it.”
We sit in silence for a while. I manage a few bites of curry
before he pipes up again.
“So you live in Point Loma?”
I wince. He’s asking about Max, indirectly, and as much as I
hate Renee pretending to be my mother, this line of questioning won’t end well.
“Used to,” I say.
“Had a fight?”
“Not exactly.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
It’s a genuine relief that he seems interested in my
feelings about the situation instead of barging in with unhelpful advice like
all of my friends. “Not really,” I say. “Thanks, though.”
“Do you need a place to stay?” he asks.
“What?”
“Do you need a place to stay?” he says again. “I’ve got a
spare bedroom in the place I’m renting – two, actually. The unit I signed for
ended up having a completely rotten floor so they upgraded me to a three
bedroom two bath for free.”
“For how long?” I ask.
“The other unit will take at least three months to fix,” he
says. “You can stay with me until then for free. It’s no trouble.”
“I, uh—“
“Where are you now?”
“With a friend,” I say.
“Bed or couch?”
“Couch.”
“My unit is furnished,” he says.
“Where is it?” I ask. It doesn’t matter, he’s won me over.
As much as Renee says I’m not interfering I can tell that she wants to claim
her place as her own again. Besides, I’ve got a crick on my neck from sleeping
on her couch.
“National city,” he says.
I frown.
“It’s nice. You’ll be surprised,” he says.
“I can’t complain about a free bed,” I say.
Renee’s advice comes to mind, unbidden. Don’t fuck him ,
she said. Easier done than said, I tell myself, but I have been missing Max a
lot at night, and Jeremy will be just a few feet away. Maybe he’s gay or
something. Besides, why should I listen to Renee? I’m fully capable of making
my own decisions.
10
I don’t make it to nightfall. Hell, I barely make it an hour
past lunch before I’m sneaking Jeremy out of the building for a little
investigative reporting of the most intimate nature. As much as I tell myself
otherwise it’s all my doing – he’s the one putting up a token resistance and
acting surprised. I’m calling the shots.
I’m not entirely sure why I’m doing this. Part of it is
because Renee told me not to, undoubtedly, but I’m smart enough to realize that
rebound sex isn’t usually a good idea. Maybe I just want to fill that sudden
emptiness in my life, to feel wanted. Max dumped me, after all. I need to prove
to myself that I’m desirable. This is why I’m ripping off Jeremy’s clothes on
top of Renee’s couch (she lives like a block away from work) and forcing myself
on top of him. To feel loved.
Predictably, he’s not quite as into the entire thing as I
am.
“Look, this is great and all but can’t we wait until after
work?” he says.
“Why?” I ask, slipping a hand in his boxers.
“Because… Phil… work?” he manages. I’m almost impressed; I
can be quite distracting when I want to be.
“I wouldn’t worry,” I say, leaning in to kiss him in between
sentences. “We just got done with a big article. We don’t need to write
anything for another couple of days.”
“What if someone sees us?”
“Like who?” I ask. My hand clearly isn’t distracting enough,
so I tug his boxers the rest of the way off and start teasing him with my
mouth.
“That guy,” he says, pointing.
I turn to look. There’s a guy walking with a bunch of
flowers in hand outside, visible in between the slits of the blinds. I can’t
get a look at his face but there’s no way Will would wear that jacket, which
means Jeremy and I are in the clear. He’s probably visiting the old lady next
door.
“And why would he bother us?” I ask, redoubling my efforts
to take Jeremy’s attention.
There’s a knock on the door.
Jeremy looks at me with an expression halfway between ‘I
told you so’ and ‘oh my god I’m going to die’ which
Learning to Kill: Stories