Page 37 of Come Back to Bed
“Oh, I like to hang out down there,” he says, in a tone of voice that makes me wonder which “down there” he’s referring to. “I’ve just been avoiding going down there lately.”
I don’t turn around to look at him, because I don’t think I could handle it if he’s staring back at me, and also because my eyes are bulging out of their sockets. “Umm…You mean because of your girlfriend?”
“Ex-girlfriend.”
“Did she get in touch with you at all? After this morning?” He doesn’t respond while I’m pouring the detergent into the detergent drawer, while I close the detergent drawer, or while I check my pockets for the quarters that I forgot to bring. I swear under my breath.
When I turn to ask him if I can borrow some from him, he is right there, two inches from me. There are four quarters in the palm of his large, capable, open hand.
“Thank you.” I watch him as he reaches around me to drop the quarters into the slots. He notices me shivering.
“Cold?”
No, I just had another orgasm zap while watching you insert things into slots.“Yeah. It’s chilly down here.”
“Cold water? You have to choose your settings.”
“I do know how to operate a washing machine.”
“Proceed.”
He steps back to the other washing machine and re-crosses his arms. He’s never going to answer that question I asked about his ex-girlfriend, so I’ll ask another one.
“How’d you meet her? Vanessa? If you don’t mind my asking.”
He looks down at his feet and scratches his head. “At work.”
“Really?” That’s surprising. “Isn’t she a model?”
“She is now. I mean, she was doing some modeling when we first met, but just to pay for law school.”
“Oh. So she’s a lawyer? A model slash lawyer?”A unicorn. Your ex-girlfriend is a fucking unicorn with perfect bangs and you’re here in a laundry room with me on a Saturday night?
“She never ended up becoming a lawyer. She didn’t finish law school because the modeling jobs became so lucrative. So now she’s just a model.”
She’s just a model. I finally start the load and turn to face him. He’s still staring at his feet. Still having feelings about his ex-girlfriend. Mixed feelings, I’m sure, but feelings nonetheless.
“She must miss Daisy.”
He snorts. “I’m sure she must.”
“Have you been seeing other people?”
“Otherpeople?”
“Anyone?”
He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly.
“Fooling around?”
“Is that a request?” He smirks, big time, revealing a dimple.
Where the hell did you come from, dimple?
“When I request something from you, Esquire, you’ll know it.”
Dimple’s staying put, and I will take that as a ‘no’ to my question.
