"No. I didn't—" Her eyes meet mine. Her cheeks turn the color of a tomato. "I did, didn't I?"
"I could go on."
"No. This is embarrassing enough."
"Nothing embarrassing about asking for what you
want."
Still, her cheeks flush. "I was so shy with Stan, my ex-boyfriend. Once he asked me to talk dirty and I froze. I couldn't do it."
"Apparently, you learned."
"Really?"
I nod.
She gives me a long, slow once-over. "I guess you bring out my bad girl."
7
Bella
It's evening when we finally get to Joel's place.
His apartment is on the beach. And it's beautiful. The hardwood floors are clean and sleek. The electric blue walls are adorned with framed prints of musicians.
The TV is one of those expensive flatscreens.
The bamboo bookshelf in the corner is overflowing. One shelf is filled with movies, another is filled with CDs, another with vinyl.
I turn back to Joel. "Of course you have vinyl," I tease.
"You calling me a hipster?"
"If the jeans fit."
He tugs at his belt loop. "I can lose the jeans."
Yes.
Please.
My head fills with ideas about him naked.
About us on that couch. Against the wall. Out on that balcony.
I want him.
Badly.
And I want to feel as loose and free as I did last night.
But sex leads to feelings. And the two of us are getting a divorce in a week. After that, I'll go back to my life. I'm not sure what my life is going to look like after my transcript of Cs, but I know it's not going to fit the whole sex, drugs, and rock n' roll thing.
It's not compatible with Joel's life.
At most, we'll be pen pals. Email pals. Something like that.