Blurred

She tugs me toward the bed, but I stay where I am.

“Where’s the booze?” I ask.

“Above the refrigerator in the kitchen. I’ll get it for you.”

“No, I’ll get it. What do you say you lay down and get yourself wet for me?”

She laughs. But when she asks, “Do you want me to use my hand?” I almost get whiplash. One minute she’s giving the orders and the next she’s asking for mine.

I leave her on the bed with her fingers circling her clit. The floor tiles are cold on my bare feet as I make my way back to the small kitchen and find a bottle of Jack. Perfect. I open a few cupboards and grab two glasses. Pour and drink. Pour and drink. Pour again. Now, I’m ready.

I take the two amber filled glasses and head back to the bedroom. She’s lying down with her feet on the floor still going at it. I stand there, watching her.

She catches me and smiles. “My fingers are so wet right now. I think I’m ready.”

I knock back another shot and set both glasses down on the nightstand. I grab my shorts, snatch a condom out of my wallet, and roll it on. I’m ready, too.

When we finish, I stand up. “Where’s the bathroom?”

She points to a door on the other side of the room. I scoop up my shorts and hit it. Running my tongue over my lip, I taste sweat . . . it tastes good. I feel good. The water runs and I reach for the soap. It’s shaped like a dolphin and it throws me a bit. I use it to scrub my hands and then throw some water on my face. When my eyes scour the counter for a towel, I notice a cartoon toothbrush on it. I swivel my head around the small space and see a fish shaped step stool and an octopus bathmat. ABC foam letters line the tub. Shit, did I just fuck some kid’s mother?

The room is bright when I open the door and she’s still lying on the bed. I toss her the towel I found and shrug my shirt on before coming to stand over her, pulling the blanket over her naked body. “Do you have a kid?”

She pushes up on her elbows. “Yes, Jacob. He’s five. He’s with his dad today.”

I have to swallow. I feel like a shit. “Hey, you probably shouldn’t bring strange men over to your house. It’s a bad habit,” I tell her. Not that she has to worry about me, but you never know about other men and I’d hate for anything to happen to her or her kid. But it really isn’t my business.

“We went to high school together. You aren’t a stranger.”

I start to tell her she doesn’t know a thing about me, but let it go. I glance around the room and feel like the air is being sucked from the lungs.

She tugs on my hand. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just thinking it’s time I head out if you’re cool with that.”

“Sure, you want my number?”

“Buckley. Right? Dawn Buckley?”

She nods.

“I’ll look you up when I’m back in town.”

It’s clear she thinks I’m feeding her a line. “Oh, you’re leaving Laguna?”

“Yes, I think I am. It’s time for me to get the hell out of here.”

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