Page 41 of Sorrow

“How’s your ass feeling?”

Better than the rest of me right now. I’ll never understand why I always feel so off around Hayes now — he doesn’t have to say anything and I still feel like I’m ready to crawl out of my own skin. Like I’m doing something embarrassing or wrong, he just won’t say it.

“It’s fine. I can still feel you.”

“Good.” His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he pulls into the uneven parking lot, and when he parks, I catch him adjusting himself. “Ready?”

Not even close, but I get out of the truck anyway. The faster I get this over with, the better.

The inside of Pandora’s Box looks exactly like I expected it to — grimy walls that once were white, sticky tile floors, and posters of grossly muscular men objectifying fake-titted women covering nearly every inch of available space. The shelves are stacked with toys, restraints, DVDs, old school VHS tapes, and not a whole lot of lingerie.

At first, I think the moaning I hear is coming from a tv. Maybe a porno or one of those weird roleplay games — but no. It abruptly stops, and a few moments later a man walks out of a side room and buckles his pants.

Holy shit. I’d heard rumors you could pay for sex here, but didn’t know it was real.

My cheeks flame with heat as I walk past an aisle full of dildos the size of my leg, but it’s the fuck machine in the corner that has me tripping over my feet.

Hayes has been watching me since the moment we walked in. He’s pretended towindow shop the entire time, but it’s blatantly obvious I’ve had his attention when he reaches out and catches me before I even begin to fall. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

“Ideas? What ideas? I don’t have any ideas,” I mumble, acutely aware of how much of his body is touching mine. “But I wish I'd known that existed a few weeks ago.”

“Don’t insult us both by saying you would have considered it over me.”

I would’ve, before I knew. “Oh, you can’t imagine me picking a machine that can’t talk over a man who’s made a living out of making me cry?”

“You never cried,” he argues, but I can practically see the memories flashing through his mind. “Why would you cry, anyway? You hated me. Who cared what I said?”

“I cared a lot... until I didn’t anymore,” I admit quietly. “I didn’t have anyone but you and Boo and you both hated me. Eventually I grew up and realized that it was easier not to care. So I stopped.”

He walks away slightly, nodding his head in thought before he spins back around. “Boo never hated you, Samara.”

But you did.

“It’s in the past, Hayes. Let’s find something and get out of here, yeah? I toldmy brother I’d cook before he goes back to work.”

“Right.”

He moves to stand behind me like a fucking bodyguard as I skim the very few options they have, moving right past anything with tassels on it.

Yikes.

There’s a little black one piece with scooped sides and a mesh bra I think I’d look stunning in, but I put it back in favor of the only one here that can be considered pink.

It’s not exactly a pretty shade or a flattering cut, but I don’t seem to have a choice. “This one?”

“Sure.” Hayes shrugs like he’s bored, making me irritated as I stomp my way up to the cash register, and after the first beep he shoves the black one I considered onto the countertop. “That too. Oh, you need extra small condoms for Nate, right?”

“Extra small is better than none,” I point out, handing the lady enough cash to cover both. “I’m surprised you even know what they are.”

Hayes snatches the cash out of her hand so rudely I apologize on his behalf. “I’m paying. You’re not using this cash on lingerie for another fucking guy.”

The lady blushes slightly at his intensity and takes his card, making me apologize for a second time.

“So you’re buying me lingerie for another man?” I ask. “That’s so much better.”

“Don’t over analyze it. You’ll get a headache.”

He’s the one who looks like he has a headache as we take our leave, but I don’t get a chance to push him on it.

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