Four Fun (Four)

Further down a hall, I find a master bedroom, or at least it appears to be the master; I haven’t seen the other bedrooms yet for comparison. I feel a little strange about walking in, but the door was open, so it doesn’t seem like the person has anything to hide.

I don’t snoop, but I do take notice of things around the room and try to figure out whose it is. The walls are soft gray and there’s a huge bed with a black headboard; it’s neatly made and covered with a dark gray comforter. The surfaces of the matching nightstand and dresser are both clear of any identifying items.

The only thing on the wall is one piece of framed artwork, black and white, with staircases going in every direction, essentially leading nowhere. It looks vaguely familiar, like something I may have learned about in school but don’t quite remember.

I know it’s not Khalil’s room, because he mentioned that he sleeps upstairs. When I notice a piece of gray clothing draped over the rim of the hamper in the corner, I start to suspect whose room I’m in. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if what I’m thinking of doing is crossing a line, but then I decide that I don’t care.

I pick up the item of dirty clothing and sniff.

Memories rush in as my nose takes in the sharp, manly scent of sweat. Shane’s sweat, on the pants he was wearing last night that made me thirsty.

I toss the pants back in the hamper and turn on my heels.

Shane is just a man. One of many. I’ve already been there and done that, and there’s no reason to keep thinking about how good he was.

I’ve had plenty of good sex, and I’ll have plenty more as soon as I get my life in order.

16

The fantasy

Not surprisingly, the second level of the house is as clean and tidy as the first. On one side, there’s an open family room area, the guest room I’m staying in, a bathroom, and an office. From the office window, I have a view of the backyard, with its inground pool, large patio, and neat landscaping. A wooded area surrounds the yard.

The office looks well used, with a lot of papers on the desk that I hesitate to tidy for fear I’ll disrupt their intended organization. There’s a trash can I can empty, though, so I go downstairs and find a garbage bag, pleased that I can finally do something useful.

With a large bag in hand, I circle back to the downstairs bathrooms and empty trash cans before heading back upstairs to do the same. After returning to the office and then tidying my bathroom, I cross over to the side of the upper level that holds the remainder of the men’s bedrooms.

The first room I come to has a totally different vibe than Shane’s cold, dark, neutral decor. This one is painted a happy shade of blue and features a shelf of trophies, a lot of baseball memorabilia, including a shadow box with a baseball mitt and ball, and a variety of framed pictures covering the walls.

There are a few baseball team pictures, which I scan to find a familiar face. The first picture is little league, and the kids are too young for me to figure out if I recognize one of them. There’s an older team pic, maybe high school, and helpfully, it’s framed along with a baseball card featuring one of the players: Devin.

I’m not sure I would have recognized him without his facial hair, but now I notice that the eyes are undoubtedly his, so dark and soulful, with thick brows that make it seem like he’s completely focused on the viewer.

Further along the wall, there’s a picture of two players together. Devin, looking more filled out and almost as good as he does now, and Marcos, the angles of his face unmistakable. This is from college — it’s marked with the team name and year — and wow, those two guys must have been busy with the girls when they weren’t playing baseball. I wouldn’t have thought it possible to get turned on from a nearly ten-year-old picture, but here I am, getting horny again.

I empty the small trash can in Devin’s room and bathroom, and move on to the next bedroom, which returns to neutral gray territory. This one has a houseplant, a variety of books, and oddly, a phone lying facedown on the nightstand. Either Khalil or Marcos forgot it — I’m not sure whose room I’m in — or maybe they have an extra, one for work and one for personal use.

The adjoining bathroom leads into the last bedroom, which immediately makes me think of Khalil and our meeting at the bookstore. There are posters of outer space on the wall — beautiful, colorful images of stars and swirling galaxies, and who knows what — and there’s a telescope aimed out the window and toward the sky. Though I’m not a reader of science fiction like he is, I’m fascinated by stargazing and tracking constellations. I make a mental note to ask him about the telescope when I see him.