Page 44 of Deeply Examined

“Really?” I ask her, curious to hear more. “That long?”

She swirls red wine in her glass. “My husband, Jeremy, went to medical school with him and then they did their residency together. Now they’re in the same practice. All those years, he’s only come out alone.”

I flush, feeling special that he choseme, then remind myself that this evening is for West’s benefit.

Not mine.

This isn’t even arealdate.

“I was starting to think he was asexual, which would be such a waste of that gorgeous body, when he finally told me he likes acertainkind of woman.” She eyes me shrewdly, waiting for my reaction.

“What kind of woman?” I ask, wondering what that could mean.

A dominant? A submissive? Young or old?

The possibilities are endless.

A shrug of her slim shoulders, “He wouldn’t say. I’m surprised I got that much out of him. You know how he is.”

I sigh and nod because Idoknow.

She takes a sip of wine and stares at me over the rim of the glass. “He is incredible at his job, though. So smart and good in the OR. Do you know what he’s known for in the office? What he does best?”

I shake my head no and lean closer, curious to learn more about my sexy housemate.

“Mental health,” she says. “That man has a sixth sense for when one of our patients is struggling. He can spot postpartum depression a mile away. Makes three times more referrals to therapists and counselors than the rest of our physicians.”

“That’s amazing,” I say, remembering how West told me his theory about how helping moms is the best way to help kids.

“Is he good in bed?” she asks, giving me whiplash with her sudden change of topic. “Please tell me he is.Allthe ladies in the office have a bet that he’s fantastic.”

My shoulders stiffen. “I don’t think that’s any of your—”

She continues on as if she can’t hear me. “I mean, I love Jeremy, but he has a tiny dick.”

It’s a good thing my dress is red, so it hides the drops of wine that I spit out. “Ex—excuse me?”

Tracy explains patiently, “It’s like one of those little sausages in a can. What’re they called?”

“Vienna sausage?” I venture cautiously.Surely she’s not comparing her husband’s penis to a piece of lunch meat!

“Yes!” Tracy places her wine glass on a nearby table. “That’s it. How short are those?”

“Umm.” I hold up my hand and make a pinching motion with my fingers. “This small.”

She shakes her head sadly. “He tries, poor man, but there’s only so much you can do with a Vienna cock. How’s West? Hung like a horse?”

I have a sudden vivid recollection of West taking me from behind in his office. How the wood of his desk rubbed my cheek raw as he thrust into me. My face burns with the memory.

Tracy notices right away. “Aha!” she crows. “Knew it. Are you in health care too?”

“I’m a teacher. High-school math. I’m out at Southfield High.”

“Isn’t that in South Side? Like the bad part?”

I nod. “Yeah. It’s a Title One school, meaning most of the students are well below the poverty line.”

“Yikes. That sounds rough.”

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