Page 84 of The Fed Sex Man

Shawn pointed to the collection of bracelets that were on display in front of her. “Pick one out.”

Her face washed with confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m going to buy you a bracelet.”

Her eyes thinned. “Why?”

Shawn raked his eyes up and down her five-two frame and waited.

Enough time passed for me to make a sandwich, eat it, and clean up the mess. When I was mentally wiping the countertop free of crumbs, her eyes widened.

“Oh. My God.” She giggled. “You’re funny.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them, hoping I could make her go away, but it didn’t work. I’d seen enough over-baked flesh to last me a lifetime. I flicked the back of my hand against Shawn’s bicep and pushed him toward the door. “Come on, Casanova. We’re going to the flower shop.”

“I work until ten,” she said as we turned away.

Following me to the door with reluctance in his steps, Shawn glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

“Dude.” I huffed a sigh. “She’s orange.”

“Orange, and sexy as fuck,” he insisted. “Did you see those titties?”

There was nothing sexy about her. She, her titties, and her discolored skin were disgusting. “The ones she flopped onto the glass case?” I chuckled. “Yeah, I saw them.”

“She needs to be titty-fucked.” He glanced in her direction and then looked at me. “I’d come all over that cute little face of hers.”

I paused. “Cute? You think that chick was cute?”

“She looked like Alicia Silverstone with big fuckin’ titties.”

The movie was popular when we were thirteen. He never ceased to amaze me with his references to celebrities, and I gave him a look to make my position clear. “The chick from Clueless?”

“Yep.”

I pushed the door open and gestured toward the parking lot. “You need to grow the fuck up.”

“Fuck you, T.J.”

I walked to the car without further discussing flowers, Alicia Silverstone, bracelets, discolored titty flesh, or coming on the face of shopping mall sales associates.

Although I couldn’t blame Shawn for the sexual antics of my past, being friends with him had certainly contributed to my desire to bang as many women as possible. Sharing tales of lewd behavior and the inflated qualities of the women we had sex with was commonplace between us.

I was afraid those days were over.

He reached for the door handle and paused. “On to the flower shop?” he asked over the top of the car. “Get a big arrangement of cool shit?”

“Nope. I’m going to the bookstore.”

“Without a gift?”

“I’ve got a gift.”

“What?” he asked.

I grinned, knowing my response would fall on argumentative ears. Nonetheless, I said what I felt was appropriate.

“Loyalty.”