There Is A Difference Between Privacy And Secrecy

Not wanting to be caught. Not able to stop. Fully realizing that if I didn't do something one or the other would happen sooner or later and fully knowing, with just a glance into his eyes, that my partner in crime wasn't going to be the one to make a first move here.

So I did.

All it took was unwrapping myself from around him and wriggling. Teasing my way down his body as I shimmied on my back until I was moving through his legs and sliding down and out.

And it was easy to do precisely because of the difference between us. Because Jake was big and I was small and slight enough to slip between his gaps.

To slide down and get my feet underneath me and back up until I was kneeling right in front of the little overhang of countertop at the front of the booth.

And it all happened so fast that Jake only really registered it when I was already in place.

Jake moved, turning to glance at me and slowly shifting around. He raised an eyebrow and I spoke quiet, calm, and confident.

"The way I see it, it was only a matter of time until we were caught. And I mean you're hot and handsome and look like you'd be a whole lot of fun, but I don't fancy that kind of reputation.

"Not that there is anything wrong with that kind of reputation. Not that there is anything wrong with being that kind of girl or doing those kind of things. In fact I have every intention of being that kind of woman, but I just don't want to be known for being that kind of woman. You know?"

He nodded slowly, the wheels turning as he watched his chances with me melt away.

"Well I'm not opposed to taking our time. Hell, Emily, I know a great little italian restaurant in town that-"

I held up a hand to stop him before he asked me out and made this way more of a thing than he needed.

"You misunderstand me. I'm not saying that I don't want to put my hand down your pants here. What I'm saying is I don't want to be caught with my hand down your pants here.

"I mean you seem nice and maybe dating is in the cards, but this is literally day two of my time on campus and I'm not keen to get tied down to some guy just because he's handsome and has a nice body.

"I just think that we should have fun."

"In privacy," he finishes for me.

"In secrecy," I correct him.

It's quiet, for a moment. It's the two of us kneeling and the world moving around us. It's the sound of muffled talk in the distance, the strains of music from another booth, the scribble of pencil on paper from the girl next door and the humming of tunes coming from the stoner in the other booth.

It's the world moving on and us in the midst of it and the thrill of anticipation before the thrill of even more.

And it's me, smiling broader.

And it's him, completely unsure of what exactly I'm proposing.

At least until I move back, sliding beneath the overhang of the counter behind me and reach out, curling my finger in a come hither motion while my eyes give the same impression.

And it's realization dawning on him as he gets to his feet and steps forward. As he closes the space between us.

As he locks me beneath the countertop and gives me one last glance before he looks away.

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