Salty is Good
#11 of Reader's Choice
Salty is Good
"Sometimes, salty is a good thing," you say and lick your lips.
Malcolm blinks then shakes his head. "I'm beginning to think you might be incorrigible."
"Me?" you say with a feigned innocent tone.
"Yeah, I'm beginning to think that you have ulterior motives to wanting to come over. Something tells me you're not here for the pasta."
"Well, yeah," you say. "I'll freely admit that I'm interested in those stories in the binders now."
Malcolm chuckles and shakes his head. The two of you whittle down your pasta until forks are scraping the plates to get the last of it. The glasses of wine had been filled and emptied three times each, with just a little remaining in the first bottle.
Malcolm pushes the table top back down and gathers up the two empty plates and took them to the sink. As he comes back over, he takes the rest of the wine and divides it between the two glasses. Settling back in on the couch beside you, (noticeably a little closer,) he picks up his glass and lifts it. "To first times," he toasts.
"First times," you reply, clatter your glass against his and finish the bottle.
"Well," he says after putting his empty glass back on the table, "hopefully the lack of salt didn't put you off my cooking too much."
"It was good," you say. "I like that you added some flair to off-the-shelf stuff."
"Yeah, living alone, you get tired of the bland simple and quick stuff pretty quick." Malcolm's paw rests on the couch cushion a few inches from your thigh.
You smile his timid attempt to move to the physically intimate.