Page 50 of Play Nice

“I don’t do it,” he says. “I’d lose my job.”

“Not ever? Not once?” I ask, getting up and taking his hand, leading him over to the couch.

“Plead the Fifth,” he says, grabbing me by the waist. He kisses me.

We undress slowly until we’re both naked except for my tube socks, which I leave on intentionally. I straddle him on the couch.

“Do you want to?” he asks me, his hands in my hair, his lips on my neck.

“Do you have a condom?”

He tells me he does.

I bite his shoulder. “Presumptuous.”

“What can I say? I’m an optimist.”

I put the condom on him with my mouth—a trick I learned from one of my dancer friends who went on to be a Wall Street CEO’s sugar baby—then I slide on top.

“Fuck,” he says, his breath hitching, fingers pressing into my hips.

It lasts longer than I expect it to. It’s the best sex I’ve had in a long time. Might make it into the Hall of Fame.

When it’s over, we’re both spent. We pass out on the couch.

I wake up in the morning to the sound of the front door closing. I’ve got a blanket draped over me, still naked save for my socks. There’s a page ripped out of my sketchpad. He left me a note on the coffee table.

Had to go to work.

Last night was something…

See you again tonight?

His phone number is scribbled at the bottom.

I yawn and set the paper back on the table. I order some coffee and a breakfast sandwich, scroll on my phone while waiting for them to arrive.

Veronica invites me to brunch with two of her other photogenic friends, Tara and Simone. It’s hard to know sometimes if people want to see me only to see me. The purpose of the outing is to document the experience. We can enjoy the experience while we’re there, but that’s not what matters. It’s veneer.

I tell her I can’t make it, that I’m at the house.

Did you see that guy again? she asks, probably with a twinge of jealousy. I wonder if when she’s mad at her boyfriend she daydreams about me.

Who knew if you wanted good dick you had to come to the suburbs? I reply.

OMG!!

There’s a knock at the door, and I forget about Veronica. I wrap myself in the blanket and go down to answer. The delivery kid turns a lovely shade of magenta, realizing I’m naked underneath.

I drink my coffee and eat my egg sandwich and then prepare to take a shower. I’m so filthy, but I’m just going to get dirty again. Sweat more.

Caffeine-buzzed and highly motivated, I decide to clean up around the house first before I clean up myself.

I put on yesterday’s clothes. I dust. Pick more dead flies off the windowsills. Vacuum.

Finally, I brave the garage.

As soon as I open the door, I smell death.