Page 40 of Too Late

“Nope. Died when I was two.”That’s a lie. He died three years ago.

“Well that’s your first problem. You were raised by a woman.”

“That’s a problem?”

He nods. “You learned about life from a woman. Lots of men do, it’s fine. But that’s what’s wrong with most men. Men need to learn from men. We work differently than society leads women to believe.”

I don’t respond. I wait for him to continue this rare display of charitablegenius.

“Men weren’t designed by nature to be monogamous. It’s engrained in us to spread our seed. To keep the population going. We’re breeders by default, and no matter what society tries to force upon us, we’ll be breeders until we kill ourselves off. That’s why we’re so fucking horny all the time.”

I glance to my left, at two older women whose mouths are hung open, eavesdropping on Asa’s definition of the male species.

“Women are the ones who give birth,” I point out. “Are they not also considered breeders? Would it not also be in their chemical makeup to populate the world?”

He shakes his head. “They’re nurturers. It’s their duty to keep the species alive. Not to create it. Besides, women aren’t into sex like men are.”

I wish I were recording this.“They aren’t?”

“Fuck no. They crave the expression of thoughts … emotions … feelings. They want to form a bond … a lifelong connection. That’s why they push for marriage, because it’s in their biological makeup to crave a protector. A provider. They need stability, a home, a place to raise their children. Women don’t have physical cravings like we do. So it’s only fair that we create the families for the women, but we also need an outlet to partake in our natural urges. When men fuck around, it’s different than when the women fuck around.”

I nod my head like I’m understanding his philosophy, but it’s making me ill for Sloan. “So in your opinion, women don’t have a biological excuse to sleep with more than one man. But men do?”

He nods. “Exactly. When a man cheats, it’s purely physical. We’re attracted to a woman’s hips, to her legs, to her ass, to her tits. It’s all about the sexual act. Dick in, dick out. When awomancheats, it’s purely mental. They’re turned on by emotions. By their feelings. If a woman fucks a man, it’s not because she’s horny. It’s because she wants him to love her. That’s why I fuck around on Sloan. And that’s why Sloan is not allowed to fuck around on me. Cheating for a man is different than cheating for a woman, and that’s a fact, proven by Mother Nature herself.”

Holy fuck. People like this actually exist. God help us.

“And Sloan is okay with this?”

Asa laughs. “That’s the thing, Carter. Women don’t understand because they aren’t made like us. That’s why men were also given the distinct ability to lie so well.”

I smile, when all I’d really like to do is reach across the table and put an end to his ability to breed—an end to his ability to create life that might turn out like him.

“So what role do the mistresses play in all this?” I ask.

He smiles sickeningly. “That’s why God made the whores, Carter.”

I force a smile. He’s right about one thing—I can definitely lie well. “So the whores are for nature and the wives are for nurture.”

Asa smiles proudly, like he actually taught me something. He lifts his beer. “Cheers to that.” We clink our beers together and he takes a sip. “My father used to say something similar to that.”

“Is he still alive?”

Asa nods, but I notice the sudden tightness in his jaw. “Yeah. Somewhere.”

Our food arrives, but I’m not sure I feel like eating after that twisted lecture on Darwinism.

I definitely don’t feel like eating now that I know I’ll be seeing Sloan tonight.At her fucking engagement party.

“You should give a toast tonight.”

I pause, mid-chew. “Excuse me?”

Asa takes a sip of his beer. “Tonight,” he says, setting it back down on the table. “At the party. You should give a toast after I announce the engagement. You can string a sentence together better than any other fucker that’ll be there. Make me look good. Sloan will eat that shit up.”

I force the food down my throat. “I’d be honored.”

Motherfucker.

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