She stops herself, pressing her lips together, but I don't want her to stop there, so I push. "Be what, Yana? Finish your thought."
She stares at me for a moment, as if hesitating, but finally declares frankly, "An asshole."
"Yet that's exactly what I am, baby. And that's why you always come back,” I toss back. “In fact, that's what gets you off when I fuck you. I know it, you know it, we don't need to pretend. You can invite me to dinner, but it won't change the ending. We'll end up in your car and I'll make you come like you love."
Yana sits up a little straighter in her seat, her cheeks burning.
"You've got it all wrong, Player."
I stare at her, a knowing smile on my lips. She can claim whatever she wants, it will end exactly as I said.
"I've met someone," she whispers.
"As if that changes anything," I say ironically.
She spent her last wedding night in my bed.
"This time it's different," Yana continues. She seeks my gaze before finishing, "I love him."
"That might be what you think, but we both know that once you've put the noose around his neck, you'll come running to me so I can fuck you like no one else can."
I'm not jealous, I've never had feelings for her or any other woman for that matter. My conquests are what they are, namely amusements, nothing more, nothing less.
Yana gently shakes her head. "I'm in love with him and... I'm pregnant with his child."
I couldn't have been more shocked if she had pulled a gun from her purse and popped me in the balls with it . Sure, Yanais still young enough to have a baby , but she had always declared to anyone who would listen that she would never have kids, that she would never sacrifice her body to procreate. I guessneverwas shorter for her than it was for me.
Her last words reach me as I leave the table. "It's over between us, Player. For good."
5
DIXIE
The evening is unfoldingin a friendly atmosphere. Saphya, the young woman sharing a room with Pia, suggested organizing a small dinner so we could all get to know each other. Tonight there’s six of us. Keri and I, Saphya and Pia, Emery and his roommate Sonam. Only Player’s missing, but I don’t consider that a great loss.
"This gumbo is the best I've ever eaten!" Saphya raves. She brings her fork to her lips to devour a piece of chicken.
"Well done, Sonam," I congratulate my new neighbor.
The young man shrugs modestly. When Saphya suggested organizing this evening, she thought it would be nice if we all brought a specialty from our hometown. I opted for a pecan pie.
"What about me? Don't I get any praise?" Emery grumbles.
"You didn't do anything," Keri retorts with the blunt honesty that seems to be her specialty. The hulking football player widens his eyes and his face twists into a pained grimace. "You mean my hot dogs count for nothing?"
I quietly laugh at his antics. Gathered in the living room, we're sharing a rather eclectic menu consisting of Sonam's gumbo, Emery's hot dogs and popcorn, Pia'sdeviled eggs, Saphya's key lime pie, and finally, my pecan pie. The whole thing is far from balanced, but I admit Saphya had a good idea regarding the theme.
"Technically, it's a dish that could be considered typical of New York," Keri notes. "But these were produced on the other side of the country..."
"Says the girl who brought a bottle of tequila!" Emery replies.
Far from being embarrassed, Keri maintains an impassive expression when she answers, "I don't cook. And believe me, you don't want to taste the specialties from the rat hole I come from."
I'm about to question her on this when Pia says to Sonam, "I really like your bracelet."
Everyone's attention shifts to our neighbor’s wrists, which are loaded with unique bracelets. Leather straps accumulate, small fabric pouches hang from some, and I can make out beaded details and wooden beads.
"Which one?" he asks.
