Sex Says(32)

Some days I thought about living down here, but after thoughts that felt circular in nature, I always went back to the place on Fillmore. It’d been my home for years, and as much as I liked to wander through every other aspect of my life, I loved having a place that felt like home. Ironic in some ways, I guessed, how traditional my feelings sometimes were.

I wandered closer to the gate, looking to my left to see rows and rows of mailboxes set in a wall of mosaic tiles. I stepped over while I considered this tiny hitch—it didn’t do much good to know her address if I couldn’t get in—I hadn’t planned on and scanned the rows for hers.

The squeal of the gate opening behind me pulled my attention around.

Jackpot.

I smiled at the young woman with full hands making her exit and nodded to the weight of the gate. “Can I hold that for you?”

She looked between me and the gate twice, studying my features for some sign of murderous tendencies before accepting—at least, accepting enough to give me the opening I needed. “Thanks. I think I’ve got it, but—”

I jumped forward jovially and took the weight before she could finish her sentence. She smiled at my presumed chivalry—the exact thing I needed—but I couldn’t let my nagging feelings go. As much as she’d just played to my interests, I couldn’t leave her like this—not with the world the way it was.

“It’s nice to meet you…” I prompted, looking for her name.

She smiled. “Isabelle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Isabelle.” She nodded like she thought so too.

“You too?” she agreed, searching for my name.

I gave it to her easily. “Reed.”

And that was it. She turned to leave after a brief, cordial exchange of smiles, but I called her attention back softly. “Hey. Real quick, before you go,” I started, still holding the gate open to ease my entry.

“You should never let somebody talk you into doing this again.”

She seemed surprised and a little confused, so I continued. “It’s okay to be rude. Especially when you’re balancing it against the danger of letting a stranger have access to your gated apartment.”

Her eyes widened a little in panic, so I lied to ease her anxiety. “Don’t worry. I’m a friend of Lola’s. 2C.”

Some of the panic settled as she recognized my information as correct.

“Just for the future, that’s all.”

She backed away slowly, but she still didn’t put up a stink about my entering her apartment complex on my own. Some people are born optimists. This woman was obviously one of them.

I admired it at the very same time I feared for her safety.

Back on track, I let the gate swing closed behind me as I moved up and into the courtyard of the building. It took me a minute, but I finally found a door and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Lola’s door came pretty quickly, the second on the right, and I didn’t hesitate to rap on the wood with my knuckles.

Music drifted under the gap at the bottom and up to my ears, louder than what most people considered an appropriate volume, and when no one answered the door after a full minute, I feared she might not even hear me knocking over it.

So I did it again, louder and with more zeal this time, so much so that the door gave a healthy shake in the frame.

“Coming, coming!” she shouted through the door on her approach, and I couldn’t help but look down at the tiled hall with a smile.

She sounded like she expected it to be someone she liked. Boy, was she in for a surprise.

The door swung open in a rush, and the transfer of air nearly sucked me inside with it. Once I saw the look on Lola’s face, however, I was glad I held my ground.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Hey,” I greeted. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“How do you know where I live?” She searched the hallway behind me as though it might hold the answer.

I shook my head, because I knew better than to answer that, and reached behind my back to pull the folded paper from my back pocket. “I just thought you might like to get a jump on gaining some perspective.”

Her face harshened as she inferred the meaning of my words.

“Excuse me, I have perspective down pat, you no-good mother—”

I smiled and leaned in to place a kiss on her color-ripened cheek. “Have a good night, Lola,” I whispered there.

And with one last glance in her eyes, her mouth opening and closing like a gulping fish, I turned and made my way back out of her building just as I’d come.

Truth was, I’d have liked to hang around, but I was already late. And as much as I played by my own rules and bucked convention, my mother didn’t—and she controlled the food.