As she muddled her way through her morning tattoo bookings, she pictured her brain changing shape, twisting with fresh synapses, the cognitive bridges thickening with thoughts of Toby’s ripped chest, asshole smirk, and pale blue eyes. They’d already had sex, and it had been good sex. What possibilities lay ahead if she took him up on his indecent proposal?
“Do you like getting topped in the sack?” she asked Sam at lunch, apropos of nothing.
Her older sister didn’t bat an eyelid. “Depends on the dude, but fuck yeah.”
“You don’t think it’s, like… degrading to women?”
Now Sam batted an eyelid. She batted two. “What the fuck’s going on? You got the same‘An ye harm none, do what ye will’speeches from Dad that I did.”
“Sure, but… what if the guy isn’t, like, kosher?”
“Who’re you fucking?”
“No one yet,” Tabby said honestly enough. “But the dude’s a douche. Total fucking clown.”
Sam tapped the end of her fork to her chin. “Well… I think anyone who says they wouldn’t bend their morals for hot sex is a liar, so it probably depends on how much of a clown. Ex-con?”
“Nah. Anyway, Noah’s an ex-con.”
“True. Dickhead?”
“Certified.”
But as soon as she said it, Tabby wondered if it was true. Tobywasin finance, and he’d been slutting around the Eastern suburbs, but that was hardly a crime. At least not to anyone except her and her stupid, misplaced jealousy.
“Maybe not a total dickhead,” she admitted. “But so not my usual. He’s rich and wears shirts and shit.”
Sam looked intrigued. “Where’d you meet?”
“The apps,” she said without missing a beat. She’d come prepared for that one. Tabby had absolutely zero intention of explaining to Sam that the douchebag twisting her brain into new shapes was the same one who’d given them the dogs running around their tattoo studio.
“You matched with a preppy cunt on the apps?” Sam asked.
“I didn’t know the levels of preppy when I matched with him. He’s got a kickin’ bod,” she said, both lying and not lying. “I saw the abs and couldn’t help myself.”
Sam laughed. “Hey, we’ve all been there. When I first saw Scott with his shirt off, I was fuckinggone.”
“Vom! Can we focus on me, actually, please?”
“Sure. Well, I think you should go for it.”
“And if he only wants one thing? Namely a bunch of ‘yes sir, no sir’ stuff?”
Sam looked like she wanted to laugh.
“Don’t,” Tabby wailed. “This is a fucking serious dilemma. My progressive credentials are on the line here, bitch!”
“Okay, okay, calm your areolas.” Sam stared into the middle distance. “So, you’re worried roleplaying Fifty Shades shit with this dude is gonna encourage him in whatever warped ideas he has about girls or whatever?”
“Yes,” Tabby said, relieved that her big sister had gotten it. “Exactly that. Because he wants to, like, pay me. Or pretend he’s paying me for sex.”
“That’s… pretty fuckin’ hot,” Sam admitted. “You’ve never done anything like that before?”
“Not so cold-bloodedly.”
“Hmm. Well, again, it comes down to what you can live with. But they’re not gonna come for your socialist card for fucking this guy, Tabs. ‘They’ don’t even exist.”
“ButI’llknow.”
