Page 39 of Bad Seed
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SADIE
I don’t know what I’m doing.
Instead of checking my shopping list, I’m stranded in front of the sauces aisle staring at his texts. Again.
All of yesterday I played it cool. I went about my day like everything was perfectly normal. Do my job, be friendly with the customers, try to avoid thereallyfriendly ones. Smile. And try to not think about how I just left the hottest man alive. When I wasn’t itching my hives under my polo.
I didn’t make a single text to him, leaving the possibility of more in his court. Not a “Good night” or a “hope you slept well” or even a mess of eggplant emojis after a thirsty “u up?”
I can’t shake the feeling that I completely blew it without knowing why.
“Hey stranger!”
I finally tear my eyes away from his last text before our date as Lucy waves to me. She pulls her cart to the side and parks. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Getting more peanut butter. I think. Crap, let me check.” I pull up my list, but Lucy stops me.
“Shouldn’t you be in a helicopter on its way to Paris sucking some Adonis billionaire cock?”
An older lady gasps, but Lucy just stares her down. “What?” she shouts as the woman rams her cart into a display of crackers while trying to turn around and shooting us dirty looks. “Like you wouldn’t if you could. So…?”
“I don’t think he’s a billionaire,” I say as an excuse. It’s not like I wouldn’t be willing.
“Psh.” Lucy waves her hand. “Semantics. He’s rich, hot, and…did you seriously do it seven times?”
“Eight,” I admit, blushing not from shame but pride. The way he stared at me as I was leaving, I half expected it to be nine.
Then…crickets.
“No guy fucks that many times without wanting to at least hit an even ten. We’re talking here!” Lucy shouts at a man shoving around us to get to the cookies. “So…why are you here and not chained up in his bed? Lube’s over in aisle 15.”
“I’m…” I don’t know, but I have my suspicions. He’s rich, he’s hot, he obviously gets off on spreading the big girl on his cock. But that doesn’t mean he wants to beseenwith her. “I’m starting to think you want to live vicariously through me.”
“If any rich, jacked men want to hammer me all night, I’d sign my life away on the dotted line.”
She’s not going to let this go. “He…he hasn’t texted me back.” As if I need to prove my reality, I show her the last message. “I’m sure he’s super busy.” Being an unemployed bouncer. That really eats into the day.
“Nothing? Not even an ‘I want to make you my sex slave. My lawyer is sending over the contracts tomorrow’?”
“That’s what I thought was going to happen,” I admit to her, almost hopeful I can manifest it into reality. But nope. I’m just the girl who got one great night and then was ghosted. “Who knows? Maybe he’s doing business things in Milan or other fancy business cities.”
Lucy gives me such a stare, I nervously scratch at my hives. They get two good itches before I stop and take a deep breath. Not only does that make it worse, touching myself there reminds me of him coming all over me. So I’m left both sad and horny at the same time.
“I can’t figure out what set this one off.” It’s been persistent like an allergy attack, but I haven’t eaten anything to piss it off. “It’s not like clothes are made out of eggplants. Maybe it’s in a soap. I did get a new one that was on sale. It has hyaluronic acid in it. Could I be allergic to that?”
“Sade. Stop. People are looking.”
My nervous itching finally stops, and I peer around the aisle. People are glaring all right, but not just at me trying to claw my skin off. “Should we move?” I ask.
“What’d he say?” Lucy tramples over me, forcing everyone to backtrack. “When you left? Was there an ‘I had a good time?’”
“Yes.” I nearly sigh. The way he’d leaned against the doorframe in his gray sweatpants with dawn’s light glistening across his bare chest was a scene worthy of an oil painting.
“‘Let’s do this again?’”
“Ye… No.” I stare over at my friend, who’s no longer looking at me. “He didn’t say that.”
