I invited my girlfriend, the text reads, I hope you don't mind.

I write back that I don't.

Poly. I dunno. I mean, it works for some people, but it doesn't work for me, really. At least he was honest right from the get go. At least I know she thinks they're poly too.

I go to meet them at a restaurant overlooking the river.

"Table for one?" the waitress asks.

"Actually," I say, "I'm here to meet some friends--" No need to explain. "--has a woman and a very tall man come in recently?"

Her gaze slides over my shoulder and she points. I look.

There he is, standing in the aisle. Black pants, good shoes, red dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. He's huge. Six foot seven, and proportionate.

I immediately get a flash of being thrown around by those arms, that easy stance. I like the thought.

He smiles. She stays seated and watches me walk over, her hands folded in her lap. Her smile is more timid, but she does smile.

We order beers. Seated, we could be all the same height, but even in the hard side-light of the restaurant, I can see that the pint glass looks like a juice glass in his hand.

~

G calls early in the morning. He's still in bed. I can hear him stretching.

"I'm coming up," he says. "Do you want to come to my hockey game?" He's reffing.

I hate hockey, but I like staring at his bum.

"Yeah, alright."

What am I doing to myself?

~

We talk. I inspect them both. They are both a little bit shy, a little bit nerdy. I can tell they have a long standing relationship.

She keeps her hands in her lap, mostly. She wears a plain necklace, a band of gold around her neck. I wonder if it's a kink thing. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.

She talks about her work. He talks about hers. I talk about mine, too much. It feels weird. Is it weird?

It's all weird.

~

He meets me in the lobby of the arena.

"There's a ticket at the door for you," he says. He stands close, not quite touching. I can feel the electricity of his body. I want to catch his hand, but I don't.

"Alright," I say. I have letter writing stuff in my purse, because I know I will be bored. "Thanks."

He hesitates.

"Look over there," he says.

"What?"

"Look over there," he repeats, and points. I look at exactly nothing.

He catches my neck with his full hand, and presses a kiss to my cheek, through my hair.

When I jerk, he grins and darts away, ever the naughty boy.

"I'll see you after the game," he says, and is gone down the hallway to the change rooms.

~

He's got the devil in his eye. He fingers the rim of his pint glass and watches me while I talk.

I wonder if he's imagining the things he'd like to do to me, and it makes me stumble on my words, and break eye contact.

I know he can feel it. The push and pull of power. It's what I like. It's what I wrote in my profile.

It makes the hair on the backs of my arms stand up.

Eventually I beg off. I have a dinner party to go to.

He insists on paying for the three of us, and stands close to me while we wait for his girlfriend to put her coat on. I am dwarfed, dwarfed by his size. I, with my heeled leather boots pushing me well over six feet, am still dwarfed.

It makes my stomach flip over.

~

I wait by the exit to the change rooms for G to emerge. He does, eventually, wearing a three piece blue suit, and dark brown shoes.

I tease him about the suit, but it seems pretty normal. Everyone seems to be putting on suits after the game.

"When will I see you again?" he asks.

"My hands are cold," I say, hoping he'll hold them, but he doesn't.

"I wish I could stay and hang out with you a bit," he says. "I gotta drive the other ref home, though. Next time."

"I was thinking of coming down for a weekend, to explore Seattle."

His eyes light up. "Yeah?" His teeth blossom. "Keep me posted. I'll do what I can to be a gracious host."

I smile. G, my weakness, the butterfly to my hurricane.

"I gotta go," he insists, finally. "Come 'ere." He holds out his arms and I slide into them. His face disappears into a cloud of my hair. He presses his cheek to mine, his fingers knead into the muscles of my back.

"You smell nice," he murmurs, and then pulls away, and in another second is gone.

~

Outside, the cold bites my arms. I left my jacket off. I like the sharp cold on my bare arms. I feel defiant in my heeled boots.

"Let's do this again," I say. He smiles. She smiles.

"Yes, let's."

.

Rosie

Before&After