A short dress on a hot day. A nice dress on a very nice body. A purple dress against dark skin. A vision of beauty drifting into my life, the soft material of the dress sliding so innocently over her smooth skin as she pushes through the door of the café. She is confident, happy in her so lovely skin. She smiles widely and puts her book down on the counter, her purse on the book, and rests a gentle, short-fingered hand on the purse. Her nails match her dress.

Purple, the last colour of the rainbow. I finger my rainbow-coloured wristband self-consciously. I wonder if she'll notice it and if she does, whether she'll care.

She looks me in the eye and I want to kiss her. After a moment, her gaze moves up to the menu board above me and I take a deep breath to calm the desire pulsing through me.

'Hi. What can I get you? Or do you want a moment?' I fiddle with my order pad and hope my eagerness to connect with her isn't obvious to my boss and colleague. She is pretty, taller than me, trim but curvy. I want to fit my head into the curve of her neck and kiss behind her ear, fit my body against hers and feel her arm around me. I've never fancied a black girl before, I wonder what it would look and feel like – my pale body in her dark arms, her dark fingers running over my pasty skin, her pink tongue curling around mine. Her black hair falling from its loose bun and mingling with my blonde hair on the pillow as she lowers herself onto me.

The desire pulses harder through me and I blush and look away.

She shifts her weight a little and leans her hip on the counter. I imagine how the soft, thin material of her dress feels on her skin. 'Er, yeah, hello.' Her voice is soft, educated, sexy – she's at the university, like me, I guess. I imagine her voice saying my name softly into my ear. 'First things first, can I have a tea?'

'Yep.' My voice is hoarse and I clear my throat. 'Yes, of course.' I turn to prepare the pot, and look back at her over my shoulder. She's watching me, and I notice her eyes flick back up my body to look into my face. I notice her eyes are a light brown flecked with green. 'Anything to eat?' 

She grins, and it feels like it lights up the whole shop. Her mouth is wide, her lips full but not plump. I want to kiss her, again. I want to feel those lips on mine, I want to pull her tongue into my mouth. I want to feel her lips and tongue on my body. Her curious eyes glitter where the smile touches them. 'Yeah, I just don't know what. This heat, huh? It's making it difficult to concentrate.'

I shrug and turn round, placing the tea in front of her carefully. I dig out a spoon and a packet of sugar lumps, and add them to the saucer with a little paper napkin. She watches me as she brushes her book and purse slightly aside. Her finger brushes mine as she takes the tea and I try to hold my breath steady. 'Can you suggest anything?' she asks softly.

How about coming back to mine and getting out of that dress while we kiss, and then how about making love for the whole week solid? I think.

'Um...salad?' I indicate the covered dishes in the cabinet.

Another smile. 'Cool. Ham salad, then, please. Dressing, not salad cream.'

'OK.' I write it on my pad then glance up and catch her eye. Her lips are slightly open, and I sigh with the desire to kiss her. 'If you want to take a seat somewhere, I'll bring it over.' Her eyes flick down and I know she's noticed my wristband. She glances up at my face again and smiles.

Maybe just to thank me for doing my job.

As she gathers up her stuff, I notice she's reading The Well of Loneliness. My heart misses a beat, even as I remind myself it's one of the key texts for one of the second-year courses in the English department. I want to do that course next year – though I've read that particular book before, of course. I don't remember seeing her around the department, and I know I would remember her.

She sits at a small table near the window and I really enjoy the way her dress moves against her as she sits down. I really enjoy the way her dress moves against her as she crosses her legs, too. I really enjoy the long, curvy expanse of her bare legs. I enjoy the way her dress hugs her body, and I allow myself a moment to imagine the feel of her smooth skin under my fingers as I slip the straps off her shoulders and push the dress off her body.

She thumbs open her book and glances over to smile at me, and I really want to kiss her again. I drop my head and get on with preparing her salad.

I tuck her bill under the plate and weave my way over to her table. She watches the way I negotiate the café and moves her book, closing it around a finger to keep her place and resting it out of the way on her bare leg. As I serve her, I pluck up courage to ask about it. 'Are you reading that for uni? I really want to do that course next year.'

She puts it to one side. 'No. I'm doing postgrad work, but in something else.' She holds my gaze, and I feel my insides tighten with pleasure, even as I feel embarrassed about my faux pas. 'This is just for the interest.' 

'Oh, OK.' I fiddle with my wristband and she watches me. 'For me, er, I found it a bit disappointing actually.' I was quite young when I first read it, struggling with an emerging identity. I wonder if I should re-read it.

'Mm-hmm. It is a bit dry, isn't it?' She has a patient, steady gaze. She takes in my face, my hair, my breasts and hips and legs, my face again. Unhurriedly, as if for the first time. 'So, what are you reading for pleasure at the moment?'

'Oh, er, Alice Walker. It's good, I like her.'

She grins. 'Ah yes. Of course.'

I leave her to eat, and we spend the time catching each other's eye across the room. I decide that it's definitely possible that she's flirting with me. I flirt back.

When she comes to the counter to pay, I subtly elbow the other waitress out of the way and deal with her myself. The other waitress has noticed me flirting with the girl, and lets me. I watch the girl's fingers pull the money out of her purse, and imagine them in my hair as we kiss, on my skin as we make love. She leans her hip on the counter again and I imagine her body under the thin dress. The colour purple really suits her, I think.

Our fingers brush as she pays. She tips me far too much. I tell her I hope she enjoys her book

'Yeah, well.' She waits for me to look at her face, and under the humour in her eyes is a certain urgency. 'I'm going to the park to read in the sunshine. I'll be there all afternoon, I reckon.' There's a little pause. 'See you later?'

That last bit is definitely a question, and as she leaves the café the other waitress nudges me. 'You know where you're going after we finish.' She giggles as I watch the girl move off down the street.. Her dress sways around her as she walks and I sigh.

The next three hours can't pass quickly enough for me – in fact, they seem to crawl by. But eventually I can leave, and I walk briskly to the park. In the distance, I see a flash of purple against dark skin, and I approach with my heart in my mouth. She looks up and makes room for me next to her on the bench. Our shoulders touch and I feel her bare leg against me, warm through my jeans. I tell her I like her dress and she smiles shyly. She reaches out and gently stops me fiddling with my wristband. She's witty and charming and subtly, but insistently, flirty.

We talk – about books, about her research, about ourselves. She invites herself back to my room on the pretext of borrowing a book by Alice Walker, and when she finally leaves me the next morning she accidentally leaves it behind.