7: Heated

"Sit over there and I'll be with you in a second." Tucker's voice was short and commanding. I blindly obeyed. I didn't know what I had done to make him upset. Nervousness and confusion seeped throughout my body. He couldn't possibly like me enough to be jealous of Ben, who I had only just met. Could he?

And yet.

I kind of liked it. The power in his tone. His puffed out chest. The sheer masculinity and alpha male presentation of dominance. I began to feel warm, warmer than I had been talking to Ben.

So yes, I was hot. The sheer amount of sexy men in my presence was overwhelming. Ben was about 5'10", tall enough for my preferences. His arms and legs were shredded, covered in tattoo sleeves. He had a neatly trimmed black beard and his hair was cut short on the side, long on top with a side part. I wanted to run my fingers though it. I felt like he could pick me up without a problem, and for someone who's kind of fat, that is quite the attractive quality. But what I liked even more about Ben was that he didn't look at me like I was taking up space that someone hotter could have been filling. No, he looked at me like a person. And my reptilian brain responded especially well to that.

Was I flirting with him? Probably. It felt good. I felt like a completely different person around men who gave me the time of day. It was that feeling that made me completely ignore everything around me, including Tucker's arrival. I wasn't trying to make him jealous. Promise.

"Could you fill these out for me?" Tucker asked, handing me papers. He was still short, but softened a little bit. It didn't sound like a harsh bark but a gentle push. Maybe he felt bad.

"Yeah," I said, taking them along with the pen in his hand. I brushed his fingers with mine when grabbing it, then looked away sheepishly. It was an act. It was an act and I knew it.

Like any smart person, I have different levels of interest in people based on how I feel the relationship could go. I will normally shut myself off from someone I know will never return interest in me, unless I see such potential and promise that I can't help but let my heart rule my head. If the other person is interested and I am not, I don't mind throwing them a flirtatious bone once in awhile. It's almost a confidence boost for me. The Internet randoms are easy to handle because they only want to hook up and I can hook up quite easily. There's the back and forth of actual relationships, and then, finally, there is the last category, the one where I found my relationship with Tucker leading. The one where I pretend that I'm the picture of innocence and don't know that I'm being suggestive.

When I act that way, I think it's the embodiment of all the self-confidence I lack when I'm being plain old Ruby, lame and fat. Whenever this happens, I have an identity crisis. Am I the sex kitten I'm pretending to be? Or am I the loser that I often feel that I am?

"Thank you," Tucker said. He took a seat next to me and set his elbows on the table, waiting. I saw Jackie slip behind the desk and whisper to Ben. Interesting. I looked back at the papers, trying to focus.

The papers were tax forms, something that I always hated filling out. I never knew how to answer and I had an irrational fear of being audited. Was I lying when I said I was a dependent? Am I still a dependent? I looked up at Tucker. He was looking away, at a man sprinting on a treadmill. I was relieved that he wasn't looking at my answers. I could not have this man ignore my advances simply because he didn't think I was a grown-up based on the fact that I claimed dependency on my parents. Adulthood is weird. I'm old enough to ride a dick but still don't know how to do taxes all that well or season meat properly. Maybe one day.

I filled the rest of them out as quickly as I could. I felt myself wanting Tucker's attention. I glanced up. He was looking at me.

"I'm done," I announced. He silently took my papers and went back to the desk. Brooding was a new look for him. There was tension in his jaw and up his back. His forehead was furrowed. I could play this game with him. I would kill him with charm, and if that didn't work, we had another seven and a half hours left in the day for him to soften up.

I could do this.