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“Alderchuck, I’m warning you.”
“Know what I’ve always admired Henry for? His big arms, can’t wait to have ‘em wrapped around me.”
“Henry couldn’t bench press a dowel rod.”
I hate how unaffected he is. This is just his whole I don’t want you, but no one else can have you bullshit again. He doesn’t care about me. I’m the idiot for thinking that maybe this was about something else. That maybe he missed me. All his “make sure to text me” bullshit had me thinking he cared for half a second—was that just so his fuck toy wouldn’t end up damaged?
Which reminds me, I know just how to needle the fuck out of Sutter from afar.
“Guess what else? He lives near Ivan’s Pub.” The thing about Vancouver is, some real nice condos are a block over from one of the shady parts of town. One side of the block, million-dollar condos, other side, run-down motels, pubs, the train station, and questionable vagabonds lining the block. They’re usually more harm to themselves than others. Usually. But I know Sutter will think about the other times.
“Hell, no. Casey, I fucking mean it. I’ll jump on a plane just to beat your ass.”
“Beat your ass” means spank in our language. Probably with his hand. That big hand. Dammit, I miss his big hand going to town on my delinquent ass.
Wait.He called me Casey.
“Don’t even have any protection with me, like that ridiculous knife you gave me. I’d have to use fists if it came down to it.”
“Must be real fun to fuck with me, but if I were there right now, it wouldn’t even be a conversation. I’d tie your ass to the bed.”
“Well, you’re not here.”
His huff isn’t the usual annoyance-filled kind. There’s something desperate in it. “Okay, you win, Alderchuck. What do I have to do to get you to go home?”
Is he for real? Let’s find out. “Tell me the truth. Why did you call?”
There’s a long pause.
“I was jealous. I didn’t want you fucking Henry. But now I’m worried and jealous. It’s a bad combo, Alderchuck.”
I’m enjoying his suffering even more than I thought I would. I’m in the middle of dreaming up how else to twist the knife.
“You’re worried about your toy getting damaged, oooor …” I let that hang there.
“I’m worried about you, dumbass. Have you told him to turn around yet?” Sutter’s gravelly voice says.
“You can’t tell an Uber driver to turn around.”
“Casey—” His voice breaks. There’s something in the breaking. Alright, I’ve had my fun and my revenge.
“I’ll hire him to drive me home but don’t think we’re done here.”
“We’re not. You’re staying on the phone with me until your feet hit the entryway of your house.”
He makes me stay on the phone with him. He yells at the Uber driver—who thankfully can’t hear him—when he gives me a hard time about another fare. I promise him a huge tip and some Cheezies from my bag, and it all works out.
As soon as I hit the threshold of my house, I tell Sutter so I can end this bout of insanity, but he still won’t let me off the phone.
“I overreacted about what you said. I get why you’d say it. But you should know that, even though you are my sex doll?—”
“Sutter—”
“You’re also a lot more than that. I’ve never shown anyone but Lane my dad’s bike, and that’s only because we were kids.”
“Lane, just the man I want to hear all about.”
“I punched him in the face.”
