I ghosted through my postwork routine on autopilot. All clothes off at the door, into the washing machine alongside my duffle bag and all of the money it held, shower, skin care, binge eat, and collapse.
My mattress was like a cloud, swallowing me whole as I sank into it with a relieved moan so deep it could have been pornographic.
Jesus joined me and, of course, my custom thousand dollar mattress wasn’tenough for him.
“Seriously, dude?”
He didn’t deign to answer me as he curled all one hundred pounds of himself up on my back and made prickly biscuits until he snored.
“If you weren’t so cute, Jesus, I’d have you crucified upside down and hanging above my bed.”
I was too tired to fight him. I should get up, put on some pj’s and take the towel off of my wet hair. Maybe even turn the lights off or put my head on a pillow instead of half way hanging off the bed.
Couldn’t be fucking bothered.
Instead, I stared at the opened box sitting on my night stand. My pulse did that stupid skip thing. Joe was as charismatic as he was protective. He’d stood between me and assault, pulled a gun with confidence and was ready to kill a man for my honor.
I reached out and fingered the silk bow on the box.
“It’s just a stupid gift, Dany,” I whispered half-heartedly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
I said it, but only part of me believed it.
As my eyes grew heavier, the clean smell of Joe lingered in my memories, and the side of me that doubted his intentions pulled me into a restless sleep.
A sleep full of memories I’d hope to let lie.
***
“So,” Andrew said around a mouthful of French fries. “Dany.”
“Andrew,” I answered with a grin.
“Have you lived here your whole life, or is this magic city of St. Louis new to you? I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“Well first, St. Louis isn’t exactly the rural farm town size, so this being our first meeting isn’t as unexpected as you seem to make it.”
“Okay,” he chuckled and raised his beer bottle before taking a sip. “Fair enough, you got me there.”
“And second, I don’t normally frequent this part of the city. Too big, too loud, too smelly.”
“I feel like I need to defend the honor of my home, but you haven’t told any lies. Let’s chalk it up to character.”
“Oh yeah? You call this charm?” I gestured around the bar. “It smells like spit tobacco and old fish oil in here, and I don’t think any of the men have all of their teeth.”
“I’m only missing four of the thirty-two God gave me, and they were deemed useless by a professional.”
“Fine,” I said. “We will call third molars the exception, giving you a passing A minus.”
“Yes!” Andrew flung his arms out and knocked over all three glasses of water we’d collected.
“Shit!” We exclaimed as water soaked my shirt, pooling through my jeans and to my underwear.
“Oh my God, Dany, I am so sorry.” Andrew grabbed napkins and began the world’s clumsiest attempt at dabbing my wet clothes.
It was… endearing.
“Andrew,” I said, though he didn’t hear me. “Andrew,” I tried again and, when his stricken eyes met mine, let out the world’s ugliest laugh.
