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“You’ve never . . .” Luckily her voice trails off, and when she must realize the depth of my lack of sexual experience, she nods slowly, pursing her lips and mulling it over like the world just offered her the most peculiar problem. “So, how’d you do it?”
I pause, staring at her in confusion and bewilderment. Oh, embarrassment’s here for the ride, too.
“Come on,” she chuckles, leaning forward and pressing her hands on top of the counter. “Mason Carpenter’s head over fucking heels with you,” she says, lowering her voice. “Are you a witch?”
“No,” I snap, appalled by her insinuation. “And Mason’s not in love with me. He’s helping me with something and I’m working for him as payment.”
“So, like prostitution.”
“No,” I huff. “Look, I need something I can wear to a sex club and you’re the only person I know around here besides three greasy mechanics.”
She looks around her as if she’s trying to decide if I’m worth it or not.
“Look, you’re a nice girl, Red. Real sweet . . .” She says it like one would when speaking to a child.
“But . . .”
She sighs, leaning back and searching my face like a disappointed mother.
“You’re sure about this?”
No.
“Yes.”
She sighs, rolling her eyes. “Jerry, I’m heading upstairs for a minute.” The man at the other end of the bar playing solitaire nods, not even looking at her.
“Come on, Red,” she says, taking my hand and leading me toward the back where the entrance to the apartment upstairs is. “Let’s go play dress up.”
“Where do you buy all this leather?”
Britt chuckles under her breath, tossing a skirt on the bed beside me.
“Stores, Hannah. Here.” She hands me a top that may as well be lingerie and I stare at her.
“I can’t wear this.”
“You’re going to a sex club. With a sex god. Wear the damned top.”
I swallow down past the lump in my throat, holding it up to inspect it.
My mother would shit herself if she saw me in this . . .
“You know what? You’re right.”
“Told you, Red.”
I resume petting her cat, Chester, who purrs loudly on the top of Britt’s comforter beside me.
It’s strange. Being in someone else’s room. I feel like I barely know her, but in a lot of ways, I could see Britt and I getting along. We’re from different sides of the world, yet, at the end of the day, we’re the same.
I can tell by her demeanor, she’s had a rough upbringing. Maybe not the same as mine, but it wasn’t peaches and cream.
“What’s Mommy going to say when she sees her perfect daughter in leather and heels?”
I cringe. “Probably start a nuclear war.”
“Thank God she doesn’t have the keys to the kingdom,” Britt mumbles from her closet before turning back over her shoulder. “No offense.”
