Jackie opened the door for Alexander and saw a cab drive away down the street.
"Evening," he said.
Jackie stepped back, letting him in.
"I haven't realised you were taking a cab. Let me pay you back!" She looked him over. "Oh that's... a lot!" she exclaimed at the view of a massive box of litter and two sizeable totes that he carried in. "Oh, and you bought him food! You really shouldn't have! And is that a toy?! He doesn't seem to enjoy any of the ones that Euphemia dropped off. I wonder if he just doesn't like the stuff from his old home. Because he did play with a piece of paper that I tied to a string earlier. And I completely forgot that you had a game today! It's Saturday! And then there was all that noise outside. I could've just gone to Abernathy myself!"
He carefully put his cargo down - and sighed a long, deep sigh.
"Oh." Jackie clasped her hand over her mouth. "I'm doing it again, innit?"
He gave her a side glance, the same way large dogs do when they suss out that you're going outside without them.
"Alright, one step at a time. Firstly, thank you," Jackie said earnestly. "Would you like a cuppa?"
"Yes, please," he answered with obvious relief in his voice. "I'll go wash my hands first. There were puppies in the shop, and they let you hold a guinea pig. I petted several cats too."
He left down the corridor, and that's when the snort she'd been holding back, finally escaped. He'd sounded so proud!
She put away the kibble and the treats that he'd brought, took out the toys, and then gathered the handle of the litter box.
"Blimey," she exhaled.
"Let me carry it," he said, approaching her. "It's heavy."
"It's not just 'heavy!'" she yelped. "I'm no dainty fairy, but I can't even shift it!"
He gave her an unreadable stare - and then picked the package up. If his biceps, deltoid, and his highly prominent brachioradialis hadn't just bulged under the sleeve of his black jumper; she'd doubt the two of them had been dealing with the same box.
"Where do you want it?" he asked.
"In the closet with the washer."
He headed that way, and she hurriedly squatted in front of the totes. She'd just imagined running her palms down his arms, from his wide shoulder, to his wrists! It must have been something hormonal, she told herself. Maybe that was already one of those hot flushes her GP had been threatening her with. Wasn't her libido supposed to decrease at her age?!
"Those are presents," he said above her, and she jumped up, startled.
"Pardon?"
"The toys and the treats," he said. "You can pay me back for the litter and the food, but you hadn't asked for the rest. They are from me."
"And the cab," Jackie said stubbornly, rising.
A knitted ball with a fluffy tail attached to it, jingled in her hand.
"No, thank you," he answered levelly. "I was taking it anyway. I can't drive." Jackie was going to argue, but he spoke first, "So, where is he?"
"The cat?" she asked, and he nodded.
Jackie squinted and studied his face. She could be wrong - but wasn't there something unusually lively about his expression?
"Is that why you're here?" she asked and stepped closer to him, peering into his eyes. "You want to see the cat! You really, really want to see it! Do you like cats?"
The way he sort of drew back from her reminded her of the way the cat had, when Jackie had first tried to touch it.
"I like all animals," he grumbled.
Jackie almost gasped: there were faint blush stains on his cheekbones!
"He's in the second bedroom," she said, taking pity on the man. "He runs there every time there's a loud noise. It's going to be my study, but for now there are still boxes there. You'll have to excuse the mess. Considering what your office looks like, you probably never have that much clutter. It's just that I've got so many books that–"
She would've continued mumbling and apologising; but he threw such a wistful look towards the stairs, that she thought that he might not even notice the farrago in the room.
"Come," she said softly. "Let me introduce you to your new lodger."
***
"I reckon, he's not coming out," Jackie said and impulsively patted Alexander's upper arm. "But he's here. Let me try something." She bent down and peeked under her bureau. "Cheetie-cheetie-cheetie!"
The cat's usual 'broop' came from the opposite corner of the room.
"Oh I guess he's under the settee now," Jackie laughed. "I'm not sure how he fits. He's rather... orbiculate."
Alexander dropped his backside on the floor, at a considerate distance from the sofa, and then tilted on one side, supporting himself on his hand. His torso was almost parallel to the ground; and Jackie ordered herself to cease her inappropriate leering and admiration for his flexibility. His jumper hiking up on his side needed to be ignored as well.
"Tartufo," he murmured.
"Pardon?" Jackie crouched next to him.
"It's a pudding," he said. "From Pizzo Calabro. It's like a–" He searched for a word. His eyes were intent on the animal hiding in the dark. "Like a truffle. A scoop of vanilla gelato, with a ball of– con un cuore di cioccolato amaro fuso." He distractedly drew a circle in the air with his index finger. "It can be gelato alla nocciola too, but– But it looks like this, when you cut it in half. Like an annulus. Because it's–"
Jackie watched his lips move, but he clearly was unable to focus to form a proper sentence - in English, at least.
"And around it– Ricoperto da una spolverata di cacao amaro." Italian poured out of him. Jackie felt rather tickled - and then his eyebrows jumped up, and he breathed out, "Oh, he moved!"
That was Jackie's undoing. She burst into unrestrained laughter, and soon her eyes were starting to water. Alexander frowned, but immediately forgot about her, going back to his "cat gazing."
"That settles it then," Jackie said, sitting down more comfortably and stretching her legs in front of her. "Tartufo it is."
He whipped his head and stared at her. Jackie chuckled.
"You've just named my cat," she announced.
His lips parted softly. An alarm blared in Jackie's mind, set off by the fluttering in her chest and the thought of how easy it would be to shift closer to him and to taste said lips. She realised that her body had just rocked towards him without her will - and she remembered his hands grasping and squeezing her. She turned away and pretended to peruse the newly christened Tartufo. There wasn't much to peruse, if she were honest. All they were presented with was his spheroid posterior.
"So, should we have tea?" Jackie asked in an unnaturally cheery tone.
"Jackie."
"Yeah?" She still couldn't face him.
"I said I'd stay away," he said. "But I miss you. What do I need to do for you to give me a chance?"
Jackie winced away from him. His eyes were even darker than usual.
"What– But– That's not how–"
"Sorry," he muttered and sharply got up. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked this."
He took a step towards the door - and she sprung after him, along the floor, and grabbed the bottom of his trouser leg.
"Alexander!" She caught a glimpse of his cheeks, this time flushed even more obviously. "Please wait!" she cried out.
"Why?" he asked darkly. "All I do is bother you."
"You aren't! You don't bother me! It's me! My fault– I feel horrible for always–" She couldn't quite put her sentiment into words. "It's like I'm taking advantage of you. You always help me, and I shouldn't string you along, but–"
He glowered down at her. She let her of his jeans.
"Sorry!" It was her turn to apologise, it seemed. "I just didn't want you to leave like this. I'm sorry! You've done all this for me, and brought the litter, and–"
A low coarse noise reverberated in his throat - and he went down on one knee and cupped her face, just like in the morning after he'd spent the night.
"You drive me insane," he snarled. His lips twisted, in a pained grimace, his teeth bared. His hands were normally warm; but at the moment, it felt as if he was going to combust. "You are driving me insane. Right now," he amended. "I don't want you to thank me. Or owe me a favour. I'm not doing any of it out of politeness. I want to do these things for you." Another growl-like exhale trembled on his lips. "I don't need anything in return. Just take me seriously, would you?"
Jackie couldn't take a breath.
"I want you," he stated. "I told you already, it's not a crush or one-off. I want to fuck you. All the time. Tell me to sod off if I'm overstepping or making you uncomfortable. You won't hurt my feelings. But I need to know when I'm in the wrong."
Jackie was starting to shake.
"Thank you for letting me see your cat," he added after a measured, calming exhale. "It was fun."
Jackie weakly whined.
"What is it?" he asked - and she lunged forward and threw her arms around his neck.
He jolted, and she tightened her grip on him.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"Of me?"
"That you'll be... disappointed." Once she said it, she could see how true it was. Something hurt between her ribs, on the right side, under the scar. "I don't understand why you'd even want–"
She choked on her words and moaned, because he'd just pushed his hand up her shirt on her back.
"Jackie," he called. All she could manage was to pant and squeeze her eyes. "Jackie? Yes or no?"
She pushed her nose into his neck and shuddered.
"Jackie." He tenderly kissed her temple, then again, then her ear. "Jackie..."
He stroked her shoulder blade with his thumb, and she moaned again. She'd never felt like this raw, sensitive, exposed.
"Jackie, you have to–"
She nodded, interrupting him; and she hooked her fingers on the collar of his jumper on his neck, making him jerk.
He probably read the movements of her lips rather than hearing her.
"Yes..."