My next few days at the grill went okay. Trevor and I mostly worked different shifts -- I was mostly in at mornings and he at evenings, he'd come in early on that first day to help me. Whenever we did see each other I did my best to act normal but found it hard going -- I just couldn't help thinking about that night.
I ran into Jamie in the hallway once or twice, too, but either one of us were always in a hurry so barely did more than wave and smile. Until the weekend, that is.
I was at home, returned from work and freshly showered when there was a knock at my door. I opened it to Jamie who was all energy and smiles. She produced a bottle of wine from behind her back and beamed at me:
"Howdy neighbor!" in a mock, southern drawl, as if I was from Texas rather than literally fifty miles further south than right here. "I remembered you telling me about your job -- wanna cork open a bottle and tell me all about your first week?" Her energy was so damn infectious it was hard to say no, and for all the awkwardness I felt, given what I knew about her and she didn't know I knew there was a part of me that was lonely and really wanted to keep building a friendship with her. I said yes, but then kind of pathetically glanced behind me at by apartment: I had a fold-out kitchen table with two old chairs from my parent's house. I didn't even wine glasses. Jamie didn't even wait for me to say anything, she just waved me on.
"Come on over, you'll host when you're more settled, yeah?" I smiled and we went into her apartment.
Her apartment was very, very nice. It seemed an exact duplicate of mine, as I'd expected, but was lovingly, if a little sparsely decorated (though hardly compared to my own place at the time). Her dining room-cum kitchen had a small, round mahogany table; the kitchen space itself was pretty small, just like mine, but I saw a big assortment of spices and herbs.
As I took it all in Jamie quickly fished out two wine glasses and urged me further in to one of the two bedrooms. The door to the bigger one -- the one wall-to-wall with mine -- was partially opened and I carefully glanced it, but didn't see much. She had a beautiful leather sofa in front of a glass table but no TV. The table had candles and oil diffusers on it which spread a lovely, fresh flower scent throughout the room. A thick, lush carpet covered most of the floor. We both lived in small apartments but she'd made the most of it and I definitely felt a little jealous: My first paycheck had come in and I'd started to have my first, niggling fears about how I was going to be able to afford rent unless I got more hours at the grill.
Jamie poured me a glass and demanded I tell her everything about my new job and my first week. She wore a simple white blouse and jeans -- elegant, but casual. I felt a little awkard; my own shirt was hidden under a sweater vest but as we both sat next to each other I became acutely aware of my belly and how hers barely showed. The reason I usually wore something over a blouse like that was to not show off the way the buttons and the placket stretched when I sat down. Unconsciously I pushed my knees together as I took a sip and started telling her about Bart's Grill. Almost immediately she brightened up:
"Oh wait, is it Bart's Grill you work at? I have a friend who works there, Trevor, have you met him?" I took another, longer sip of wine to buy time as I again fought off thinking about her and Trevor too much.
"Mhm, yup -- he showed me how to work the grill. He seems nice."
"Yeah, Trevor's a real nice guy, lots of fun, too. We should go out for drinks together some time." My head swam but I said something non-committing. We kept chatting about work a little and had more wine until my head was starting to swim a little more from the wine than anything else. I was relaxing a little more and Jamie seemed a little buzzed, too.
She asked me more about my home; my family. I told her about my parents and my brothers, and she probed me for details. Did I grow up on a farm? No, I told her, just a house. Although my grandparents had a farm nearby. What was it like growing up with so many siblings? Being an only child having six brothers seemed to her like it would have been nice but also a bit of a nightmare. It had its moments, I told her, but was quick to point out I loved my brothers and they were very protective of me. Without too many details I told her how Jim and Simon, my two older brothers, had offered to beat up Mark for breaking up with me but I'd told them off for it: It really wasn't like Mark broke my heart.
"Sweet of them, though."
"I like I said, they're very protective of me." I smiled.
"Well, they had the right idea, I'm sure; I don't know Mark, but he's obviously a loser to let someone like you go." I blushed quite a lot and tried to brush her off, but she insisted: "Oh don't be modest! You're a real catch, and I'm sure in no time you'll be fending off the locals with a stick." she said, before adding with a wink; "Or giving them a spin, if you prefer of course." My cheeks burned bright red and I felt my thighs growing warm. Jamie emptied her glass and sadly noted we'd emptied the bottle (she'd done a bit more of the work than me). Lightweight as I was, I already felt buzzy and was a little scared of doing or saying something stupid.
Mercifully, Jamie told me she might be going out later and I said I was a bit too tired to go out this late (it was barely eight -- god I was such a wuss then). But I told her I really appreciated her inviting me over like this (which was true) and she reached in for a hug and told me she knew what it was like to be new in town. Then she got up as if on a mission and told me to come along. I rose a little unsteadily and followed her to her bedroom. By the time I turned the corner she was rooting through their closet and I found myself staring at her bedroom.
Her bed wasn't huge, only a little bigger than mine and only just big enough for two, but she had a little makeup table next to the closet, facing the bed, and draped over the head of the bed was a beautiful drapery of string lights which cast a soft glow over the entire bedroom. Both our bedrooms had windows facing a nearby street but she'd covered it in a full-length tapestry which gave the whole room a soft, cozy feeling. The head of her bed was against the wall adjacent to my apartment, and in that moment I couldn't help but imagine the scene I'd listened in to the week before:
I imagined Trevor lying down on the bed, his rigid cock up in the air, and as I watched Jamie still searching her closet I imagined her climbing onto the bed and up Trevor's legs and wrapping her lips around his member. I saw in my mind's eye her pausing for breath and telling him his cock was so big it only barely fit in her mouth.
Wait, if he was lying down, how did he bang the wall so hard?
