“I suppose,” he says and looks back to the front.
“Something on your mind, D?” I ask.
“Ah,” he groans. “Just female problems,” he says. “You ever been with a girl that thinks you got eyes for everyone else? I’m tellin’ you, girl would think I got a thing for my moms if she wasn’t dead.”
“That sounds miserable,” I tell him. “I’d dump her.”
“Yeah…” he says, his pitch rising as he cringes at the thought.
“I’m telling you, D,” I say, “keep going for the ones you think might kill you in your sleep and you just might wake up one morning to find yourself dead.”
He reaches into the inner pocket of his sports jacket and pulls out his cellphone. He barely looks at the device as he unlocks it, and he turns the phone so I can see.
The background is a picture of a gorgeous woman with smooth chocolate skin, pouty lips and other… sizeable assets.
“I get it,” I tell him. “A woman like that tells you she’s a serial killer and you get tempted to help her get rid of the bodies, but if you’re having these kinds of problems in your relationship now, you can only expect them to get worse.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “I guess. Why does she have to be so fine, though?”
I laugh and give him a facetious pat on the shoulder. “I know, bud,” I tell him. “I know.”
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy feeling like the guy who’s gotten it all figured out, even if I am, in reality, more in an entry-level position than anything. Still, D seems to appreciate the advice.
At least, that’s what I think he’s trying to convey as he stares past me again, his phone already back in his pocket. It can be hard to tell with D sometimes.
I grab my stuff and go through the front door of the building and find a corner where I can get changed into more normal attire without too much interference. After that, the strap of the bag slung over my shoulder, I leave the building and start walking toward Ash’s.
It’s about a mile, maybe a little more, to Ash’s house, and I’m feeling the post-fight exhaustion setting in. Even the shortest fights will take it out of you, and the walk probably didn’t help, but I’m here.
I get to the apartment door and I ring the bell.
The door opens and Ash ushers me inside the door, stopping me just inside as she closes the door behind me and picks up a flashlight.
“How many hits to the head did you take?” she asks.
“None,” I tell her.
“I’m being serious,” she says, shining the flashlight in my eyes.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” I ask as I’m now effectively blind in both eyes.
“Of course I know what I’m doing,” she says. “I just haven’t had a lot of practice yet, that’s all. Any dizziness, nausea?”
“Ash,” I say, smiling and lightly grabbing her hands, “he got one good kick to the leg and I blocked or dodged everything else. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath and blowing it out. “What do you want to do tonight?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “It’s been a while since we’ve had your place to ourselves.”
“Yeah,” she says, coming a little closer and taking a sniff, “I think you should shower before we do anything else.”
“All right,” I laugh. “Care to join me?”
She smiles, but shakes her head. “I’ll get a movie set up,” she says. “You look pretty tired.”
“That sounds perfect,” I tell her.
I set my bag down and head to the bathroom while Ash looks over her movie collection.