Me:Alas, the party life is not for me. Do you mind if I go?
Emma: Back to my dad’s? By yourself?
Me: Where else can I go?
Emma: Right. As long as you don’t feel awkward about it.
Me: I don’t. But will you be okay?
Emma: Yeah. I’ve got some friends here. I won’t be alone.
Me: Okay, good.
Emma: Don’t wait up for me. Headed to pound town.
Me: Congrats!
Through the grimy window, I watch Emma get back into her makeout session and I sigh, considering my options. The bus is probably not a good idea alone this time of night, and I’m not even sure where the bus stops near Jason’s house. I could call an Uber, but the account is still connected to my dad’s credit card and finances are tight. He doesn’t mind me using Uber occasionally, but it would be the second one tonight. Plus, I have no idea how I’m going to replace everything that probably got damaged in my apartment.
Apart from walking, Uber is my only option.
I call the cheapest ride available, using Jason’s address as my destination, which is still programmed from earlier. The Uber arrives within minutes and after checking the license plate, I take the ride. Fifteen minutes later, I pull up in front of the blue jewel of a house. The crickets chirping in the yard and the gentle rush of wind are music to my ears after the raging party. I’m not surprised that all the windows are dark. It’s nearly midnight and Jason has probably been asleep for hours, right? I’m assuming he works in the morning.
Using the spare key that Jason gave me, I let myself in as quietly as possible, closing the door and locking it without a sound. I tiptoe through the entry hallway—
And draw to a halt at the mouth of the living room.
Jason is sitting on the couch, in front of the crackling fire.
Secretaryis playing on the television.
On the screen, Maggie Gyllenhaal is bent over a desk in a pencil skirt and polka dot blouse, getting the bejeezus spanked out of herby James Spader.
It’s my favorite scene. I’ve rewound it a hundred times.
The surprise on her face. The way he watches so closely for her reactions.
She’s being awakened in real time.
I gravitate closer to the television.
Jason must sense my approach because he looks back at me over his shoulder and stands up, his hand clenched tightly around the remote control. The fire rages behind him, outlining his strong, towering body in an orange glow.
“Where is Emma?” he asks.
“Still at the party,” I respond. “She’s with friends.”
Emma’s father nods once, pauses the scene on the television.
For several moments, neither one of us says anything.
“Is that what you want?” he asks me in a low voice. But I don’t get to respond. Maybe I don’t have to, because my restless expression says it all. I envision Jason’s enormous hand lifting in the air and slapping down onto my bare bottom. Heat suffuses every inch of my skin in response. “I can’t give that to you. This…”—he saws a hand between us—“has already gone too far.”
Disappointment lances me through the middle, but I firm my chin. “I know. It’s okay.”
I’m starting to feel like an idiot for making this thirty-six-year-old man, my friend’s father, watch a movie that has portrayed my secret desires so clearly. What did I expect to happen? I should be relieved that he’s turning me down. Just because he’s the only male who has ever excited my body doesn’t change who he is. How forbidden this would be.
“Good night,” I say quickly, hurrying toward the guest room.
