Free Beauty And The Bookworm by Nick Pageant Page B

wear chaps, but you will show everybody your johnson.”
    I blushed. “Is it that obvious?”
    “Looks like you’re trying to sell weiner-wraps. Is that what you’re doing?”
    I covered my eyes. “Yes.”
    “Then you’re wearing the right jeans. Head out.”
    Zippers turned out to be an ultramodern bar in The Pearl District. It was snuggled in between million dollar art galleries and lofts. When I walked in I thought of A Clockwork Orange . The place was packed. I did what I do best and got nervous. I scanned the room, hoping Shane was already there. He was.
    Shane walked up to me and bent forward to kiss me. I kissed back a little hesitantly. I’m not big on PDA’s.
    Shane frowned. “You okay?”
    “Sure.”
    He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the middle of the crowd. “Come and meet everyone.”
    Then began a round of introductions to a series of underwear models, pro cyclists, gallery owners, and one Olympic athlete (not sure of the sport, but she was a big girl.) I smiled politely at each of them and got very good at explaining my black eye in as few words as possible. Not one of them assumed I’d been raped.
    Shane seemed to be known and loved by everybody. I’d like to say I swelled with pride, but I actually shriveled with jealousy. It didn’t make me feel good to be on the arm of the most gorgeous guy in the room. It made me feel like a fraud. Every conversation hinged on either sports and fitness or fitness and sports. Not one person mentioned books or art or anything I was remotely interested in.
    We were chatting with the Olympian. She was saying something about BMI and RPG or RHR. I couldn’t follow her. Shane was rubbing the small of my back, he knew I was out of my element. “Mason here works at the library. Cool, huh? He’s been reading Anna Karenina .”
    The Olympian’s face went blank, then she smiled and said, “That’s nice.”
    I always respond to condescension with sarcasm. I opened my mouth to ask if steroids were behind her total lack of breasts, but I stopped myself and spit out, “So, where do you train?”
    The Olympian was back with us and we kept chatting about the newest training techniques until I couldn’t take it anymore. I finally just wandered away and looked for the bar, hoping that maybe, just maybe they might have a bottle of rubbing alcohol I could mix with fruit juice.
    The bartender had her back to me. When she turned I was not at all surprised to see the face of Mona Lisa from the health food store. Of course she had two jobs, the girl was a real go getter.
    “What’s your poison?”
    I clicked my heels three times and said, “Rum and coke.”
    Mona Lisa frowned. “You know we don’t serve alcohol. ” She said alcohol the way sane people say shit right after they’ve stepped in it.
    “Okay,” I said with defeat, “what do you suggest?”
    I waited for her to say kale, but she surprised me. “I can whip you up a wheatgrass-pineapple smoothie.”
    Sounds revolting. “Okay.”
    “You’ll love it. It’ll really improve the taste of your semen.”
    “Make it a double.”
    I tried to mingle while sipping down Mona Lisa’s concoction. It wasn’t really that bad and who can argue with tasty spunk? Not me.
    Shane sidled up to me and put his arm around my waist. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You look miserable.”
    I, of course, lied. “No, this place is great. I wish I’d known about it before.”
    “What are you drinking?”
    “Wheatgrass-pineapple smoothie.”
    “ Really? ” Shane asked, his voice sounding like a leer.
    “Really.”
    “Well then, that’s two reasons we have for getting out of here.”
    The hint of a suggestion that Shane might suck my cock was enough to send blood flowing in all the wrong directions. Since my pants were too tight to begin with, I decided to think about Gran having a date with Millie. Bye-bye, boner. “What’s the first reason?”
    “I already said it – you’re miserable.”
    “I’m