Page 72 of Free Agent

“Bothers isn’t quite the right word. But… it feels dangerous… to enjoy you as much as I do.”

Shit.

Could I just not help myself from saying the stuff I should be telling a friend?

A different friend.

One I wasn’t fucking.

“Damn. You sound like a married nigga talking to the twenty year old down at the warehouse job.”

My eyes went wide. “Boy, I am so sick of you!” I giggled, shaking my head at his silliness.

“No you’re not,” he teased. “Don’t get mad at me for trying to distract from your heartfelt confessions and shit.”

“Oh my God.”

“It’s working, see? You’re welcome.”

“Oh, so you just decided I’m grateful?”

“Exactly, baby.”

By this time, the car was pulling to a stop in front of my building. I had Tatum hold for me while I got situated inside—bags down, shoes off, standing in the mirror to wash my face.

“What are you doing?” he asked, when the water first turned on.

“About to wash my face. What are you doing?”

“Planning,” he answered. “Mudding season is coming up fast, and we have a little festival out at Wildwood every year.”

“Mudding?”

“Yeah. Bunch of dancing and drinking and riding ATVs in a big field, often muddy because of the rain.”

I frowned as I scrubbed with my cleanser. “This is some men’s retreat thing?”

“Nah, there’s always a good mix of everybody,” he answered. “I’ve seen women with better handles and rides than men.”

“Oh! Is the mud like… sterile?”

“Is the mud ste—you’re deadass?”

“Yes!” I laughed. “Don’t make fun of me, I seriously don’t know. It just sounds very… pathogenic.”

“That’s so dramatic.”

“I’ll accept that. Are you gonna answer the question?”

“No, it’s not sterile, Aurora.”

I gasped. “Why would you say it like that?!”

“To properly convey my exasperation,” he chuckled, while I rinsed, then reached for toner. “It ain’t sterile, but it’s very much organic, grass-fed, pasture-raised, etcetera. Nobody ever picks up anything a lil trip to the dermatologist can’t fix. A lil triple antibiotic or calamine lotion from the drug store. A lil anti-fungal cream.”

“Lil? There’s nothing lil about staph and ringworm, man!”

“A lil ringworm ain’t nothing, come on,” Tatum insisted. “You telling me you’re that citified, that you’ve never gotten a lil ringworm rash!”

---