Page 76 of The Worst Guy Ever
“Secret wife you’ve neglected to mention?”
“Also no.”
“Housemate?”
This could go on all night. “What are you really asking?”
“Your bathroom cabinet is full of women’s toiletries,” she huffs then pouts her perfect lips. I try not to laugh.
“You’ve been snooping?”
“Yes. Don’t avoid the question.”
“Eat and I’ll explain.” I push her bowl into her hands and hold out a fork which she takes, begrudgingly. “I don’t ever want anyone to feel uncomfortable here, so I keep a supply of stuff guests might need. It’s no big deal. You can use anything you like.”
“You bring women here?”
“Sometimes.” I perch on the edge of the bed and eat too. “Depends on the vibe. I’ll bring them here if I get the impression they’ll want to leave soon after. If they’re the type who’ll want to cuddle for a bit afterwards I’ll suggest we go to hers instead. I don’t like doing the whole morning after thing here. Do you bring guys back to your place?”
She drags out her answer while she eats. “Never. I always go to their house. Or ideally a hotel.”
“Why don’t you bring them home?”
“I don’t want them knowing where I live if they can’t take the hint,” she says, taking another mouthful and moaning around her fork. “God, this is good. Plus Megan is a sweet angel, I don’t need her knowing what a filthbag I am.”
“I have a feeling she probably already knows,” I nudge her thigh and eat some more. “Wait, does that mean I can’t come to yours?”
“Never, we have to meet here. Also because I really like these sheets. They’re so soft.”
“This is what it’s like when you sleep with men, not teenagers.”
“Piss off. The nineteen year old paid for a hotel I’ll have you know.”
“Aww, with his birthday money?” I tease.
“He was great actually. Very receptive to feedback.”
“Yeah, because he was a beginner just learning the ropes. Now you have a man who knows what he’s doing.” I slide my hand, warm from the bowl, up the inside of her leg. “Who has spent his life mastering the art of pleasuring a woman.”
“Give it up, you sound like a cult leader.”
“Some women have described my penis as a religious experience.”
“Stop it before I throw up this excellent food.”
I take the compliment, and let her finish her dinner in peace. When we’re both done, I take everything downstairs, load the dishwasher, wipe down the counters and head back upstairs with a glass of water. Nothing about this feels unusual. If anything, it’s kind of nice knowing she’s up there waiting for me. Even nicer knowing she’s not running.
Back in my bed, I roll onto my side and face her, one hand propping up my head. “So tell me about these ground rules of yours. They sound pretty serious.”
Hattie is the opposite of relaxed. She sits up straight, crosses her legs and stretches out her neck as if this is about to be a major effort for her. “I just think it’s smart to be clear about expectations and capacity.”
“You’re not at work, Hattie, tell me what you really mean.”
“OK, number one. This is just two people helping each other out if it’s late at night and we have an itch to scratch. We don’t need to meet up or go out or anything.”
“What if it’s an early morning itch?” I stroke my thumb over her knee while she takes me through the rules I know I’m about to have a great time breaking.
“Mornings are for sleeping.”
