Page 111 of The Last Good Man

The sweat permeating my skin drives me up the wall, and it’s not even warm inside.

Mina wears wool pants and a cashmere top, and she doesn’t show a sign of distress. Her makeup is perfect, andher cheeks are not flushed.

Evenmy sleeveless dress is too much.

Tearing my eyes away fromherred lips, I slowly sigh.

The smell of food and coffee tickles my nostrils.

“Am I sweating?” I ask, yanking out a tissue from a box inside a drawer and blotting my brow.

It’s soaked.

I toss it in the garbage.

“Uh, yes… What happened?” she asks.

Well, for one, I got a couple of orgasms this weekend but didn’t get laid.

The man I was supposed to sleep with didn’t get it up.

The man who stepped in said we weren’t about sex.

And why?

Because I didn’t want to make it about sex.

And where is he now?

My money is on that married woman.

He left the place annoyed.

Of course he was annoyed.

I gave him blue balls, and then I tucked him in under a fuzzy blanket.

He must’ve been royally pissed.

And then, some random good-looking neighbor swung his dick in his gray sweatpants––I know exactly what that moving bulge was––before inspecting me with eyes that looked like frozen pools of water.

And then…

My landlord showed up to scold me because I’d broken the rules. And as much as he was within his right to do that, the timing was horrible, reminding me that I needed to look for a place to buy.

“I need a new place to live…” I say quietly, perusing the foodin front ofme, my interest dwindling.

I pick up my coffee and take a swig before grabbing my fork and eating my eggs despite having no appetite.

The food is good while I’m not.

She knows me well, so instead of moving away, pretending she has something to do in her office and letting me be, shetakes a seatacross from me and sets her tablet down.

A worried look slides over her face.

“You need to lease a new place?”

“No,” I say, chewing on my food. “I need to buy a place.”

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