There it was yet again. He figured me out.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
One of his hands came up, his fingers gliding around my ear, tucking my hair behind it as he said, “Honey, shit like that, you can’t bury. You’ve gotta deal with it and part of what you gotta deal with is,” his arm went back around me and both closed tight, “that he stepped out on you and you gotta be strong enough to face another possible consequence of him bein’ a piece of shit. It’ll probably be nothing but you gotta face it, find out then put that behind you just like you need to face all this shit before you put it behind you. You can’t bury it, you gotta look right at it, see it for the shit it is, understand that completely and then put it behind you.”
I stared into his beautiful face knowing he was right. Knowing, as all this stuff came up and I couldn’t hold it back, that I had to deal with it. I wanted to bury it but that wasn’t working. So I had to face it.
And that sucked.
And I stared at his beautiful face and it came to me for the first time since we lay in bed at Luci’s house talking that this was Sampson Cooper.
And he could easily find a woman who was not a total mess, crying in his arms, running through sidewalk eateries like the fraught heroine of a romantic comedy, needing to get an AIDS test because her dead husband was a piece of shit.
And that was why I whispered, “You really should go.”
I watched his eyes flash before he muttered softly but impatiently, “For fuck’s sake, Kia.”
“Sam, you’re Sampson Cooper, you can find a woman who’s not a pain in the ass, easy.”
“Yeah?” he shot back. “Has it occurred to you that I’m thirty-five and I haven’t?”
Actually, no. It hadn’t occurred to me.
Sam kept talking.
“I got the bitches who are very, very aware I’m Sampson Cooper. Last night, you told me you like Sam Cooper better. Last night, I fucked you, I ate you and you sucked my cock. Not them. They do not see Sam Cooper because they don’t want Sam Cooper. They do not suck my cock; they suck Sampson Cooper’s cock and tell all their friends about it.”
Oh God. That stunk but I bet it was true.
He kept going.
“Then I got the bitches who look good, dress nice and think their shit don’t stink. They are not high maintenance. They are not divas. They define both. They get up and go to bed convinced the world revolves around them, even me. They knock themselves out to do one thing, lead me around by my dick like they have every other guy who’s taken a dip in their * then they get pissed and seriously fuckin’ bitchy when they can’t do that.”
That stunk too but I bet it was also true.
Sam continued his litany of his experience with the not so fairer sex.
“Then I got the bitches who play cat and mouse, twistin’ themselves in knots to convince me I’m the cat when I’m always the fuckin’ mouse. I’m not a mouse, Kia, no fuckin’ way. That shit doesn’t fly with me.”
Hmm. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
I didn’t get the chance to decide, he went on.
“Then I got the bitches who are so desperate to keep their claws in me, the whole relationship is a sham. They hide everything and show me nothin’ but what they think I want to see. Some of ‘em are good, even I can’t see through them. Luci can, but I can’t. Then they fuck up, they always fuck up, no one can keep that shit up without eventually fuckin’ up and I see through them and every fuckin’ second they spent with me is a lie because they haven’t given themselves to me.” His hand tangled in my hair. “Not you. Right off the bat, you’re shy, hesitant, you lay it out about your husband and you’re honest that you know who I am. Then you tell me you internet stalked me, your girl’s got a cutout of me and you got a yappy dog. With you, for the first time in a long fuckin’ time, maybe even all the way back to high school, I’m the cat. You are not gettin’ this so I’ll lay it out, I like the challenge and I like it because, even when you withhold from me, I like what I see but when I break through, I see what I’ll get when I finally get all of you. But even with this dance we got goin’, baby, you are not lying, you are not pretending, you’re just you and I’ve had a number of pains in the asses, I know when I find one who’s gonna be worth it.”
“Uh… Sam,” I started then pointed out, “when the cat catches the mouse it usually kills it and eats it.”
He grinned at me, it was different than the sweet, understanding grins he’d been giving me, lots different, so different I felt my nipples tingle just looking at it and his hand drifted through my hair as he pointed out in return, “Yeah, and you like it when I catch my mouse and eat it.”
This was definitely true.