Page 61 of The Fed Sex Man

“No, dumbass. When you were at Christina Aguilera’s place.”

“No, I fucked her afterward.”

“Who? Jo?”

“Yep.”

“You fucked her after you couldn’t get it up for the Aguilera chick?”

“Right after. Yeah. I was worried my shit was broken, so I hot-footed it over there and fucked her in the hallway.”

“Which hallway?”

“Back of the bookstore.”

“Remote hallway, or visible?”

“Visible.”

“You been reading those books? From her store?”

“Nope.”

“Just felt like fuckin’ in the hallway while the dirty cowgirl watched?”

“She wasn’t watching.”

“I bet she was.”

“She wasn’t.”

He sighed. “Got bad news, Kemosabe. If you couldn’t get it up for Aguilera, and you got it up for Jo, it wasn’t dehydration. It’s much deeper than that. I think you’re falling in love.”

I knew better than to allow myself to fall into the false belief that love existed. Love was a farce, and I knew that from first-hand information.

“There’s two things you need to understand,” I said adamantly. “It isn’t love, and the cowgirl wasn’t watching.”