Dating-ish (Knitting in the City #6)(71)

         
       
        
"That's fine, but not necessary."

"Just wanted you to know."

"That's it? That was the entire proposition?" I sipped from my water.

"No. There's another part. But first, remind me why you're going to New York. I don't think you ever said."

He was right, I never told him why I was going. It wasn't entirely on purpose, at least not at first. As time progressed and we were spending more and more of it together, I began to feel strangely about the trip, wondering if I should cancel it. But now that all my delusions of grandeur had been dispelled so effectively, I'd decided to go.

And there was no reason to keep him in the dark.

I waited until he'd brought the glass to his mouth and had taken a gulp before I said, "It's so I can be dry humped by a professional."

Matt choked, his eyes bulging, and he covered his mouth with a hand. I smiled serenely as he coughed and struggled to draw air.

Eventually, after drinking several more gulps of water, he recovered enough to rasp, "What?"

"I mentioned weeks ago that the article I'm writing will include dry humpers, right? New York is where the best dry humpers are. Well, New York and LA. But my writing partner is covering the ones in LA, so I'm flying to New York to check out one in particular. I had to book the spot over a month ago, as this guy is very popular."

"A guy?" He choked on nothing this time, making a face.

"Yes. A guy. Tommy-in LA-will be visiting a female humper."

Matt was quiet for a long moment, inspecting me, and then asked, "This weekend, you say?"

"That's right. I fly out Friday morning. My appointment is Friday late afternoon, then I'll fly back to Chicago Saturday morning."

"What airline?"

"Why?"

"I fly a lot. Just curious."

"Midwest Air."

"Hmm." He was frowning, inspecting me with a new kind of intensity. "Are you going by yourself?"

"Yes."

"What if he's a serial killer?"

That made me laugh. "He's not a serial killer. I had to call in a few favors just to get his number. He's the most sought-after dry humper in New York."

Matt shook his head at me, his face telling me that he either thought I was crazy, or something in his mouth tasted like garbage. "Can you hear the words coming out of your mouth? 'The most sought-after dry humper in New York.' You're insane, admit it. You're insane, this is a cry for help, and you need your best friend Matt to step in and save you from yourself." 

My cell phone buzzed from my bag, prompting me to reach for it. "Says the man who wants to replace human relationships with companion robots. Maybe one of your robots could specialize in dry humping, then would you think it's crazy?"

"No. Because it would be a robot and not a human man shoving his-" Matt shook his head, cutting himself off and looking a little nauseated. "I can't even say it."

I glanced at my phone screen, sighed, sent it to voicemail, and placed it on my desk face down.

Matt's attention moved between the phone and me. "Was that your ex?"

"Yep."

"You're still sending his calls to voicemail?"

"Yep."

"It's been months. You still haven't talked to him?"

"No. Not yet." I squirmed in my seat.

"Marie . . ." Matt shook his head at me, as though I disappointed him.

"You know he won't leave a message. Who calls twice a week for months and doesn't leave a message?"

I snapped my mouth shut after asking the question because it actually sounded like something I would do. David was being stubborn, giving me a heads-up that we needed to talk without giving me any hints as to why. And I was being stubborn, refusing to pick up or call him back.

In a nutshell, this was exactly the kind of behavior that caused our relationship to fail.

"If you want to know, it appears you'll have to call him back." His tone was heavily laden with sarcasm.

"Or I could change my number."

Matt gave me a plaintive look. The look distracted me long enough for him to swipe my phone.

"Wait, what are you doing?" I reached across my desk.

"Let's call him." Matt was tapping through screens, navigating to my recent call list.

"Let's not." I tried to grab his wrist, endeavoring to snatch my phone back, and cursing myself for not making it password protected.

"Too late." He flashed me the screen, then brought it to his ear.

"Matt, don't-"

"Hi? Is this David? Hi, David. Long story short, this is Marie's boyfriend, Matt. Nice to meet you. I'd really appreciate it if you-wait, what was that?"