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Fine! He wants to be an asshole. I can be an asshole, too. But before I commit to the cause, wisdom demands that I take one last steadying breath and ask, ‘Is a truce within the realm of possibilities?’ My hands fan in a gesture of placation.

Walker hovers backwards into the room adjacent to mine and the door slams in my face.

Fine. Asshole it is, then!

I grab my phone and unblock Surprise Cock’s number.

Chapter Nine

The Fuck?

‘Ding-dong.’

Surprise Cock is taller than I expected. Surprise Cock’s name is Henry. Henry is leant against the doorframe to the entrance of my house, with a lip bite and all kinds of depravities swimming behind his sage-green gaze while he twists a lock of his sandy-blonde curls around his finger. I’m not exactly sure why he’s still in his lifeguard uniform and has no shoes on at eight o’clock at night, but you know what they say about a man in uniform.

He has a dimple in his chin my pinkie finger could get lost in. His features are perfectly spaced, and equally proportioned – handsome in a very obvious sort of way, and obvious about knowing it. He wears his monotonous good looks as though he’ll need nothing else to get him through life, or at the very least, this interaction.

All I can think of when I look at him is that angry little penis he surprised me with after two hours of small talk. My eyes inadvertently sweep down to his crotch, a small tent already apparent.

Henry came locked and loaded.

‘Henry, would you like to come—?’ I force my smile as he waltzes past me. He sways and does a little sidestep and shoulder jiggle to the jazz I put on before he got here.

I think one of my greatest strengths (and possibly a very slight weakness) is that I’m remarkably petty. That, and I tend to take things just a smidge too far. As he walks the length of my loungeroom with a swagger completely unbefitting of a man with a small, ruddy cock, I wonder if this might be one of those occasions I miscalculated the price.

‘So, what made you swipe right? It wasn’t just the surf lessons, I can tell you that much for free.’

Ah, yes. That’s right. The prelude to the cock jump-scare were shallow discussions of surfing. Which of course makes zero sense. We’re four and a half hours inland. I bet he can’t even surf.

At least he’s hot.

Henry throws himself down into the antiquated lounge, and as he does, a plume of smoke appears, circling his head like some sort of decrepit halo before vanishing.

Pat, pat. He taps the space beside him, and I reinforce that smile with gyprock and the possibility of an orgasm. Although hope is tentative at best.

As soon as I’m seated beside him, a complete sense of satisfaction hoods his eyes and a lazy smirk appears. Henry’s tongue prods the inside of his cheek before sweeping across his lips. ‘Come here, aye?’ he says after doing this weird sniffing thing, like he’s a mutt with hay fever.

I concede to sitting. Who’s the mutt now? What’ll I do next, roll over?

‘You right?’ He’s put his dirty trotters up on my coffee table. Sacré bleu!

‘Much better now,’ he says in a low, raspy voice. Must be the hay fever. He does look quite like he’s about to sneeze. But why is he bringing his face closer?

‘I can close the windows if you like?’

‘Nah, you’re good right here.’ He half-smiles and pulls me towards him, his eyes shutting and mouth opening with a head tilt.

‘Woah there, cowboy!’ His open lips land on my cheek. Did I just detect tongue? ‘Don’t you wanna, I don’t know, get to know each other a little bit first? Maybe tea?’

‘I gave up caffeine. Bad for iron absorption. You probably should too. You’re lookin’ pretty pale, babe.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Hey, I’ll take a beer though if you have one.’

‘Sure.’

I stroll into the kitchen, and if his eyes were a physical touch, I’d feel them bouncing between each arse cheek as I walk away.