Nothing Left to Hide Pt. 6

At six forty-three, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror trying to figure out why clothes suddenly seemed so complicated.

I'd changed shirts three times.

That was ridiculous.

For most of the previous two weeks, my biggest wardrobe decision had been whether Human Resources required my dick to be inside a drawstring pouch. Now I was wearing dark jeans and a blue button-down and wondering whether the sleeves looked better rolled once or twice.

Twice looked like I was trying too hard.

Once looked accidental.

I rolled them once.

Then twice.

Then back to once.

"Jesus Christ."

"You look fine."

I turned.

Megan was leaning against the bathroom doorway.

Naked.

Of course.

Her blonde hair was still slightly damp from her shower, hanging loosely around her shoulders. She'd apparently decided clothes were unnecessary for supervising my date preparation.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to watch you lose an argument with your sleeves."

"I'm nervous."

"I know."

She looked me over.

That felt different now.

Everything did.

A few hours earlier, we'd crossed a line neither of us could uncross. Now she was standing in the doorway studying me while I got dressed to take another woman to dinner.

There was no handbook for this.

"Blue is good," she said.

"You think?"

"Yeah."

"Jeans?"

"Good."

"Shoes?"

She looked down.

"Those."

"Really?"

"Blake."

"What?"

"She's already seen your penis. I don't think the shoes are going to make or break this."

I stared at her.

Megan smiled.

"Helpful?"

"Immensely."

"Good."

I turned back toward the mirror.

She remained in the doorway.

I could feel her there.

Finally I looked at her reflection.

"You okay?"

"Nope."

I turned.

At least she was honest.

She shrugged.

"I'm trying."

"You don't have to pretend."

"I'm not pretending."

She walked toward me.

"I want you to go."

"Okay."

"I also don't want you to go."

"Okay."

"And those two things apparently get to live in my head at the same time."

"Apparently."

She stopped in front of me.

For a moment I thought she might kiss me.

She didn't.

Instead she straightened my collar.

"Don't be an asshole."

"That's the advice?"

"That's the advice."

"I'll do my best."

"And don't compare us."

That caught me.

"I won't."

"I mean it."

"I know."

She looked down at my shirt as she smoothed the collar.

"I'm already doing enough of that for both of us."

I caught her hand.

"Megan."

She looked up.

"You're not competing."

"Aren't I?"

"No."

Her expression said she didn't entirely believe me.

Honestly, I wasn't sure I entirely believed myself.

But I knew I didn't want this becoming some contest where one woman had to lose for the other to matter.

I squeezed her hand.

"I'll be back."

"I know."

Then she smiled.

"And if the date sucks, don't lie about that either."

I laughed.

"Deal."

"If it's amazing..."

She hesitated.

"Don't lie about that."

That was harder.

"Deal."

She stepped aside.

I walked toward the bedroom door.

"Blake?"

I turned.

Megan stood there completely naked, arms folded loosely beneath her breasts.

"Yeah?"

"Have fun."

I smiled.

"Thanks."

I made it halfway down the hallway.

"And not too much fun!"

I laughed.

There was Megan.

---

Kelly lived about fifteen minutes away.

I spent thirteen of them thinking about Megan.

That seemed unfair to Kelly.

So for the remaining two minutes I tried very hard not to think about Megan.

Naturally, I thought about Megan even more.

Her in bed.

Her kissing me.

Her telling me to go.

Her saying *don't compare us.*

By the time I pulled up outside Kelly's place, I felt like I was carrying contraband.

I texted her.

**Here.**

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

**Coming.**

I got out of the car.

Then Kelly opened the door.

And for a second I genuinely didn't recognize her.

Not because she looked dramatically different.

Because she was dressed.

She wore a simple black dress that ended above her knees, nothing elaborate, with a light jacket over it. Her long brown hair was down, and the porch light caught the auburn hidden inside it.

She stopped when she saw me.

I stopped when I saw her.

Then we both started laughing.

"This is weird," she said.

"Extremely."

She walked toward me.

"You're wearing pants."

"So are you."

She looked down at herself.

"Technically this is a dress."

"You know what I mean."

She stopped in front of me.

Her brown eyes moved over me.

"You clean up pretty well."

"Thank you."

"Although..."

"What?"

She glanced toward my waist.

I immediately knew.

"Don't."

"No pouch?"

"Kelly."

She grinned.

"I had to check."

"You absolutely did not."

"I absolutely did."

I opened the passenger door.

She looked at it.

Then at me.

"Look at you."

"What?"

"Opening doors."

"I'm trying to establish that I was raised properly."

"Bit late after Friday."

"Get in the car."

She laughed and climbed inside.

---

We went somewhere deliberately ordinary.

That had been my decision.

Not some trendy place.

Not somewhere loud.

A small Italian restaurant with actual tablecloths and low lighting where nobody knew us and, more importantly, nobody knew what either of us looked like naked.

That felt almost luxurious.

The hostess seated us.

Kelly sat across from me.

We looked at each other.

Then down at the menus.

Then back at each other.

"This is so weird," she said.

"You keep saying that."

"Because you're wearing a shirt."

"You've seen me wearing clothes."

"Not since..."

"Nude Day?"

"Yeah."

I smiled.

"You're wearing more clothes than I've ever seen you wear."

"That's not true."

"It might be."

She thought about it.

"Oh my God. It might be."

We both laughed.

And just like that, some of the pressure disappeared.

The waiter came.

We ordered drinks.

Bread appeared.

For a few minutes we talked about work.

Safe territory.

HR.

The revised policy.

The absurdity of her thong.

My pouch.

Darren.

Then the conversation wandered.

Where she'd grown up.

Where I'd grown up.

Families.

Bad jobs.

Music.

Movies.

Things neither of us knew about the other because workplace conversations rarely reached them.

And something happened that I hadn't expected.

I forgot Kelly was the woman who'd walked naked into work.

She became Kelly.

Funny.

Sharp.

A little insecure beneath all the confidence.

She talked with her hands when she got excited. She tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking. When she laughed hard, her nose wrinkled slightly.

I liked that.

That worried me.

Because I'd hoped, somewhere in the selfish part of my brain, that the date might clarify things.

Maybe Kelly would be attractive but boring.

Maybe we'd discover that naked workplace chemistry didn't survive clothing and pasta.

Maybe I'd go home to Megan with an easy answer.

Instead I liked Kelly more.

Fantastic.

"You disappeared."

I blinked.

"What?"

Kelly was watching me.

"You went somewhere."

"Sorry."

"Where?"

"Nowhere."

She smiled.

"That's bullshit."

I picked up my drink.

"Thinking."

"About?"

I should have told her then.

I knew that.

Instead I said:

"Everything."

Kelly studied me.

"Megan?"

Fuck.

I put the glass down.

"Partly."

She nodded.

No anger.

No drama.

Just understanding.

"Something's happening there."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

Kelly tore a piece of bread.

"I figured."

"How?"

"The way you say her name."

That was annoyingly perceptive.

"How do I say her name?"

"Like she's already part of the sentence before you say it."

I stared at her.

"What the hell does that mean?"

She laughed.

"I don't know. It sounded smarter in my head."

"No, unfortunately I think I understand."

Her smile faded slightly.

"Did something happen?"

There it was.

I could lie.

Megan had specifically told me not to.

And Kelly deserved better anyway.

"Yes."

Kelly's fingers stopped moving.

"Today?"

"Yeah."

She nodded once.

"Okay."

I waited.

She looked at me.

"You're going to make me ask?"

"No."

I took a breath.

"Megan and I crossed a line today."

Kelly understood.

I saw it immediately.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Her eyes dropped toward the table.

For the first time all evening, silence felt uncomfortable.

"Do you regret coming tonight?" she asked.

"No."

That answer came immediately.

She looked up.

"No?"

"No."

"Do you regret what happened with Megan?"

"No."

Another immediate answer.

Kelly leaned back.

"Well."

"Yeah."

"That's..."

"Complicated?"

"Very."

I smiled.

She didn't.

So I stopped.

"Kelly, I should've told you sooner."

"Probably."

"I'm sorry."

She looked at me for several seconds.

"Did you ask me out before or after?"

"Before."

"Did you know it was going to happen?"

"No."

"Did she?"

"I don't think so."

Kelly nodded.

Then something occurred to her.

"Wait."

"What?"

"She knew you had a date with me?"

"Yes."

Her eyebrows went up.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

I couldn't tell whether she was impressed, annoyed or both.

"How do you feel?"

I asked.

She laughed once.

"I was hoping you'd be less complicated than this."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I'm a little sorry."

That got a smile.

Then she became serious again.

"I like you, Blake."

"I like you."

"And I don't want to be somebody's secret."

"You aren't."

"I don't want to be the woman you use to make Megan jealous."

"You're not."

"And I definitely don't want Megan thinking I'm trying to steal you."

"She doesn't."

Kelly raised an eyebrow.

"She might a little."

I conceded that.

"Okay. Maybe a little."

Kelly laughed.

Then shook her head.

"This is insane."

"That's becoming a theme."

The waiter arrived with our food.

The conversation had to stop.

Maybe that saved us.

Because after that, things slowly became normal again.

Not uncomplicated.

Normal.

We ate.

Talked.

Laughed.

Kelly stole food off my plate without asking.

I complained.

She did it again specifically because I'd complained.

By dessert, she'd relaxed.

So had I.

When the check came, Kelly reached for it.

I grabbed it first.

"Oh, absolutely not."

"You asked me out."

"Exactly."

"That's antiquated."

"I don't care."

"Split it."

"No."

"Blake."

"Kelly."

She stared at me.

I stared back.

Finally she sighed.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

"But I'm buying next time."

The words sat between us.

Next time.

Kelly realized she'd said it.

So did I.

Neither of us corrected her.

---

Outside, the air had cooled.

We walked toward the car slowly.

Neither of us seemed particularly interested in getting there.

Kelly slipped her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

"So."

"So."

"Was this a date?"

"I believe that's what we agreed."

"No, I mean..."

She smiled.

"Was it a good date?"

I looked at her.

"Yeah."

"Even with the Megan bomb?"

"Even with the Megan bomb."

She nodded.

"Good."

"You?"

"Yeah."

We reached the car.

I leaned against the passenger door.

Kelly stopped in front of me.

For several seconds neither of us spoke.

This felt very different from being naked together.

At work she'd stood completely nude inches away from me.

I'd seen everything.

She'd seen almost everything.

And none of that felt as intimate as standing fully dressed beside my car wondering whether I should kiss her.

Kelly smiled.

"What?"

"You're thinking too loud."

"Apparently."

"Do you want to kiss me?"

There went subtlety.

"Yes."

"Good."

She didn't move.

Neither did I.

I smiled.

"Are you going to make me ask?"

"Maybe."

"Kelly."

"What?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Her expression softened.

"Yes."

I stepped closer.

The first kiss was brief.

Almost cautious.

Just enough to answer the question.

Then we separated.

Kelly looked at me.

I looked at her.

"Well?" I asked.

She smiled.

"Again."

So I kissed her again.

This one lasted longer.

Her hand came up against my chest. Mine settled at her waist.

Nothing rushed.

Nothing desperate.

Just the strange discovery of someone I'd already seen completely naked but had never touched like this.

When we separated, Kelly remained close.

"That's weird."

I laughed softly.

"What?"

"Kissing you feels more intimate than being naked with you."

"I was thinking exactly the same thing."

She looked down.

"I think that's what I didn't understand Friday."

"What?"

"Naked isn't necessarily intimate."

"No."

She looked back at me.

"This is."

"Yeah."

Her hand was still resting against my chest.

Then her expression changed.

"Megan."

I nodded.

"Yeah."

"Does she know you might kiss me?"

"She asked."

"And?"

"I told her I probably wanted to."

Kelly stared at me.

"Jesus Christ."

"What?"

"You two really do talk about everything."

"Lately."

"How'd she take it?"

"Badly."

Kelly winced.

"But she told me to come."

"Why?"

"Because I'd already asked you."

Kelly thought about that.

"I think I like her."

I laughed.

"You haven't met her."

"I know."

"Then how can you like her?"

"Because she could've made tonight miserable without ever meeting me."

Fair point.

Kelly stepped away.

"Take me home."

"Okay."

She opened the passenger door herself.

I looked at her.

"What?"

"I was going to get that."

"I know."

She smiled.

"I'm establishing independence."

"Get in the car."

She laughed.

---

When we reached her place, I walked her to the door.

She turned.

"Thank you."

"For dinner?"

"For not pretending Megan doesn't exist."

I nodded.

"You deserved to know."

"Earlier would've been better."

"I know."

"But you told me."

"Yeah."

She studied me.

"Do you know what you want?"

That was the question.

"No."

Kelly nodded.

"Okay."

"Is that a problem?"

"Eventually."

That answer was fair.

"But not tonight."

She leaned forward and kissed me once more.

Short.

Soft.

Then she stepped backward toward the door.

"Goodnight, Blake."

"Goodnight, Kelly."

She opened the door.

Then turned.

"Oh, and Blake?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell Megan I said hi."

I stared at her.

Kelly grinned.

Then disappeared inside.

---

The drive home felt longer than fifteen minutes.

Megan.

Kelly.

Megan kissing me on the couch.

Kelly kissing me beside the car.

Megan in bed.

Kelly saying kissing was more intimate than nudity.

I wasn't comparing them.

I was trying desperately not to.

But they felt different.

Megan felt familiar in a way that went all the way down.

Home.

History.

Comfort.

Kelly felt new.

Possibility.

Discovery.

Neither feeling canceled the other.

That was the problem.

When I pulled into the parking lot, the apartment lights were still on.

I sat in the car for a moment.

Megan was inside.

Waiting.

She'd asked me to come back to her.

I turned off the engine.

Walked upstairs.

Unlocked the door.

The apartment was quiet.

"Megan?"

No answer.

I closed the door.

"Megan?"

Then she appeared at the end of the hallway.

Naked.

Blonde hair loose around her shoulders.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

Neither of us spoke.

Finally she asked:

"How was it?"

There was no safe answer.

So I gave her the one she'd asked me for.

"The truth?"

Megan swallowed.

"Always."

"It was good."

Something passed through her eyes.

Jealousy.

Fear.

Maybe disappointment.

But she nodded.

"Did you kiss her?"

"Yes."

Another tiny flinch.

Then:

"Did you like it?"

I could've protected her.

Instead I respected her.

"Yes."

Megan closed her eyes for a second.

When she opened them again, she nodded.

"Okay."

I walked toward her.

She stayed where she was.

When I reached her, I stopped.

"Are you sorry you told me to go?"

She thought about it.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"No."

I smiled.

That finally brought a tiny smile from her.

Then she looked at me.

"Are you coming to bed?"

There was so much inside that question.

I reached for her hand.

"Yeah."

Her fingers closed around mine.

And together we walked toward her room.

Fully aware that absolutely nothing had gotten simpler.