Chapter 33

Sabrina left the apartment, having re-dressed in your room in her own clothes.

"Dude. Duuuude," Mosche said. "That girl was so fuckin' hot, and she was totally into coming to a show. Does she have hot friends? Do you think you could, like, bring her and a whole bunch of them?"

You were both standing in the kitchen of the apartment now, as you were taking a quick drink of water before heading out and Mosche was just sort of there.

"I mean, if she wants to I'll bring her to one," you said. "But Sabrina and I go to the same college, man. I don't think she knows many people here in the city."

"Oh, well that's kind of a bummer," Mosche said, deflating a bit as his shoulders slumped. "I mean, one more fan would be great, but..."

"But you were hoping she might set you up with a 'hot friend.'" you finished for him.

"Yeah, pretty much," he sighed. "I mean - and I'm not trying to be rude or anything, dude - but when she walked across the apartment in just your towel? That was really hot."

You smirked and shook your head. "That was all her idea, my dude." It had been kind of cute, Sabrina playing with the idea first. Your shirt and shorts she'd worn from your room to the washroom had gotten cum on the inside, so she hadn't wanted to put them back on after showering. Considering Sabrina got naked and toyed with herself semi-professionally on the internet, watching her get nervous over being naked under a towel in front of one guy had put a smile on your face.

"Anyways," you continued, "I gotta get out of here. I've got a date."

Mosche got a confused look. "Wait, what? You two were just fucking. Well, I assume you were, but like, come on that's a pretty good assumption. Is this like a breakfast-for-dinner kind of thing? Fuck first, date after?"

Fuck, you thought. Now you were going to have to try and explain this. "No, I'm- the date is with someone else. Sabrina coming over was her idea - she picked out my outfit and, ah, relieved some tension so I'd be relaxed."

Mosche stood there with his mouth agape, his eyes blinking behind his big glasses as he tried to comprehend what I was saying.

"I know, dude. I know," you said. "It's-"

"Do you think she'd do that for me sometime?" Mosche asked.

"Fuck no," you said, then hesitated as you realized how mean that sounded, and also that you weren't saying it because you were sure Sabrina wouldn't. You were saying it because you were jealous of the thought. "I mean, dude, I'm sorry that came out like that," you quickly followed up. "Sabrina and I, we've kind of got this... connection thing going on. She's made it pretty clear that we're friends with benefits, and that she's not looking for anything more - from me, or in terms of numbers."

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"Oh, uh, alright," Mosche shrugged. "But if you're so, like, into her, what's with the date with another chick? Tinder date or something?"

"We, ah, we all sort of work together?" you said.

Mosche took that one in and processed it while nodding. "So what I'm hearing is that you might not be able to make rent next month because you'll be looking for a new job. Dude! You are playing with fucking fire."

You really were. But the fire was so hot. Wait, the metaphor is actually so good it doesn't work.

"I promise I'll have rent," you said, fairly certain. "And it's complicated but... I think it can work."

Mosche just threw his hands up in the air and walked out of the kitchen. "You work as an intern and I'm a standup comic, and somehow you've got multiple hot babes and I've got none. What even is this life?" Then he stuck his head back in the room. "Hey, how late do you think you'll be? I was gonna try that tantric thing again..."

- - - - -

You'd been standing outside the License to Liquor for about ten minutes when the uber pulled up front. The arcade bar's logo was a spinoff of an old James Bond photo - you were pretty sure it was Sean Connery - with the 'o' of Liquor as the barrel of his classic pistol.

Gemma stepped out of the uber, and you stepped forward and took her hand to help her up. She was stunning. Her platinum blonde hair was loose and flowing in waves down past her shoulders, and she smiled broadly as you helped her. She was wearing a summer dress, yellow with floral print all over it, that showed off her chest and cleavage like you'd never seen before. Gemma was fucking stacked! The spaghetti straps left most of her shoulders bare, showing off her bra straps, and the dress itself came down to just above her knees in a flowy skirt. Then you noticed her vibrant blue heels, the same colour as a lot of the flowers on the dress. They had to have been at least three-inch heels, and she was standing almost the same height as you.

"Wow," you said, and pulled her into a hug that she accepted with a smile. "Gem, you look so beautiful."

"Thanks. You're not looking too bad yourself, handsome."

"This is for you," you said, holding out a single yellow African daisy that you'd had the time to stop for at a shop two blocks over.

"Oh, John," she said. "You shouldn't have gone to the trouble." She took the flower and immediately raised it to her nose, taking a deep smell as she closed her eyes. "Mmm, nice choice though."

"And I got lucky, it matches your dress," I grinned.

"I was going to say, were you stalking me?" she asked playfully.

"Definitely not. Complete luck. Next time you can text me your dress colour and I'll do it on purpose," you said.

"Next time already, huh?" Gemma said. "How about we see how this time goes first before we book a second date?"

I offered her my arm and she took it. "Don't mind me," you said. "Just trying to Jedi mind trick you into looking forward to a lot more time with me."

She smirked, and we started heading into the bar. "Well, at least it's a wholesome goal. Most guys would be trying to Jedi mind tricking their way into my panties."