“MARY CATHERINE SULLIVAN, WHAT ON EARTH—?”
“Jas, please, my head is literally splitting—”
“Don’t you ‘Jas’ me, sugar tits! I just got a call from my subletter asking why there was aWOMANin HIS apartment last night!”
My blood turns to ice water. “Your… what?”
“Subletter. As in,not you.He was supposed to stay two months, but after walking in and finding a pantsless stranger passed out on the couch… He sent me a photo. A photo, Mary. Of you. Then he canceled. And I quote, his exact words,‘I don’t pay premium rent to walk into a mental breakdown.’”
My mouth opens, then closes, like a fish drowning in air.
And—Oh God!
It wasn’t a dream.
He’s real.
And I touched him.
My hand on his—
I bring my hands up and stare at them, horrified, like they’ve betrayed me. These traitorous fingers, which last night were busy stroking the hardest cock I’ve ever felt in my life.
4
Mary
My head’s still trying to catch up.
To the photo.My photo.
To the canceled subletter.
To the fact thathewas real,nota drunken hallucination. And that I basically molested him.
I…
Oh, no.
Oh no, no, no.
My hands go clammy on the desk. My throat closes like I’ve just swallowed a stapler sideways.
Memory clicks into place, one awful frame at a time. And then the scream detonates in my brain—
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!
I tug at my own hair like that’ll somehow pull the memory out by the roots. Spoiler: it doesn’t. It just confirms that yes, I am awake, and yes, I am a menace to society.
The bank is already buzzing with the morning rush; early risers, graveyard shift zombies, and the usual mix of Vegas oddballs who treat banking like a public therapy session.
At Jessica’s window, there’s a guy who looks like he hasn’t slept since last Tuesday. He’s probably here to find out how much he lost at the tables and if his soul is still on the ledger.
A woman clutches a crumpled tissue in one hand and her phone in the other, staring at the screen like it holds the secrets of the Universe.
Or maybe it’s her gambling addiction recovery app. Same energy.
“ARE YOU EVENTHERE, MARY?”
