“Bendy, huh?” I mumbled. “That’s… swell.”
“I like this office,” he said, putting his foot back down on the ground before bringing one arm across his chest and grabbing his shoulder with his other hand, continuing to stretch. “You want to know why I like this office?”
“So… sweaty,” I breathed, watching a little trail of sweat roll down his cheek.
“I like it,” he said, switching to stretch his other shoulder, “because they’ve got a small gym here, downstairs. Didn’t have one of those at the office in Phoenix. Do you know what’s in the gym, Paul?”
“Free weights and an underserved sense of accomplishment?” I asked.
He shook his head slowly and walked around his bike until he was standing two feet in front of me. I tried to cover up my traitorous dick with my coffee cup, but I don’t think it worked too well. It wasn’t that big of a coffee cup, even if I didn’t have a huge dong. “Showers that no one uses,” he said in a low voice. “Ever.” He took another step toward me, until I could feel the heat radiating off him in waves. Hot, sweaty manly man waves.
“Oh?” I managed to say, trying to force myself to take a step back, but unable to do so.
Biker Vince nodded, eyes glinting. “Except….” He bit his bottom lip, then let it go. “Except for me. I use them.” He took another step, until his chest brushed against mine. He leaned in and I could feel his breath on my face and my lips parted and—
“Kelly Clarkson,” I said.
He stopped, mere inches from my face. “What?” he asked, that adorable look of confusion on his face yet again.
“Don’t need no man,” I whispered. “She told me to be independent.”
Must… resist… bike shorts….
“Who’s Kelly Clarkson?” he asked, leaning back a little and frowning. “Is she a friend of yours? If you want, I can talk to her for you. Put her at ease.”
“Nocturnal emissions are wet dreams!” I shouted at him and then ran around him and back up the stairs. I tripped, but that’s cool. I meant to do it because it added more drama to my exit.
I didn’t look back.
I TRIED to hide from him for the rest of the day. Supply closets are great places to try this out. I got bored after two minutes and started taking an unofficial inventory. We had 262 highlighters. That’s a lot of highlighters. We were running out of envelopes. Someone really should have gotten on that.
Tad came in to the supply closet at some point midmorning, claiming he needed paper clips. I glared at him the whole time, wishing silently that he’d get herpes on his face, right on his perfectly plump lips. I wondered briefly if that was very wrong of me to think, but then he gave me this knowing little smirk and said, “Oh, heyyyyy, Vince,” really loudly when he left the closet, so I didn’t feel so bad about it. As a matter of fact, I also included in my wishes for him to have a burning sensation when he peed. And to get eaten by a shark while being set on fire on the surface of the sun.
Sandy found me sometime in the afternoon. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed at me, shutting the door behind him. “Are you trying to get fired? I’ve been covering for you all day! I’ve had to tell management you have explosive bowel issues from eating Los Betos!”
“Don’t you speak badly about Los Betos,” I said with a scowl. “And why did you have to say it was explosive? Can’t it just be normal?”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Makes it sound more believable.”
“Yeah, but people are going to be looking at me weird now.”
“As opposed to when they find out you’re hiding in here with Post-it Notes?”
“We need to order more of those. Almost out.”
“Why are you in here?”
“Bike shorts,” I muttered, my brain shorting again at the memory. “Ass in bike shorts.”
His eyes widened slightly. “What? Who?”
Shut up, mouth, shut up, mouth! “Vince.” Dammit!
Sandy grinned the biggest shit-eating grin in the history of the world. “Really?” he said gleefully. “That good?”
“The ass to end all asses,” I said, unable to stop myself. “The Holy Grail of asses. If we lived in a world with fairies and elves, there would be epic quests to go get that ass. I wanted to bite it.” And that’s not something I can unsay. Yeesh.
Sandy started laughing so hard I thought he was going to pop a few blood vessels. He started to choke on his tongue, so I patted his back carefully a few times because I didn’t think my employer would be appreciative of a dead drag queen in the supply closet. That has a tendency to look bad on a company.