Emotionally, though, I’m a different story. The last two nights, Mr. Mulroney visited my dreams. Each morning, I woke up, hoping to see him and afraid of seeing him at the same time.
I reach for the remote on the coffee table. The bathroom door opens and Eryk walks out. Except it’s not actually Eryk. It’s a tall, lithe man built a lot like Eryk. The difference being this guy is pale with black hair. Oh, yeah. And he’s buck naked. I bolt up into a sitting position, not sure whether to scream or laugh.
Eryk was right about rapists, is the first coherent thought that flashes through my mind. A second later, I realize how stupid it is to think a rapist is walking around the apartment naked, just ready to go.
“Hey,” the guy casually says before sauntering across the rug, heading into the hallway towards the bedrooms. He’s a little too friendly to be the raping type.
As I have that thought, the front door opens and Eryk enters carrying two paper bags of groceries. “Hi-ho!” he sings out. “What’s up?”
“There’s a naked man in the apartment,” I whisper through gritted teeth, hoping said naked man can’t hear me.
For a second, he looks confused, then understanding washes over his face. “That’s just Brian.”
“Brian?”
“Yeah, you know. We’ve gone out a few times.” He winks at me. “He spent the night last night.”
I blink rapidly, the anger rising in my chest. “Eryk, it’s five-thirty in the afternoon. It’s almost night time. Why is he still here? And better yet, why is he naked?”
Eryk’s perfectly arched eyebrows bunch together. “We just woke up a couple hours ago. You know I close on Thursdays. Why are you in such a pissy mood?”
I cross my arms. “I am not in a pissy mood. You’re the one who is so scared of rapists climbing in through the window. What the hell do you think I thought when a naked man appears and walks across the living room?”
“You’d be lucky to get raped by Brian. He’s really good.”
I stand up, appalled, not having any of Eryk’s joking attitude. “That isn’t funny, Eryk!” I don’t care anymore about the stranger in the apartment hearing me. I am royally pissed, and I hope the whole city gets to know it.
He gives me a truly repentant looking “sorry” face and walks past me, putting the bags on the kitchen counter. I collapse back onto the couch, thinking the conversation is done for now. I’m still angry, but I’ll bring it up again once our, ah, guest is gone.
Eryk opens the cabinet door, about to put two bags of chips in it. He whips around, the plastic of the tortilla chips crinkling in his hands. “You know what? You’ve been in a foul mood ever since you started that job.”
“So? My job is stressful.”
He scoffed. “Stressful on your ovaries.”
“Eryk, shut up,” I fiercely whisper.
“You should just ask your boss to screw you already. You’re in a bad mood because of all that pent up sexual energy, Sydney. Maybe he could fuck some of the attitude out of you.”
He turns back around and puts the chips away, then slams the cabinet door.
“You don’t know anything about my job.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Eryk.” I have to work to keep my voice calm. It’s been a long time since Eryk has pissed me off. We’ve only had one or two fights in the two years we’ve lived together, but they were both pretty epic.
“Eryk,” I repeat.
He swivels around and peers at me, continuing to pull groceries out of the bags while he does so.
“My job is complicated,” I feebly say.
“That’s what you say.”
I stamp my foot on the floor — literally stamp my foot on the floor like a five-year-old child. I’m formulating my next comeback when the front door opens again.
“Hey,” Crystal says. She walks in wearing the rec shirt and khaki work pants that look so out of place on her. She throws her keys at the designated bowl on the shelf near the couch. They miss their mark and fall onto the floor. She groans as she bends down to pick them up. “What’s going on?”
“Eryk is being an asshole,” I say, pointing.
“What the hell, Sydney?” he snaps. He’s got yet another bag of tortilla chips in his hands.
“Just how many bags of chips do you need?” I snarl. “Are you having a naked Mexican night?”
He makes a face at me. “Oh, whatever. At least I get to sleep with the man I lust after.”
“You asshole!” I stand up again, my hands clenching into fists.
I’m formulating a suggestion about Eryk combining extra spicy salsa and his private parts when Crystal gets in the mix.