“You should definitely not do that,” I said firmly. “I was gone a long time and she moved in with someone, but it’s not like we’re officially broken up or anything. It’s confusing.”
“I think her living with a lover gives you a certain amount of leeway in who you see.”
“I think so too.”
“But you still feel guilty.”
“A little. This is all new to me.”
“That’s okay. It just means you’re a nice guy who needs to work some shit out.”
“Probably a lot.”
They put a hand on my cheek.
“It’s okay. I didn’t think anything was going to happen tonight. If you had any game at all you’d have fucked me on the Bavarian creams when we were putting them out.”
“Now it seems so obvious.”
They look around.
“You want some help cleaning this place up?”
“No. It just sort of happens on its own and I don’t ask questions.”
“That’s a nice setup.”
I follow Janet into the living room.
We stand by the door kissing for a few minutes and this time I don’t think about anything but Janet. When we open the door to leave they get a wicked look on their face.
“You like old movies?”
“I’ve seen a few.”
Janet says, “If you want to see me again, just whistle. You know how to whistle, don’t you?”
I say, “You just put your lips together and blow.”
Janet does a low wolf whistle and closes the door behind her. Them.
I go back into the kitchen and pour myself another drink.
It’s dumb for me to keep feeling guilty about Candy. She made her choice. She has her life. I need to get one of my own.
For a minute, I think about going after Janet. But I don’t. Not tonight. I’m not quite ready tonight. And Samael’s words are rattling around in my head.
Give those women a break.
This is ridiculous. I fought in the arena. Everyone in Hell was afraid of Sandman Slim. So why am I so nervous every time I kiss Janet? Does everyone know about enby but me? Am I that much of a shut-in? I need to get out more. Talk to people I’m not there to kill.
I bring the bourbon into the living room and watch Alien 3 while eating the yule log.
Janet was right. I should have fucked her out on the Bavarian creams.
Them, not her.
Fuck.