Page 43 of The Idiot

He wants to watch dancing? That wouldn’t have been my first guess, but if that’s what Murph wants, that’s what Murph will get.

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. The Baloney and Jesse Show rides again. It’ll be fun.”

Geez. He could at least pretend to look excited. One day, I’ll prove to him I don’t care what we do, as long as we’re together. Everything is always better when we’re together.

CHAPTER 12

Murphy

I thought that a two-hour workout followed by a steamy shower session riding the wall dildo I packed would sap all my foolish desires for one day. I was wrong. So very,verywrong.

Seeing Jesse dive deeper into ‘my world’ only makes me want to attain the unattainable even more, to imagine that we could share a life. And it’s my own damn fault.

Maybe I should have elaborated about what type of dance show this was. The awestruck look on his face is messing with my head. Why can’t I ever say no to him? I sure as shit wish I had this time because I never in a million years would have imagined that he’d be enjoying a male strip show.

Beaming, he glances back at me and chuckles as if to ask, ‘Are you seeing this?’ He’s on his damn feet, bopping in time with the music, his beer in one hand, the other in the air, cheering on the dancers with everyone else in the ballroom. He freaking fits right in while my ass is planted in this seat in shock.

A dancer saunters closer to our table, wriggling his hips in time to the thump of the music. Peeling off his crop top, he spins it around and tosses it, hitting Jesse in the face.

I hold my breath, waiting for his breaking point, but when he pulls the thin fabric away, he’s cackling and lets out awhoop!Hell.I’ve created a monster.

Of course, he likes it. He’s probably in awe over the fact that men can actually strip too and that it doesn’t have to be to rock hits of the 80s. However, Lil Nas X’s ‘That’s What I Want’ is doing fuck all for my resolve to ditch silly notions of Jesse and me as a couple.

“Hey! I’m going to get another drink,” I shout.An ice-cold drink that I hope I spill in my lap, I don’t add. “Do you want anything?”

“No! I’m good. Man, these guys are awesome! I can’t wait to tell the girls when we get home.”

Of course. The girls. That’s the only reason he’s into this life experience.

Sighing, I wade my way through the tables and the crowd over to the bar. I couldn’t wait to get away from home when I was there, but now I can’t wait to get back. At least, at home, I’ll have Mom, Auggie, and Breathless to distract me from all the reasons why I like Jesse Carver.

Winter is an idle time on the orchard once I get the pruning done, though. I’ll need more than Breathless reruns and ice fishing to drown out my misery. I’m bound to see even more of Jesse than I do during the summer and fall. It will be an ice-cold hell. Maybe instead of finding someone for myself, I should find someone for him, someone who wants him all to themselves.

While the idea makes me nauseous, I know it’s for the best. He’s a black hole, slowly swallowing me up the longer I’m around him while I’m like this. The only thing that could pull him from my clutches is the female equivalent of Philip.

“Not into the show?” a voice to my right calls.

Glancing over, I take in the guy next to me who’s leaning on the bar. His T-shirt clings to his tan arms like a second skin. He’s thick, but I don’t miss the muscle tone in that thickness—all the way down to his snug-fitting jeans. With his dark hair and the dark lashes surrounding those storm cloud-gray eyes, he is without a doubt handsome as all get out, but… he’s not Jesse Carver.

“Nah, it’s, um… it’s great. I just needed a breather.”

His mouth ticks up at the corner in silent understanding as he takes a sip of his beer.

Waiting on the bartender, I don’t realize I’ve let out a sigh until I hear the man’s voice again. “Having a bad day?”

After Philip, I should probably be wary of anyone who takes an interest in me, but something about this guy says he’s this mellow all the time. I can’t see him following me around and pawing at me like I’m a cat tree he wants to climb.

“A bad month, actually,” I let out on a sardonic laugh, so I don’t sound like I’m about to unload my woes on him. “Turns out vacations don’t exactly make you forget your problems.”

Chuckling, he nods. “They should put that disclaimer in the advertisements.” Sighing, he straightens up, stretching out his back with one hand above his belt line. “I travel all the time for work. I don’t know why I made myself fly all the way across the country for recreation.”

“West coast?”

“Yeah. Well, not on the coast. Bend, Oregon. You’ve probably never heard of it. It’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere.”

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