"Do you think she was hot?"
"Huh?" Gil responded, hearing the question clearly but wanting to do anything other than answer honestly.
"That woman in the yoga pants was really attractive, don't you think?" Heather pressed.
"Yeah, I guess so," he said sheepishly. They had made a quick trip to Trader Joe's for road trip provisions and had crossed paths with a woman in a sports bra and leggings several times while they were shopping. Now they sat in his Escalade waiting for the gordian knot of traffic that was every Trader Joe's cursed parking lot to clear before officially beginning their trip north.
"Come on, Gil," Heather grinned. "She was tall, thin, nice butt, thigh gap, kinda flat but fit, cute face, messy hair like she's fresh from the gym but probably not. I caught you looking. She was hot."
"What do you want me to say?" Gil felt a curious urge to explain but worried that Heather might change her mind about him. It was a familiar feeling, that he would say or do something that would end their short, life-changing affair. When they were together self-doubt gnawed at him, but none of the things he feared had yet come to pass. Even now, Heather's face was cheery, her eyes bright. "Yeah, she was hot."
"Do you ever compliment a girl you find attractive? Besides me, I mean."
"In public? God no."
"Why not?"
Gil blew an exasperated raspberry. Where to even begin. His own personal philosophy was the Golden Rule: he didn't want to be bothered in public while going about his day, so he went out of his way to be invisible to others unless absolutely necessary. If he was honest with himself, though, he dreaded the idea of a compliment being met with hostility. It didn't stop him from looking, but he would limit it to a glance or two to avoid being caught gawking. "I think it would be rude."
Heather guffawed. "You're cute, and also very, very silly." She smiled and laughed more freely around him when they were alone then she ever did around others, and her joy made his heart ache and his cock stir every time.
"I mean, if you didn't know me, how would you like it if I told you in the middle of TJ's frozen food isle that I found you attractive?"
Heather fell silent for a moment before admitting defeat. "I don't know. Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time strange man said anything other than 'excuse me' to me in public."
Gil peered into the backup camera screen before craning his head around. Traffic had cleared for a solid ten seconds, so he dropped into reverse and started to edge backwards. A couple of nearby pedestrians even stopped to let him out. Glorious freedom!
They had left too late to avoid traffic, so it was a slog to get to the freeway, but once they were on it, Gil relaxed at the same time Heather sighed.
"We're on our way, kiddo. How does it feel?"
"Feels great Mr. G!" Heather chirped before leaning across the center console to plant a kiss on his cheek.
-
The GPS had shown some slow spots on the 101 going north before they headed out, but nothing like what they had been stuck in for the last fifteen minutes. After some idle chatter, Heather brought up the attractive shopper again.
"I see you looking sometimes, you know."
"Am I that obvious?"
"No, not really. You're pretty good at making it seem casual. Don't worry, I'm not jealous or hurt."
Traffic moved about a foot, giving Gil a chance to think about his response. When it stopped again, he looked over at Heather, helpless to stop the twinge of doubt from returning.
He also couldn't help feeling like a hypocrite. The weekend before, while they were shacked up at the Hilton near his home and busy alternating between having sex and making their trip plans, they had also spent a lot of time fantasizing about all the sexy stuff they could do during their trip up to Santa Barbara. She'd even bounced out of her front door that morning wearing the same lovely sundress that she wore when she first propositioned him and said, "I'm wearing this for easy access," to dispel any doubt as to why she'd chosen it.
"I love you," was all he could come up with.
Heather laughed again. "I love you too, Gil. Seriously, though, I kinda want to know."
"What's that?"
"What's it like to be a guy?"
"Oh," Gil answered sarcastically. "Is that all?"
"Yeah, for real, though. I mean, you know I consider you my first serious relationship. The boys I dated before were just that."
"I'm still a boy, in a lot of ways."
"You don't fuck like one," Heather said devilishly.
"I know," Gil answered, with a smile. Traffic seemed like it was starting to free up, only to stop again a mile later. "You really want to know."
"Yes. What is it like to be a guy?"
"I assume you want to know about the sexy parts, right?" Heather nodded and licked her lips. "So, I don't care much for summer except for one thing."
"I think I know why."
"You probably know I have a thing for naked ladies," Gil began. It was an oft-told joke he stole from an Onion article with the headline 'Area Man Has Naked-Lady Fetish' that lived rent free in his head for the last couple of decades.
"I've been meaning have a talk with you about that," Heather teased.
"Yeah, well, summer is when boobies and tummies and legs come out to play. I know it's just women wearing what's comfortable, not intending to be sexy, but it really is the best part about living in LA."
"So, when you're walking around you are just checking out everyone's goods?"
"Don't you?"
"Yeah, I suppose so, but I'm not, like, thinking I'll have sex with them."
"Me neither."
"Now that kinda surprises me."
"How so?
"Don't men, like, think about sex like every seven seconds or something?"
"God no! How on earth would anything ever get done, ever?"
"So, you don't? Not even around me?"
"Heather, it's all I'm thinking about when we're together," Gil said, trying to sound alluring. Heather laughed again. "Actually, when I first heard that urban legend, I wondered what the hell was wrong with me."
"Are you thinking about sex now?" Heather asked.