“I like you,” I retorted stubbornly.
“It’s not the same. She makes you feel something in here and that freaks you out a little.” Leah placed her hand on my chest, right over my heart. My hands had stilled on her breasts. “But it feels good to feel something in here, right?” She stepped to one side, moving away from my touch, carefully righting her clothes.
“Leah,” I growled. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to want to fuck her, badly. But it wasn’t there and Leah knew it. I was trying to prove something and to who, I wasn’t sure.
“Decker, she might be it.” Leah looked at me with soft eyes, her expression pensive. Leah and I had had this conversation many times, the enigma of it, the one thing that would make everything else lackluster and tasteless, the one thing that would sway us from the indulgent and wicked world of adult film. Neither of us would take on a serious companion while we did this job, yet neither of us was prepared to give up the job to find that person. Talk about screwed up, Leah and I were poster girl and boy for emotionally fucked up porn stars.
“Don’t get me wrong, Decker, you can screw like nobody’s business, but this job isn’t you.” She looked at me seriously. “Melody isn’t the only woman on set who would do anything to be yours off set. You are sweet with all us girls, caring, and funny. We don’t call you the Prince of Porn just because of that,” she said, pointing at my groin. “It’s kinda cute when you try to be an asshole, but at the end of the day, you can’t help yourself, Decker, you’re a good guy, a true prince.” I rolled my eyes as Leah strutted towards the door. I wasn’t disappointed she was walking away from me. I was disappointed I didn’t want her like I needed her. “I heard you signed on with The Bishop,” she said as she pulled the door open. I nodded. “Whoever she is, Decker, give her a chance, give it a chance. The job won’t be there forever. While you’re one stunning man, you are no Hugh Hefner. When you’re dick shrivels up and your hair falls out, you’re gonna want a woman by your side, a good woman. Don’t let anything stop the chances of meeting her get in your way.” With that parting piece of advice, she left. The thought of my dick shriveling up and my hair falling out made me feel slightly ill. I had to hand it to Leah, when she gets all philosophical and shit, she leaves your thoughts chaotic. Right now, mine were a fucking mess.
*
“I don’t know, Decker, that looks expensive. I’m not sure if I can afford it,” Andi said nervously as I struggled through her front door with the massive box. It was a state of the art security system with all the bells and whistles. It had cost a little over four grand, but there was no way I was telling Andi that.
I tried not to look at her as I sat the box down, she was far too distracting. Just being in the same room as her made my body thrum with life, and it took all my discipline and parental ingrained manners to keep my hands to myself.
“I have a friend in security. I got this at cost, five hundred dollars.” Andi raised a brow and I laughed. Yeah, she was hardly buying that.
“Is it stolen?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.
“Of course it isn’t stolen,” I balked indignantly. She didn’t look convinced, but thankfully my friend had provided me with a dud invoice. I whipped it out and showed her. “You wound me with your accusations,” I said as I began unpacking the box.
“Okay, big guy, do your stuff and make me safe then.”
While Andi shuffled around the store looking for things to clean, I installed her system. An hour later I showed her the security panel behind the front counter and explained how to arm and disarm the device. I also screwed a bell above the door that would alert her to people coming and going. If I had to listen to that sound all day, I think I would slit my wrists. Andi loved it though, said it added character and charm to the place.
“You’re as handy as a rope at a hangin’, you know that?”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.” I laughed as we made our way upstairs to her apartment.
“Oh, it’s a compliment. I couldn’t have done all this without you. You’re a miracle.”
Yeah, I was about as far from a miracle as Brittany Spears was from making a comeback.
“Wanna go out for a drink?” I asked, changing the subject.
Andi’s eyes lit up. “Heck yeah,” she exclaimed. “Just let me change.”
I settled in for the long haul. When women said, “let me change”, it actually meant just let me shower, wax, primp, preen, blow dry, apply makeup, then stare at my wardrobe for twenty minutes while I toss everything I own on the bed only to dress in the first thing I had laid my hands on. I flicked on the TV that I had finally found a free moment to hang on the wall.