service and/or an in-room massage
is desired by my date (or dates) before I arrive at eight o’clock
sharp, she/they should feel free to charge any desired expenses to
the room. My primary concern is her (their) comfort and
enjoyment.
“As far as which of the two scenarios is scheduled
in each city on my itinerary, surprise me. As long as each scenario
is represented equally over the course of the month, I’ll be more
than satisfied.
“So there you go. These are my sick-fuck fantasies.
I wound up losing the only woman I’ve ever loved over them—and I
hadn’t even acted on any of them yet. So fuck it. Let’s do this. If
my fantasies are gonna ruin my life, then I should at least get to
do them, don’t you think?
“I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you.”
I can’t stop staring at my laptop screen.
I turn off the music. I need silence. I’m
overwhelmed.
Holy Not What I Was Expecting, Batman.
This is a lot to take in. I feel like my brain is
short-circuiting.
My head hurts.
And so does my heart.
That Emma girl really did a number on Josh, didn’t
she? Wow. What a bitch.
I read the entire application again, my heart
racing.
Wow. It’s no less overwhelming to me the second time
around.
I sit and stare at the wall for ten minutes, a
thousand emotions bombarding me.
My eyelids are drooping. God, I’m so damned tired, I
can’t think clearly. And I certainly can’t formulate what I wanna
say about all this to Josh just yet.
Now I understand why Josh didn’t want me to read his
damned application. For him, our tug-of-war over his application
wasn’t a game—not the way it was for me, anyway. For him, it was an
act of emotional self-preservation.
No wonder he called me a terrorist.
He must have hated me for how hard I pushed.
Shit. I should have let the man have his privacy. I
should have left him alone.
I grab my phone off the bed next to me and tap out a
text to Josh. “I’ve read it,” I type. “Gonna sleep now—about to
keel over. Let’s talk later, after I wake up.”
Josh’s reply is instantaneous. “Is it worse than
being chained to a donkey?”
I roll my eyes. “You said I didn’t have to tell you
my thoughts right away—you said I only had to text that I’ve read
it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know I said that,” he writes. “And I
totally meant it. But just tell me one thing now, just so I can
fall asleep: What are all your thoughts about my application?”
I grin. He’s so cute. “Too many thoughts all at
once. I’m too sleep deprived to think. Just let me catch a couple
hours of sleep and then we’ll talk.” I press send.
Josh’s application has made me feel a thousand
different emotions, all at once, but mostly, I feel a horrible pang
in my heart for the rejection Josh endured at the hands of someone
he loved and trusted.
I sigh. Oh, Josh. I really can’t let him twist in
the wind for hours while I sleep. I know his application
doesn’t change a goddamned thing between us, but he doesn’t
know that. I don’t want to talk about all this in detail just yet,
but I certainly don’t want him to feel anxiety, either.
I pick up my phone and call him.
“Hi,” Josh says, picking up my call after one
ring.
“Hi.”
There’s a long beat as Josh waits for me to say
whatever I’m calling to say. I can hear him holding his breath on
his end of the line.
“All I wanna do is sleep,” I say evenly. “That’s
all.”
He still doesn’t say anything.
“I don’t wanna talk just yet. I really need to
process exactly what I wanna say to you. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says softly.
“But... I was thinking... will you come to my room
and sleep with me tonight? I don’t wanna be alone—I want to be with
you.”
He lets out a loud puff of air. “Hell yeah. I’ll be
right there.”
Chapter 10
Josh
I’m jolted awake by a banging at the door. My eyes
spring open.
I’m tangled up with Kat in her bed, in my briefs,
and I’ve got a gigantic woody.
Learning to Kill: Stories