Free Iced by Diane Adams

Iced

     

     
    I dropped my briefcase as soon as I got in the door, and my hands went immediately to loosen my tie; I couldn’t wait to get the damn thing off my neck. I kicked the door shut behind me, and by the time I got to the couch I was naked from the waist up, my clothes a breadcrumb trail marking the path I’d taken. I toed off my shoes and flipped the switch on the fan. The sweltering air of the apartment stirred slightly as the blades began to turn and even that small hint of fresher air was a relief.
     
    My fingers made swift work of unfastening my belt and in moments I was stripped to my boxers and socks. With a sigh, I dropped down to the couch and pulled my socks off one after the other. Finally, as naked as I could safely get in the living room of a shared apartment, I sprawled out on the couch. My arms stretched along the back, legs spread wide, I sighed with exhaustion and let my head fall back as the fan blew the faux cool air over my sweaty skin. The idea of global warming had made me laugh all winter as Colorado Springs had faced one of the coldest, snowiest winters in recent history. Now it was hard to believe that it had still been snowing just a couple of weeks ago. With temperatures climbing into the 90s just midway through May, it was much easier to believe in global warming… or at least Colorado warming. I thought there was a good chance I was going to die from the heat before the end of June, which was when the apartment manager would turn on the air conditioning.
     
    Maybe I should move back South where they brilliantly had AC all year long. Behind my closed lids, visions of torturously humid 100º days that sometimes started in April and lasted well into fall made me frown. I guessed I’d just stick it out. I’d survive somehow, if melting into a puddle of Taylor goo counted as surviving.
     
    As the fan moved enough air to restore some semblance of brain function, I realized my dog hadn’t come to meet me. Usually the three-year-old Lhasa Poo was under my feet as soon as the door opened, but I had made it all the way to the sofa without tripping over him once. Concerned, I sat up and looked around but saw him right away, lying on the cool tile under one of the chairs at the bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. Nicky was staring at me, tongue lolling, but made no attempt to come and say hello. The tile looked cool but the thought of wearing a thick fur coat in that heat made me groan. He sighed with apparent agreement and laid his head back between his paws. I couldn’t argue. It was too hot to move, for any reason. I’d make an appointment to get his hair cut; it was the least I could do. I’d do it as soon as I could find the energy to retrieve the phone from my pants.
     
    As if thinking about it brought it to life, the stupid thing started to ring. I listened to it for a second. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to answer it. That ring was Adam, and even though I wanted to talk to him, if he was calling it meant sex. Sex meant body contact and even more heat. I wasn’t sure there was sex good enough to suffer that much for, but I wouldn’t mind having some company. I’d broken up with my boyfriend, Jake, a month or so ago. It hadn’t been anything horrible. The fact was I liked the guy a lot, but my conscience got the best of me. He was too young to drag into a complicated three way relationship, especially one where he was not the center of attraction. The time I’d spent shared between Jake and Z had been great, but good sense had won out as the two of them had become increasingly hostile toward one another. Unfortunately my break-up with Jake had corresponded with Z hooking up with his boobs-of-the-month, and that made for a lot of long lonely nights.
     
    Adam and I had run into one another at the store a few weeks ago. We’d dated for a while last year before going our separate ways. He wasn’t about the straight and narrow of a defined relationship,