lick my lips. “So... do we need to talk about this thing that we’re doing or will that make it weird, do you think?”

“I think weirdness is a distinct possibility, considering the rapid onset, bizarre arrangement and obvious chemistry, but so far I’m not getting any negative effects, so I’m happy for it to continue. You?”

“No negative effects here either. Definitely several positives. I’d be delighted to continue.”

“Well okay then,” Alexa says with a nod. “The enjoyable oddness continues.”

Relieved that she’s confirmed more time on this extraordinary, erotic ride, I relax a little and take up my coffee again, drinking Alexa in as I sip. Swaying a little on the spot, her warm eyes glance up at my face every now and then, before darting away again as a nervous smile graces her beautiful lips. I want to tell her not to worry; that I’ll do whatever she wants because I never want to lose this crazy awesome feeling inside that happens every time I see, or even think of her. But it strikes me that perhaps that would scare her, because I’m not sure she really knows what she wants.

Interesting that an intelligent girl with such drive might be unsure of which direction to drive in. I hope it’s mine, but given what I’ve learned so far, unless she decides that for herself, I’ll end up pushed away.

“So... Apparently I’m playing hooky today and have some time up my sleeve,” I say, careful to keep my tone light and non-committal. “I could use the time wisely to clean out my storage unit, if you’re still available to help. I know you’re probably sick of looking at my ugly mug, but today would actually be the best time for me to do it before this weekend’s garage sale, and I really would like to donate.”

Alexa’s face lights up a little, but then she frowns.

“Or not,” I add quickly, fearing the inevitable rejection I sense waiting in the wings. “It was just an idea. I thought I could help deliver those boxes too,” I say, gesturing towards the living room. “My car has a huge trunk. But I understand if you have things to do.”

Shaking her head, Alexa looks beyond me. “I can help with your storage unit, and a Shermansky delivery service would be great, because only Benji has a car, but it would take a dozen trips to cart everything down to The Mission in that. It’s just that I promised Kat and Scar that I’d tag along to Green’s - that’s the fruit and veg place the next block over - to observe... something.”

“Something?” I ask, intrigued. “Sounds ominous. Is it an undercover investigation? Did Grocer Green commit a crime in aisle two, with the zucchini?”

Giving me a bizarre look, Alexa shakes her head as she checks the area to make sure we’re alone. “Scar’s convinced that Lennox - aka Grocer Green, is completely hot for Kat, but Kat denies any such inference whilst turning beetroot. I’m the objective third party, because if in fact he does, she clearly also does and needs to give herself permission to let her hair down and follow it up. She’s been hung up on some guy she lost years ago and is always so busy taking care of everyone else in her life that she’s been in self-deprivation city for years,” she says, meeting my eyes. “Literally. Years,” she elaborates, as if I’m not getting it. I wasn’t. But I am now.

“Years?”

Nodding, Alexa puts our cups in the dishwasher and grabs my shirt, pulling me back to her room. Rummaging in her closet, she pulls a pair of boots on over her fuzzy socks and skinny jeans. Piling her hair into a messy bun on her head, she looks around, takes a pencil from her desk and shoves it through the bun, holding it in place. Returning to the closet, she pulls out my jacket and tosses it to me before grabbing one of her own and sliding it on over her sweater.

“I think you should come along. Offer a male perspective. Then we can visit your storage unit. What do you think?”

What do I think? I’m so glad I get to spend more of my day with you that I wouldn’t care if we were going to the dentist to have our teeth pulled. I can’t say that.

Smiling, I pull my jacket on. “I think that I am now too curious about the Kat and Lennox situation not to want to know more. Will anyone mind if I tag along?”

“Why would they mind?” she asks, slipping her phone into her pocket.

Shrugging, I move to the doorway, secretly rejoicing that she seems to accept me and my presence without the usual side issues of fear and discrimination that can come with disability. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s meant to be a girls-only thing? Maybe the guy without hands is a weird choice of companion for undercover operations? I’m memorable. Do I need to go into stealth mode? I’ll go and get my bag.”

“You do that. Weirdo,” she says with a shake of her head. “I’m going to grab something to eat for the walk to Green’s. You want a pop tart?”

“Yes please,” I call over my shoulder as I head for the study.

***

ON THE WAY TO GREEN’S, I learn that Scarlett and Kat visit several times a week to fill their bags with produce to distribute to the less fortunate souls in their neighborhood. I’m beginning to understand that essentially every dancer from beyond is on a mission to not only help themselves overcome personal difficulties, but also to help others to do the same. The ultimate ‘paying it forward’ crew.

It’s honorable really, and I don’t think many people would ever think to imagine the layers in the lives of these strippers beyond what they see on the stage. I knew Alexa was a giver before I knew she was a stripper, so I don’t know if I would have thought differently or otherwise. I’d like to think not. I don’t really care about the stripping at all. I get it. She doesn’t like to be touched, and she’s found a bubble of protection, where she can earn a decent living dancing out her sexual inhibitions without fear; in an attempt to understand them.

A little bell rings above us as we enter and a large man looks up from stacking carrots. A grin as broad as his chest lights his face as he greets his customers and his gaze lingers on Kat a moment too long before he returns his attention to the carrots, rushing to empty the box onto the stacked display. Looking around, I see no other attendant at the store, so this must be the famous Lennox, aka Grocer Green.

Bearded like me, I have no idea if the girls would think he was a handsome man or not. He’s not my type. To me, he looks like a friendly, sort of hairy teddy bear that could potentially rip you to shreds if you crossed him. With his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal two burly and heavily-inked arms, his body almost seems a contradiction to his pleasantly welcoming smile.

The girls go about their business, with little clue as to how obvious their glances between Kat and Lennox are. The whole charade is almost comical, and I settle myself by the counter and the nearby display of new season’s apples, to watch the proceedings. Clearly aware of something strange happening, Lennox finishes with his carrots and stows the empty box behind the counter, giving me a nervous smile as he steals a peek at Kat over his shoulder.

“The blonds are convinced you’re interested in their friend,” I say in a low voice.

Lennox’s eyes grow wide as they flick to me.

Trying not to laugh, I peruse the apples. “This is their ever-so-discreet attempt at covert observation.”

Watching me pick up an apple, he looks back to my face, not with surprise at my lack of hands, but with an expression that clearly asks if I’m part of their team. Smiling, I set the choicest apple I’ve found on the counter.

“I already know you like her, so I’ll just take the apple.”

“What’s not to like,” he mutters, putting the counter between us.

“Nothing, I guess. She seems really sweet. They come in often, as I understand. You know what they do with the fruit?”

Nodding once, Lennox looks at my apple. “Just this?”

“Please. Second half of my breakfast.”

Looking at his watch, Lennox raises an eyebrow.

“Woke up late,” I say with a grin, as I look to Alexa. She flashes me a sexy smile and then does something with her eyebrows that reminds me why we came. I turn back to Lennox to find him watching me.

“Just take it,” he says, nodding at the apple. “Between shopping for the homeless and feeding that dance troop of theirs, these girls are some of my best customers.”

“You know they... dance?” I ask, taking up the apple and biting into it. It tastes as good as I thought it would and I smile in thanks to the man.

“I’ve seen,” he says quietly, his eyes seeking out Kat again. Turning away when she notices him looking, Kat accidentally knocks a few oranges off their stand and drops to collect them. Her cheeks glow a bright red and she’s clearly flustered as more fall when she tries to replace them. Biting down on a smile, Lennox looks back to me.

“Excuse me.” As he heads over to help Kat, I make my way back to Alexa.

“Find out anything juicy?” she whispers.

“This apple is juicy. And crisp. With just a hint of sourness to accentuate the sweet. It’s the perfect apple. You want a bite?”

Glaring at me a while, her eyes move to the apple. Taking it from me, she takes a huge bite and fits it back between my stumps. Crunching as she stares at me, her pout turns into a smile.

“That is a good apple,” she agrees in a muffled voice, covering her mouth to keep from losing any apple chunks.

“Told ya.”

The bell above the door rings again and a woman with two kids enters the store. Selecting a small trolley, the woman goes about her shopping as the kids roam about the low aisles. The little boy comes to a stop in front of us.

“Where are your hands?” he asks, as children so often do.

“They fell off. It happens sometimes.”

Alexa quirks her eyebrows at me and I laugh.

“Not to everyone,” I add as the kid’s eyes grow round as saucers. “Just to me. And now I can’t remember where I left them. I’m trying to retrace my steps. If you find them in the store, will you let the nice man at the counter know?” I ask with a smile as I nod towards Lennox, who looks to be finished helping Kat with her orange situation, though he doesn’t have an entirely pleased expression on his face just now.

The boy just stares at me a while, but then he nods. “I’ll keep an eye out for them.”

“Thanks man.”

He moves away, looking under the fruit stands and in between the pumpkins. Alexa elbows me in the ribs.

“What? I’m not about to tell a five year old what happened to me. And look at him,” I say pointing over to where the kid has roped his little sister into the search. “He’s having a good time and letting his mom get the shopping done in peace. It’s win-win.”

“We’re going to wait outside,” Alexa calls over her shoulder as she takes my apple and drags me by the sleeve towards the door. Once outside, she keeps walking, still holding my sleeve. Looking around, I wonder where she’s taking me. Climbing a few steps, she turns quickly so I can’t follow her up. Grabbing my face, she surprises the hell out of me with a kiss.

She tastes of apple and ‘brown sugar cinnamon’ pop tarts. Sweet, sweet goodness. My no-hands are sparkling and I can’t breathe, because of what she is doing; what she has done. She wanted to kiss me.

Her lips start to pull away and I try to catch my breath as I stare at her, wondering what it means if we kiss when we’re in the ‘friend zone’, or if the ‘friend zone’ is only in my head, because, really, what is it we’re doing? I’m crazy about her. I want us to be together. She wants no labels, but labels mean nothing to me anyway. It’s all about how it feels.

“Sorry,” she whispers, straightening the collar of my jacket.

“You should be,” I whisper right back. “How dare you take advantage of me in the exact way I love to be taken advantage of.”

A snuffling laugh escapes her before her face turns serious. “I shouldn’t have done that. It blurs a line or something, I just... You make me... I wanted... It doesn’t mean...” Sighing, she drags a hand over her face. “I’m sorry.”

Watching her a while, I keep my face neutral as I swallow the pain of rejection and the urge to kiss her back. “Can I have my apple back now?” I ask with the hint of a joke in my voice, hopefully enough to mask any sound of my injured ego.

With a half-smile, she takes another bite before shoving the half eaten apple in my mouth and sitting on the steps. I lower myself to the step below her and we wait for Kat and Scar to appear without a word, just the sound of crunching apple.

When they finally arrive, they’re lugging some very full bags. Stopping in front of us, Scarlett shrugs off her backpack and begins redistributing the produce.

“See. He totally digs you,” she says, not looking up from her task. “The guy watches you like a hawk.”

“Yeah, because I practically trash his store every time I go there. He thinks I’m a total klutz. And he probably thinks my natural skin color is crimson. Besides, I’m not interested.”

“Could have fooled me,” Scar mutters.

“Scarlett’s right,” I say, standing up and stepping back down to the sidewalk. “The guy totally digs you. And he knows you’re not a klutz, because he’s seen you dance. I haven’t, but I presume you can dance well. Also, he loves it when you trash his store because it gives him an excuse to be close to you while he sets it to rights again.”

“He knows I’m a stripper?” Kat asks, as all three girls stare at me.

“Yes. Is it a secret you’re meant to be keeping?”

“From some people,” she says carefully, her eyes narrowing at me. “He barely speaks to me.”

“Mmm. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker,” I agree. “Barely says more than two words at a time. Is that important to you?”

“I don’t know,” Kat says, in a tone that suggests she’s about to pull her hair out. “It doesn’t matter,” she says, snatching up the bags that have been made lighter, and walking away.

“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, looking to Alexa. She shakes her head.

“We should go. Good luck on your rounds, Scar. Hope everyone is well,” Alexa says as her eyes follow Kat.

“Me too,” Scar says, shrugging back into her laden backpack and collecting the other bags with strong arms. “You two have fun. And don’t worry about Kat,” she says to me. “She just needs some more time.” Frowning, she mutters something about ‘hopefully not too much more time’ under her breath as she heads after her friend.

“Are you sure I didn’t say something wrong?”

“Kat just isn’t used to thinking about herself, so she doesn’t really know what she wants. It’s complicated. Don’t worry about it. You did good. Did you just ask him if he liked her?”

“One look between them told me everything I needed to know.”

“Just one look, huh?”

“Yup,” I answer, purposely not looking at her and giving myself away with ‘just one look’. “You want to drop off those boxes before we swing by my place? Or after?” I ask as I start walking back to Beyond.

“Your place?” she asks, jumping lightly from the steps to join me.

“To pick up the key to the storage unit,” I say casually, hoping I haven’t scared her off. “You can just wait in the car if you like, but you’d be welcome to come in.”

“I think before.”

“Huh?”

“We should drop the boxes before.”

“Okay. Good. That way I’ll know where we’re meant to be going.”

“The garage sale is more of a parking lot sale really. It’s a collaborative effort between The Mission, the Sallies and the Homeless Alliance, and the collection area is the Pearl Street side between the latter two. The Sallies have a storage space attached to their building.”

“Perfect. My gear is in City Storage on Main Street,” I say as we arrive back at Beyond. Waiting for her to open the door, I glance at my car down the street. “You’re not going to freak out about me driving are you?”

“Why would I?” she asks, giving me a strange look as she punches in the code for the second door.

“Some people like their driver’s to have hands is all.”

“I’m ‘some people’ now?” she asks with a cute smile. “Gee, thanks Damon.” Sweeping loose hair behind her ear, she looks up the stairs and whistles. “Well I don’t know how we’re going to get this stuff from A to B if you don’t drive us, because Benji’s at his workshop and I don’t even have a license.”

“You don’t?”

Shrugging, she kicks a door stop into place under the internal door to keep it open and starts up the stairs. “Never had a car, or a teacher, or a need to learn.”

“What about your dad?” I ask, following her up. “Mine taught me. Yours didn’t drive?”

“He used to,” she says absently. “But by the time I was old enough to learn, he didn’t. Hold out your arms and I’ll load you up.”

Doing as I’m told, I wait for her to fill my arms with boxes. “One more,” I say as she’s about to send me down. “It’ll make for one less trip.”

“You sure you can handle it?” she says, eying my load. “I don’t want you to fall down the stairs because you can’t see.”

“I’m sure-footed. And you’ll be guiding me anyway, because you have to open the door to the street.”

Sighing, she takes another box, climbs onto the couch and sets it on top of my armful. Taking another carton, she calls me over to the stairs.

“If you fall and die, I’ll kill you.”

“Don’t make me laugh or I’ll drop everything.”

“I just want you to know that I’m very uncomfortable with this arrangement and would have preferred to just make an extra trip.”

“Noted.” Feeling out in front of me with one foot, I find the edge of the first step. “Are you in front still, or behind?” I ask, not able to see her anymore.

“I’m already at the bottom,” she calls up. “Please just be careful.”

Smiling to myself, I descend the stairs as surely as if I could see. “You don’t want to see me hurt? I’m touched.”

“Shut up.”

“No really. It warms my heart,” I add as I make my way through the door she’s holding open to the street. “Right down in the cockles.”

“I’ll warm your cockles with my foot in a minute,” she warns in a joking tone, making me laugh. “Are your keys in your bag?”

“Yeah,” I reply, wishing I’d thought to put them in my pocket so she’d have to get up close and personal to fish them out.

“I totally thought you’d have kept them closer to your cockles so I’d have to feel you up,” Alexa says, making me wonder if maybe she really can read my mind. Laughing as she rummages in my bag, I hear the car unlock and then the trunk open. When she removes a box and her face comes into view, I catch the glint of mischief in her eye.

“Unlike some people, I would never think of such things,” I say, barely able to keep a straight face.

“Mmhmm.” Holding the box, she smiles knowingly and takes it around to the trunk. Able to see clearly now, I follow with the rest of my load and arrange it so there’s still room for the rest. Alexa leans against the car, watching me.

“This is a really nice car.”

“Thanks.”

“It does have a really big trunk.”

“I need a lot of space for my gear,” I reply, distracted by her ass as she reaches in to push one of the boxes further back. Standing back up, she catches me looking and blushes slightly.

“What kind of gear?”

“Just stuff. Mainly hobby related. You know, skis, my painting seat, the odd canvas or unicycle.”

“Painting seat?”

“It’s like a collapsing recliner, so I can lean back and paint with my feet.”

Alexa’s eyes travel my body from head to toe, and then half way back up. “Is that why your abs are so defined? Painting?”

“It definitely helps, I suppose.” My cheeks warm under her attention. I’m not sure she’d appreciate me towing her towards a stoop and surprise-kissing her, so I need to get off my current train of thought. Clearing my throat, I take a step back and close the trunk. “We should get the other stuff and get going.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, turning quickly back towards the club.