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For the rest of the day, I’m worthless. I sit there staring at the manuscript, and no progress is made. I don’t see Nicky, and Angelica says nothing because I don’t hear her anyway. I’m daydreaming about Jordan. Gorgeous Jordan with his magic fingers and mouth. I want to know what he can do with his cock.
I practically float home, and when I arrive, the place is a disaster. I’m going to kill Nathaniel. Beer bottles, wrappers, several empty pizza boxes, and cigarette butts litter the kitchen and living room. It smells like a dive bar. The bathroom is even worse. Someone threw up and missed the toilet. I begin screaming Nathaniel’s name and kick his door open.
Two women, a blonde and redhead, are lying in bed with him, naked. They both look up at me when the door bangs against the wall, looking stoned.
“Hey, baby girl, how was Jordan?” he sounds high.
“Is she joining us too?” The redhead asks.
“No, I’m not, and you’re leaving. Now.”
“Who died and made you boss?”
“You heard her girls, time to go.”
They groan, and I turn away as they get up to search for their clothing on the debris-strewn floor in Nathaniel’s room. I stand there looking at the ceiling until they’re dressed and follow them to the front door.
“Goodbye, ladies,” I say as I slam the door after them.
I’m seething, and I fill a glass with cold water and enter Nathaniel’s room. He seems to have fallen back to sleep. I move towards his bed and dump the water on his face. He wakes up, sputtering.
“What the fuck was that for?”
“Get up, you disrespectful asshole. Look at this place. Don’t you have to be at work tonight?”
“It’s Monday.”
“No, it’s fucking not. It’s Tuesday, and you said you had to be at Stackhouse tonight.”
“SHIT. What time is it?”
“Almost six. What time do you have to be there for soundcheck?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Well, get your ass up and shower so I can do your hair.”
He jumps up, and I turn away from his nakedness. When he’s in the shower, I start cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. I grab a black garbage bag and shove all the garbage into it. By the time Nate comes out of the bathroom, it’s half done. I guess I’ll be spending my night cleaning.
A few minutes later, he calls me to work on his hair. I grab the blow dryer and try to get it to the point of being just damp. The pomade works better when it is. As I work it in, we have a chat.
“Nate, why do you do this shit all the time?”
“I’m just enjoying myself. Get off my case.”
“But what you do doesn’t just affect you, it affects me. Just look at this place.”
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I know I sometimes get a little out of hand. I just need to exorcise my demons.”
“Fucking women, smoking weed, and drinking is not a constructive way to deal with your demons. Do you want to end up like your parents?”
“That’s a fucking low blow. I’ll never end up like them.”
“They’re alcoholics. You have an addictive personality, and you’re fifty percent more apt to become an alcoholic because they are. Those aren’t very good odds with the lifestyle you’re leading.”
He pushes my hands away and stands, grabbing his wallet off the nightstand.
“I don’t need a lecture from you, especially since you have your own problems.”
