Page 60 of Spark

A thudding sound from the next room jolts me from my memory. It’s the sound of heavy weights thudding to the ground.

I shake off the long-ago, illicit images in my head and return to my suitcase. After a bit, I get to a small, purple bag—one that’s filled with all my nighttime stuff, like birth control pills, migraine meds, lip balm, lube, earbuds, and my vibrator, Bruno. Obviously, I’ll need to wait for Kendrick to be out of his house to use Bruno while I’m staying here. But whenever those rare opportunities arise, I’m sure I’ll want to have him, and the rest of this stuff, close by, rather than stowed away in the dresser.

I stride toward the nightstand to put the bag away. But before I reach my destination, I remember Bruno probably needs to be charged. I sit on the edge of the bed and pull Bruno out. When I flip his switch, I get nothing. He’s dead as a doornail.I put him down next to me and rummage around in the bag, quickly finding his charging cord.

After a quick scan for outlets, I notice a lamp on Kendrick’s nightstand that seems to be plugged in behind the furniture, so I formulate the plan to plug in Bruno back there, while discreetly placing him on the floor behind the nightstand. But first, I open the drawer of the nightstand, intending to stow my little purple bag.

Whoa. Inside, there’s a variety of interesting items: condoms, lube, and soft handcuffs—the kind people use during kinky sex. All of it makes my eyebrows ride up and my heart rate increase. But none of it more so than the most exciting item in the drawer: Kendrick’s lyrics notebook.

My heart thrumming, I peek at the empty doorframe of Kendrick’s bedroom. And when the coast is clear, I drop everything in my hands onto the bed next to Bruno, take the journal out of the drawer, and quickly start flipping pages in search of those raunchy lyrics for “Spank.” Granted, it’s a violation of Kendrick’s privacy for me to be doing this. I know that. But on the other hand, he did tell me to treat this place as my home. And when I’m home, nothing’s off limits to me. Okay, yes, I’m playing mental gymnastics here. But the truth is, I simply can’t resist.

I can’t find it. Did he tear it out?

“You little sneak!”

I look up, and two seconds later, a glistening, sweaty, half-naked Kendrick rips the journal out of my hands, the same way he did in that hotel room in Vancouver.Damn.

“Well, I guess that answers that question,” I deadpan. “You haven’t ripped out the ‘Spank’ pages.”

With the journal in one hand, Kendrick crosses his arms over his bare chest, and his tattooed biceps bulge. “You’re a bad girl, Ruby. A very bad girl.”

Meow.That was kind of hot, actually. “Such a bad girl,” Iagree. “What are you going to do about it? Spank me?” I’ve meant it as a joke. A callback to what he wrote about in his journal. But the blush that overtakes Kendrick’s face makes me blush, as well.

“I didn’t go looking for your journal, by the way. I opened that drawer looking for a place to . . .” I trail off when I notice Kendrick staring with laser-focus at the hot-pink dildo on the mattress next to me. “Oh. Kendrick, meet Bruno,” I quip. “Bruno, this is Kendrick. Finally, my two favorite men meet each other.”

Kendrick chuckles. “You were looking for a place to what? Put your massive, pink dildo?”

“Cover your ears, Bruno.” I waggle my finger at Kendrick and fake-whisper, “Don’t body shame him. He’s sensitive about his size and color.” As Kendrick chuckles, I pick up my dildo and say, “Bruno, don’t feel ashamed. There’s nothing shameful about masturbation. Or being big and pink. You do a valuable service, when you do me.” I snicker. “Or, rather, as the famed lyricist Kendrick Cook calls it, when you spank my monkey.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I am. There’s no denying it. But the fact that I happened upon your journal, by chance, when I was innocently looking for a place to put some things, feels like a sign from the universe that you should letme read it. Don’t you agree?”

“I do not.”

“Come on, KC. Surely, in my shoes, you would have done the same thing.”

“No, I would have respected the privacy of the person who’d said, explicitly, ‘Don’t look at this.’”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know it’s a moot point, anyway, because, unfortunately, I didn’t find ‘Spank’ before you barged in here and ruined my fun.” I gasp. “Were you spying?” I look around. “Is there a nanny-cam in here? I wouldn’t put it pastyou, with those handcuffs in your nightstand. What’s that about, hot stuff?”

“Exactly what you think. And no, I wasn’t spying on you. My earbuds died, so I came back for my other pair. Now, stop trying to make a good offense your best defense, and apologize.”

“I’m sorry. I had a moment of weakness. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me at this point.”

“Smart man. But I really do mean it this time.”

“You didn’t mean it last time?”

“No, I did. I just couldn’t resist.”

“I think that’s even worse.”

“Is it, though?”

He crosses his muscular arms over his bare chest and lets out a tsk. “You really are a monster, aren’t you?”

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