“Doesn’t matter. Until you’re ready to say you’re not looking for someone else while chatting up every Dick, John, and Barry out there, we’re going to stay clothed around each other.”
He’s close enough to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He just stays there, hovering.
“I think it’s supposed to be every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”
“Tom’s dick is hairy?”
I laugh and shake my head as he steps back. “Goodnight, Decker.”
“Goodnight, Holly.” Turning, I reach my room when he calls, “You know, you should look into getting a dog.”
Well… that came out of nowhere. I turn to face him. “What?”
“You always said you wanted a dog. This complex allows them. You should adopt one.”
“You’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?”
“At some point, Will’s going to come back to the States, and he’s going to want his apartment back.”
He shrugs. “So?”
“I don’t know if the next place will allow dogs, and it would kill me to have to give one up. But I can’t believe you remember that I always wanted a dog. Mom was allergic.”
Passing by me, he stops with his mouth just barely above mine. One sneeze, and we’d be lip locked. “I remember a lot of things you don’t think I do.”
And then he’s gone. His door shuts, leaving me panting in the hallway. Damn it, I want him to fuck me. My fucking pleats are wet.
Wait, what is he saying? Does he want something serious? Or does he just want to screw me as long as I’m not screwing anyone else while he’s free to get tail wherever and whenever he can?
Storming into my room, I open the app and scroll. There has to be something normal. Someone normal.
Military.
I look through, surprised at how many there are in this category, and find an attractive man named Ramon A. His profile says he’s a great salsa dancer, loves making Mexican food his grandmother taught him, and loves his country.
I message Ramon, determined. But I immediately get a reply that makes me feel like this should be the end of the road with this journey. It’s been nothing but a terrible social experiment.
RAMON A.: Hey Holly! I’d love to meet up with you but I’m gone for three more months. Can we connect when I get back to the city?
Of course, he’s gone. Probably in the military. Unless he’s lying about that like everyone has lied about who they are so far. His haircut says he’s not, but he could just be completing the image—like Benny and his fake hair on a bike with a costume leather kutte.
Mona texts me, and I ignore it. I’ve been avoiding talking in detail about how things are going, and I’m going to have to tell her soon she was right.
Damn this app.
Feedback
Help Me, Mona
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Mona says, opening the door to her studio apartment. She wears black leggings and an oversized black sweater. “Even at work, you don’t talk to me.”
Sighing, I walk inside and sink into the couch. She pours me a vodka soda and hands it to me.
That’s my best friend.
“I don’t want to hear you say it, okay? That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”
