I tense up.
Did I do something? Say something? Was it when I asked about him coming to visit?
I thought we did a good job of keeping everything under wraps. Jordan was so busy during the week that it gave us time to fuck again and again and again, to fully enjoy each other’s bodies and share some intense passion that I know from my own experiences I’ll never be able to forget—so much so that I feel bad for the next guy because he’s got a lot to live up to—but did something happen? Did Mikey say something that made him catch on?
“Yes?” I ask.
“He told me to tell you hi.”
“He did?”
God, sometimes he’s too fucking adorable.
“Yeah. Right? I guess you two really hit it off.”
More than you could possibly know. Or would want to know.
I head into my room to start working on a few of the projects I need to wrap up by the end of this week. I have to commit probably another five hours tonight to make my schedule on these.
I can do it, though. I may not be as smart as my siblings, but what I’ve always lacked in genius, I’ve made up for in dedication.
But before I get to work, I text Mikey.
ME:
Why didn’t you tell me about Kate’s place?
It’s not that he needed to, but I considered, since we’ve been texting back and forth since he got back to Los Angeles, that he might have brought it up with me.
MIKEY:
Just didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t pan out. She’s kind of head over heels for this, so I want to be sure before we get everyone excited.
ME:
It’d give you a good excuse to swing by for some more booty.
MIKEY:
Not that I need an excuse. ;)
God, why am I grinning like this?
He has a talent for making me feel like I’m not just any lay. Like I’m special. I’m sure he has the same talent with girls, just having those blue irises on you, making you feel like you’re the only one he’s thinking about—which is a bunch of bull, but that doesn’t keep it from feeling good.
I get to work on one of my new projects: a series of Christmas cards for an erotic art company. They have all the models picked out, and they need someone to create the layout and the design for the cards. I’ve gone through about a thousand fonts trying to find the right ones that go along with the text they want to use. Nothing seems to fit. I want something classical, but that doesn’t look outdated like something you’d see on a website back when people were first starting to create their own shitty websites. And I don’t want a font that’s too wild like someone who just figured out how to design is trying to overcompensate for something.
I need something elegant.
I make my way through my database of fonts, taking my time, trying out a few with the images until I narrow it down to three that I really like, and create a mock to send over to the client.
Here I am spending all this time on something that my family thinks is pretty much useless. They don’t realize the work that goes into it, and they don’t really care.
22
One Month Later…
I sit in the moving truck next to Kate. It’s been a long-ass time since I’ve been this excited about something, and I appreciate that Kate made sure to schedule a moving time when Dad wouldn’t be home so I wouldn’t have to see him when I picked her up from the house.
