“So what do you make of Blake and me?” Annie sits on her bed with a self-righteous repose as if she’s ready to knife my plan to shreds before I get a single blowjob out of the deal.
“You and Blake are a fairytale—the unattainable gold standard in the land of gilded hearts and all that other stupid cupid crap. Sorry—no offense.” Annie has quickly become my bestie, and I’d hate for my acid tongue to ruin our blossoming friendship.
“None taken.” She squints at me, studying my body as I lie on my belly ready to pen my next “Sex and the Coed” article. “What happens if this great use ‘em and bruise ‘em plan of yours backfires? You know, what if you stumble into the real deal and fall in love?”
“I’ll eat my words, literally. Paper equals fiber, right? Not that it’ll ever come to that digestionally challenging phase. I’m pretty sure the only foreign object my mouth will be hosting happens to dangle between Wyatt James’ legs. Sex is his thing. He has the gratuitous variety with women on a regular basis.” I swing around and sit up so that we’re facing one another. I’m used to showing Annie my mouth and speaking a little slower than usual so she can read my lips. But about a month ago she had hearing implants turned on, and I just can’t seem to get used to the fact.
Annie pulls my hand forward. “Do you want to have non-committal sex with men on a regular basis? Is that really what you want?”
I contemplate this for a moment. A lifetime of hoe down showdowns in the bedroom with an entire parade of strangers does seem a bit sexually prolific even for me.
“Nope. Just the one for now. He seems game to keep me on a string. It’ll be the most honest relationship I’ve ever been in.” Might ever be in.
“What happens when he falls in love?”
My stomach bites with acid as soon as the words leave her lips. Wyatt is handsome in an agonizing way. He’s unfairly intelligent and perfectly independent. I’m sure he’s a good catch that someone will want to snag away in the middle of our arrangement. I don’t know why I’d find this surprising.
“If that happens, I suppose I’ll have to scout the Black Bear for another potential bedmate, and, my unbroken heartbeat goes on. The keyword here is unbroken.”
She looks to the ceiling with a silent laugh. “I meant with you. What happens when Wyatt falls in love with you?”
“Ha! Trust me, he won’t.” They never do. I’m quick to wave off the ludicrous idea. “Men like Wyatt are always looking for something fresh and young to bury themselves in. If he wanted monogamy, he would have married years ago. I guarantee you that women have tried and failed to land Mr. James in a wedded and bedded position. He’s a slippery fish. Most men are. Those, my friend, are what I like to call the honest ones—with the exception of Blake of course. Take my sister, Jemma, for example—four husbands? Three baby daddies? And, believe me, she’s just revving her procreative engine. She’s already got her eye on the government dole out prize. I know this because she’s asked me to help fill out a ton of applications to secure just that. Hello, Uncle Sam! I’m on my way to conceiving my thirteen children and use them to collect my government payout for the next two decades and beyond! I can’t wait to put everyone else’s hard-earned tax dollars to work—for me! My sister is the epitome of what’s wrong with society. If she were honest with herself, like I’m being, she would have succeeded in life on her own and simply used men for what they’re good for—sex.”
“Ah yes— the fine art of fornication.” Annie frowns. “What about kids? Don’t you eventually want to have them?”
Baby Ben pops to mind with his sweeter-than-silk skin, those butter soft rolls amassing around his chunky legs. He’s a living doll. My sister’s brood tends to melt me on an unnatural level as well.
“Easy—I’m going to be everyone’s favorite Aunty.” My gut pinches with heat as if my body were trying to have its say. My body is a ball of hormones set on a timer to pump out babies, so, of course, it wants its say. My screaming ovaries are primitive in the most barbaric sense, but that’s simply a function of nature. Thank God I’ve risen above my primal state of being and can see what lies before me, the true brokenhearted, pockmarked landscape of love. The real one in which the L word is quickly excised from my vocabulary and set on a shelf with Grimm fairytales and Greek tragedies. Even Shakespeare’s most beautiful plays, in the end, were simply fiction. I’m a woman of the new millennium, one that takes control of her body and her heart.