wait until Sunday

Joan's weekend with Marc was a whirlwind of grappling in bed, learning to play Monsters of the Duel, posing for sketches, making messes in the kitchen, sending nudes to her other guys, and walking in the sun. He kept her on her toes, breathlessly yet wholly alive. She slept reluctantly but efficiently, her attention focused on the hardness of his body and the strength of his pulse.

After Joan finished her Sunday morning shower, she wore her towel into the bedroom. She looked at Marc as she dropped it, and he was drawn to her like a magnet. Their lips melded as his hands slid over her bare hips. Still holding her, Marc teased, "We're never gonna leave."

As inviting as the prospect sounded, Joan's stomach screamed for the breakfast with friends Marc had promised her. She drew away and dressed quickly, donning the cargo pants and rugged hiking boots she'd planned on for a comfortable journey home.

Marc eyed Joan. "You plan to show up in Seto Kaiba's bedroom like that?"

"Feces! I totally forgot about that. Can I use your washing machine?"

"No need for that. I'll buy you a dress after breakfast. I have one condition, though."

"Oh?"

"Whatever you're wearing the next time I see you, I get to rip it off."

Joan cocked her head, going through her mental closet for an outfit she'd be willing to part with. "Deal." Joan stuffed her dirty clothes into her backpack and they headed out the door.

They walked several blocks arm-in-arm to a café famous for its apple fritters. Five hipsters stood in front of it. Marc walked up to them and introduced Joan to a vegan, a professional cosplayer, an aspiring author, a vlogger, and one of his art students. They were about Joan's age, twenty five, not Marc's forty four. Still, Joan felt awkward around so many strangers who already had close-knit ties between them. She put on a fake smile and pressed her business card into the aspiring author's hand but otherwise let Marc do the talking. Marc bragged about how he met Joan on OKCupid and then proceeded to recount some of his worst dates for comparison. Joan slipped into the role of arm candy, laughing at the right moments and only speaking if a question was directed at her.

Although breakfast was delicious, Joan felt relieved to get away from the table of strangers and stroll through the shopping district with Marc. "You're going to need something that makes you feel unstoppable tonight," Marc said.

Joan pressed her cheek to Marc's bicep. "You are my unstoppable."

"I'm not going to be there. I mean you'll need a dress that makes you feel like a sex goddess."

Several items in store windows caught Joan's eye, but Marc kept guiding her past the shops until they reached the most hoity-toity store in town sporting tuxedos and evening gowns in the window. They spotted the cocktail dress section and walked amongst the racks. Marc shook his head at everything until he pulled out a red halter with a neckline that plunged to the waist.

"Seriously?" Joan said. "I don't have a bra for that at home, much less with me."

"What kind of whore wears a bra?" Marc teased. "Come on, at least let me see you try it on."

Joan sighed and took it to the fitting room, earning a hard stare from the attendant on her way in. She pulled off her hiking boots and cargo pants, then her T-shirt and bra. She then carefully arranged the flimsy fabric of the dress, pulling it up and down in an endless dilemma between covering her nipples or her panties.

"Can I see?" Marc called.

"This isn't going to work. I'm too tall for it," Joan replied.

"Just let me see!"

Joan adjusted the fabric one more time and opened the door. She hunched her back until Marc said, "Stand up straight." She did so and her green polka dot panties popped into view. "OK, yeah, you have a point."

"What is the occasion, if I may ask," the attendant butted in.

"That's classified," Marc said with a saucy wink.

"I see. May I suggest the costume shop on Bargain Boulevard?"

"Oh isn't that cute?" Marc said to Joan. "He thinks he makes more in a month than you make in a day."

"Yeah sure, whatever," Joan said. She knew it was an exaggeration but decided not to contradict him. "I'm getting out of this thing." She shut the door.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the store," the attendant said.