Page 58 of Unmatched

My stomach clenches. I curl my hands into determined fists in my lap. There’s no chance in hell I’m letting him do anything to my butt. But I’ll be damned if he’s going to try those things on someone else.

I open my car door. It’s probably fine just to look around.

The facade of the building looks a little like a strip club. Two stories of nondescript brick and stucco and all the windows are glass block. There actually is a strip club a block away, but also a Super Target. Gotta love this area of the city. I watch a few people enter and exit, convinced I’ll be shopping with the most lecherous patrons in town. But all I see is a normal-looking white guy in a plaid shirt, then a couple of college-aged girls. None of them seem suspicious or strange. They all look like they could just as easily be at the mall.

A man and woman head out the front doors together. They’re smiling at each other, holding hands. She seems excited about whatever she’s holding in a black plastic shopping bag and stops to kiss him right there in the parking lot. The kiss is deep and goes on way longer than necessary, until I start to feel awkward watching. Anton and I don’t kiss like that—not anymore. I know we did once. Maybe these two are newlyweds. I’m sure they’ll settle down in a few years, just like us. The kiss finally ends, and they break apart, letting go of each other long enough to climb into their car. It’s clear no matter what they bought, they’re going to be busy tonight.

Maybe this is stupid. Nothing sold inside this store is going to magically save my marriage. But I’ve gotten nowhere on my own the past two weeks. Maybe Caprice is right and I need some help. Anton clearly wants something more physical, but I don’t know how to give it to him.

I adjust my sunglasses and check my phone as I approach the entrance, trying extra hard to look casual. Like I’m just running in for a specific something because I’ve been here a million times and I’m not at all intimidated by whatever lies inside.

The door beeps loudly when I walk in, and that’s almost enough to make me turn right around and run for my car. I take a quick look at my surroundings. I’m not sure what I was expecting—dark, seedy corners and used condoms on the floor? The place is super clean and brightly lit, very much like a mall. Two girls are working behind a counter, there are several display areas, and a set of stairs leading up to a second floor. A few other patrons are wandering around, but it’s far from crowded.

I veer off to one side, trying to look casual by a Fifty Shades-themed display. There are blindfolds, riding crops, and handcuffs. I examine a ball wrapped with adjustable leather straps, wondering if it’s some kind of fashion accessory until I glance at the tag and realize it’s a gag. My eyes widen. Would my husband want to use this?

A man strolls past me and I step away from the display, not wanting to give the impression that I’m into whips and chains. I glance around the store, trying to decide whether to just grab a bunch of leather or zero in on a sale section full of leftovers from Valentine’s Day, but then I turn and find myself face-to-face with one of the female employees. She’s a white girl with these Bettie Page bangs, a septum nose ring, and some elaborate cat-eye makeup. She also has an incredibly warm smile.

“Hello. Did you need help finding anything?” she asks.

“I...no. I’m just...browsing.” My face is so hot, I think my head might burst into flames. This was a bad idea. If she’d just step aside, I could run out of here, but she’s directly between me and the door.

“We have a nice selection of couples’ toys,” she says, eyeing the rings on my finger. “Do you know what you’re interested in, or would you like me to show you some things?”

“I...I don’t know,” I sputter. “Can you just point me toward stuff that most men like?”

I’ll buy anything she puts in my hand. As long as it gets me out of here fast.

She taps her lip, and I notice a tattoo of a cat curled on her shoulder. She lowers her voice. “Can I ask a few questions?”

I glance around. The only other patron is the guy I nearly ran into by Fifty Shades, but he’s on the other side of the store now. “Questions?”

She smiles. Her name tag says Daphne, and I try to remember if this is the girl Caprice said she knew. “What kinds of toys do you already have at home?”

I almost say “dog toys.” I have to suppress a burst of nervous laughter, taking a breath and digging my nails into my palms until I can get back under control. “Um...we don’t really have much.”

“Like, just one or two basics?”

I stare at the chunky Mary Janes on her feet, trying not to feel stupid. “Like none.”

“Oh, got it.” She straightens, but her voice doesn’t falter. “Okay, come with me.”

She leads me up the stairs, past a display of exotic-looking nightwear, over to a wide table decorated with a variety of items in colorful shapes.

I come to a halt. “Are those?—”

“Have you ever used a vibrator?” she asks.

“Well, I mean . . .”

That would be a firm no. God, just a second ago I was almost too embarrassed to walk into this store. And now I’m mortified to admit to someone who works with sex toys all day long that I’ve never so much as touched one. Caprice and several of my other friends have vibrators aplenty—I know because they come up in conversation like toothbrushes and TV remotes—but each of them has also spent long stretches of time single. I have nothing against this kind of “accessory,” I’m sure they work great. I just always thought they were more for people flying solo.

“Are you able to achieve vaginal orgasms?” Daphne asks.

“I’m sorry?” I nearly choke answering her blunt question.

She had been reaching for a rubbery purple thing right in front of us, but pauses and withdraws her hand. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to assume. Let me back up. Are you able to achieve any orgasms?”

My eyes shift quickly around the room, resting on the table of bright phallic shapes, like I’m in some weird Freudian dream. My voice is nearly a whisper. “Um...yes.”

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