She just smiles.
“Like knowingthathelps,” she says, then moves over, bumping her side against mine.“Don’t worry, I know I can’t do anything about it right now.”
She pauses.
“And I keep worrying about you,” she admits.“And I keep remembering being in college, with air conditioning and a real bed and parties and beer and knowing that you were out in the desert, probably miserable, and just wondering if you wereokay.”
“Only for me to call and pick a fight with you because I was afraid you could do better?”I ask.
Clementine laughs.
“Obviously, I couldn’t,” she says.
“I’m flattered,” I say.Her eyes flick over my face, and I wrap one arm around her, pulling her further in front of me.“And I’ll be fine.”
We kiss, and when we separate, she looks at the fire again, and I wrap both arms around her, holding her close, my chin resting on top of her head.
“What should I name it?”she asks, leaning against me.
“You mean what shouldwename it?”
“Ididsee it first,” she points out.“Mike said I get naming rights.”
One time, the summer after we graduated, Clementine’s parents went on vacation without her and Jane.We convinced Jane to spend the night with a friend, which wasn’t hard since she was sixteen, knewexactlywhat we were up to, and wanted no part of it.I forget what I told my parents, but it worked.
Then we got drunk on her parents’ whiskey and had sex on her couch.Afterward, lying there, we started talking about what we should name our kids, because we were both still completely moonstruck and totally certain that we’d be married by twenty-three.
This feels a little like that.It’s a fire, not kids, but the memory still tickles at my brain.
“George,” I say.
Clementine laughs.
“I can’t name a fireGeorge,” she says.
“Gertrude.”
“I know a dog named Gertrude,” she says.“She’s a panty-stealing terror.”
“And you haven’t told me about her yet?”I ask.
“I forgot,” Clementine says, snuggling against me, my only-a-little-erect dick right between the globes of her ass.I think desperately about Trout, her cute dog, trying tokeepit only a little erect.
“You’ll meet her.I think you’ll get along,” Clementine goes on.
“Because I’m also a panty-stealing terror?”
“Do youstealthem?”she asks, turning to look at me.“Don’t tell me I’m gonna find a drawer full of used underpants from all your conquests.”
Her ass rubs against me as she turns my head, and I can’t think of a good response very fast.
“Um,” I say, then swallow.“Conquests?”
“Silashappenedto casually mention that you get a lot of tail,” she says.“I think he was trying to suggest that he was a better match for me.”
My heart freezes, because I knew we were gonna talk about this sooner or later, but I was hoping I’d be better prepared.Clementine just looks at my face and then laughs.
“I haven’t exactly been a nun,” she says.“I kind of went on a tear after we broke up, actually.”
