by T Gephart
What the hell?
The buzzer from my front door smashed through my zen-like contentment. The continuous, obnoxious noise refused to stop despite my mental urging.
It is just someone wanting the wrong apartment, I rationalized, holding a pillow over my head to drown out the drone.
But despite my expectation that whoever it was would either stop, move on or spontaneously combust—yeah, slim chance, I know—the incessant buzz continued.
“God damn it.” I kicked off my covers, ready to get medieval on the dumbass who dared derail my plans.
That poor bastard.
I hoped they’d had a nice life.
“Hang on,” I huffed, not caring the demon spawn fixated on my buzzer couldn’t hear me. “I’m fucking coming.” Again, air was my only audience as my feet stomped loudly to my front door.
“What?” I breathed through the door not willing to open it. All pretenses of hello or manners went out the window, my mouth unable to lie. It could have very easily been fuck off, so the way I saw it, they were getting off lightly.
“Kenzie, it’s me. Let me in.” The muffled voice answered through the wood, my hostile greeting left unacknowledged.
“Joey?” The edge fell from my voice as I waited to confirm the origin of the disturbance, not willing to open the door until he’d given me the green light.
What was he doing here? It’s late. Okay, so maybe not late but still we hadn’t spoken in three days, the time out I’d called still in effect. And he had been so respectful about giving me space, he was the last person I expected on my doorstep.
“Is everything all right?” I asked as I searched for the keys to my deadlock, the stupid things not in the bowl where I usually left them.
“I need to see you. Please.”
Crap. He sounded strange and he’d said please. Something was definitely wrong. Why hadn’t he picked up the phone? My curiosity superseded my agitation as I finally found my keys and twisted the lock. My mumbled pleas that it not be anything serious continued as I swung open the door.
“Hey.” I watched as he stood on my front step, the look of his face stone cold serious. God, please don’t let him be dying.
“Okay, so here’s the deal.” He grabbed my arms and moved me through the doorway, back into my apartment. His resolution unwavering as he closed the door behind us. “We’re not fucking anyone.”
“I’m sorry? What?”
My face twitched like I’d had some kind of seizure as my brain tried to rehear the words he said. Even trying to rearrange them didn’t help, feeling like I’d stepped into the twilight zone.
Was I dreaming?
Did I already fall asleep and this is some fucked up dream? It was surely too bizarre to be real.
“We aren’t fucking other people,” he reaffirmed, like the words made any more sense the second time around. “I’m not going to sleep with anyone and I want you to do the same.” His hand reached out and touched my arm completely discounting this as a dream.
Well, then.
I was out of ideas.
Unless he was drunk, but other than the weird talk his breath was noticeably absent of booze. His eyes were also clear and his stance completely devoid of the too-much-to-drink sway.
“Can you slow down and find the part of the conversation that I’ve obviously missed?” I’d say at least thirty minutes of it if I had to take a guess. The start of it probably happening when he’d left The Bronx, forgetting I actually had to be there to hear what he was saying.
“I know we aren’t dating, and you don’t owe me anything but I think we should do this,” he continued, the elaboration not helping much more than the original explanation. Perhaps he could draw me a diagram, whatever he needed to say couldn’t get any more lost in the translation than it already was.
“Do what exactly?” I blew out a breath, too exhausted to keep playing the guessing game. So far I’d gotten bits of puzzle words that didn’t fit, their significance as much of a mystery as to why he was here in the first place.
“Not. Have. Sex.” He said each word slowly and deliberate, like that somehow helped. “With other people and I’m serious. It’s going to rely on an honor system but I swear, I’m not going to fuck another girl while you’re pregnant.”
The penny finally dropped.
What his whirlwind of confusion had failed to explain was spelled out plainly. He wanted fidelity. Something he’d never asked me for when we actually were sleeping together, now that we weren’t—maybe he was dying?
“Why would you do that?” My voice was small, unable to pretend that I wasn’t floored.
Hearing him say he wasn’t going to sleep with other people was something I thought I’d never hear. Along with him voluntarily giving up sex because effectively that’s what he was signing up for. We weren’t fucking, so if there was no one else, he and his hand were going to get very close over the coming months.
“I’ll be honest, first it was about me not wanting you to be with anyone while our kid was in there.” His hands moved up my arms, his touch not having left me since he’d walked in. “The thought of some other dude being inside you while my . . . while our baby is in there too makes me want throw a chair through a wall.” He took a breath continuing. “But on the drive over here I realized how much of an asshole I was.”
He was definitely dying.
Or it was the end of the world.
But this was not the guy I’d slept with. This was not the man I knew.
“You got the rough end of the deal, Kenz.” He steered me to the couch, my feet following without resistance. “You’re the one who’s been sick, it’s you who has to carry our baby.”
I blinked, the back of my knees hitting the edge of the sofa and my brain not able to compute what to do next.
“You’re the one who’s going to have to go through god knows what when it’s finally time for him or her to be born.” He didn’t blink an eye, easing me down onto the couch before joining me by my side.
“And as much as I can tell you I’m going to be there, nothing I say or do will change that it will have to be you who does the heavy lifting. Fucking around while you are doing that just isn’t the right thing to do. It doesn’t have anything to do with whether or not we’re together, it’s got to do with the fact I need to put someone else first. And you’re giving up a hell of a lot more than I am during those eight months so the least I can do is keep my dick to myself.”
My throat was tight, the lump that formed made it difficult for me to swallow as my eyes started to water. I couldn’t help it, the tears I was so desperately trying to hold at bay crept at the edges and broke free. My body sagged against the cushions at my back but it didn’t register, I could have been sitting on a bed of nails and my attention would have still be on nothing other than Joey. My heart thumped erratically as I tried to say something, but stunned silence was the only thing I was able to offer.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” His eyes darted across my face, my tears being misinterpreted. “It sounded better in the car. I said it wrong.”
“No, you didn’t.” I finally found my voice, another tear rolling down my cheek. “You said it all exactly right.” My fingers reached out for his and interlocked. “I’m just really emotional because it’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” Or any man for that matter.
The single most selfless act of putting me first, even when he didn’t have to, knocked the wind out of me. If I hadn’t already been sitting down I definitely would have needed to. Something else I was thankful to him for. My hospitality had been missing in action when he’d first walked in, so we might still be standing. Still, shock will do that to a girl.
“Wow, I’m really going to have to work on stuff I say to you because if that’s the best, it’s pretty bad.” Joey smiled, not understanding how amazing those words had actually been.
“You’re doing great.” I smiled, my leaking eyes finally slowed as I tried to get a handle of my
emotions. “Really, this is more than I expected.”
“Well, we have to get through this together, right? So what do you say we try this?”
God he was sweet. And so incredibly tender I hated myself for every bad word I’d ever said about him. Conceited. Arrogant—sure. But the good bits far outweighed the bad ones.
“You really think you can do this?” It’s not that I doubted his intentions, his eyes and words being crystal clear of his commitment. But theory and practice were two different things, and he was surrounded by beautiful women who wanted to sleep with him. It was like putting a drug addict into a crack house and then expecting them not to sample the product.
“It’s a few months, no biggie.” He shrugged like he expected it to be a walk in the park. “What about you? This here is a two-sided deal.” He grinned. “You think you can hold out?”
He had definitely drawn the short straw. Sex, on my list of priorities was on par on with getting a root canal. I couldn’t even imagine wanting it, let alone fighting the urge not to. In fact, I might never have sex again. It would probably be safer and any orgasms I’d be missing I could happily provide myself, if and when I felt like them.
“Joey, the no sex part isn’t going to be a problem for me. Honestly, I can’t even think about it right now without wanting to stab myself in the eye with a fork.” Or stab a penis if it even looked like it was coming near me.
“Yeah, Max and Rusty said that’s going to change and you’re going to be super horny.” He looked at me sideways, the smile curving at his lips.
“You spoke to Max and Rusty about me having sex?” I was trying to not fly off the handle given how sweet he was being, but the last thing I wanted was my bedroom habits being discussed with most of Black Addiction. I didn’t even want to know the circumstances as to how it was brought up, let alone their opinions on it.
“It was more them talking to me about it.” He tried to reason, like the alternative would be more palatable.
“Not any better.” I shook my head. “As much as I love Rusty and Max, they are going to be wrong.”
“So you aren’t going to be super horny?” Joey’s voice rose in disappointment. It was obvious he’d been secretly hoping.
“I can’t see it happening.”
“But if it does.” He turned his head to the side, either contemplating or choosing his words before he continued. “And don’t take this the wrong way—but I’ll be happy to help you out.”
“What? Like you’d service me? Jesus, Joey.” The back of my hand flew across his chest only slightly offended. It sounded terrible even though I was sure he hadn’t meant it that way.
“You know what I mean.” He tried to dig himself out of the hole he’d put himself in. “And sex for us isn’t all tangled up in all that other stuff, so I’m just saying if you needed me, I could do it.” The smile he’d been wearing teased into a smirk, the direction his mind was currently heading plainly obvious.
“You really are trying for sainthood, aren’t you?”
“I assure you, Kenz, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice.”
“It won’t happen.” My resolve so sure I’d probably reclaim my virginity.
“Well either way, I’m good.” He leaned back, stretching out his arms across the back of the couch.
“I bet.” I laughed, the idea of Joey being my own personal sex toy would have been so appealing a month or two ago. Such a waste he was offering it now. Sometimes life was just unfair like that.
“Do you want to stay? I was just going to go to bed, but if you wanted to hang around, we could watch movies or something.” Pushing him out the door and being alone didn’t fill me with the same joy it had an hour or so ago.
“Sure, as long as I get to pick.” His hand swooped down onto the coffee table and picked up the remote. “I’m giving up sex; there is no way I’m going get stuck watching bad TV as well. Oh and no Gossip Girl, that’s like a rule.”
“Fine, you can choose.” It was a small concession given I’d probably fall asleep after an hour or so anyway. “And how do you even know about Gossip Girl, let alone have such strong feelings against it?”
Not that he’d have to worry about me wanting to watch it, but the mention of the teen hit drama had me curious. I should probably learn anything goes when we’re talking about Joey’s mind and his mouth. It was a crapshoot as to whether or not it would be relevant.
“Long story.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand, his finger hitting the remote to bring my television to life. “But just so you know, it’s personally offensive to me. So as my friend, you should avoid it too.”
I didn’t bother pursuing it further, not sure I wanted to know and too tired to care. “No sex and no Gossip Girl. All good.” I stifled a yawn, the fatigue I’d been feeling earlier coming back to rear its ugly head.
“You want to do it here or the bedroom?” He shot me a sideways glance of concern. “The movie, I mean,” he clarified, in case I’d misunderstood his intention. “We can go wherever you’re most comfortable, and I won’t even touch you even though your rack looks amazing in that top.” His eyes dipped down to my fitted cotton sleep shirt, my lack of bra catching his attention.
“I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Hey, no hardship here.” He let his eyes linger a little bit longer, the grin on his face indicating he was enjoying the view. “I noticed earlier but we were talking about serious stuff so I didn’t bring it up.”
“You definitely deserve a medal, I’m sure it was very hard for you.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I’d had a chance to really process what I’d said, the double entendre no doubt wouldn’t be missed.
“I mean difficult.” I tried in vain to offer a more appropriate word substitution. “Do not make some wiseass comment about your penis, you know that’s not what I meant.”
“We can talk about him if you want, babe.” The chuckle found its way out his throat. “You know that shit doesn’t offend me. Actually, it’s pretty awesome.”
It was with an effortless calm that we fell into a more normal conversation, my body snuggling against his as I got comfortable on the couch. Any weirdness I had been worried about was AWOL as he put his arm around me and accepted my weight against him.
“You’ve been without sex for around five minutes and you’re already begging to talk about your cock. You want to rethink that vow of celibacy, Joe?” I laughed, loving how easy it was to be around him. It was as it had always been with him. Uncomplicated.
“Babe, you brought up my cock not me, and don’t pretend you aren’t just as bad as I am. Ten to one says you cave before I do. Just remember our agreement when you do.” He lost interest in channel surfing as he pulled me closer, his eyes fixed on mine.
“We aren’t betting on which one of us is going to be begging for sex, Joey. And if anyone will cave, it’s you my friend. I’m rock solid,” I answered with no hesitation. It would be uncharitable to take that bet, I wasn’t heartless.
“Well then, put your money where your mouth is. A little healthy competition should make it interesting.” His eyebrow rose, daring me.
“Money is boring, what’s the ante?”
If he was so hell bent on proving me wrong, who was I to deny him the opportunity? And he was right about one thing, it would make it more interesting.
“Ooooooooh. I’ve got something. The loser can’t jerk off for a week.” He smiled proudly, like he just offered the Kanye of all suggestions.
“What?” I laughed, the idea possibly the most ridiculous I’d ever heard. “How can you even police that?”
“Honor system. I’ll trust you, if you trust me.” He smiled, the ease of his answer made it sound like it was me who was being ridiculous. “But I can tell you, I’m not losing this bet. Jerking off is all I’m going to have. I might as well giving up breathing, it would be easier.”
“Well, you better start learning to hold your breath, because I’m not losing either.”
Ha! If I wasn’t in a generous mood I would have suggested two weeks but I was willing to keep playing nice. Besides, any more than a week would be a crime against humanity, he’d be climbing the walls by day two. For his band’s sake I hoped they weren’t on tour when he cracked.
Actually, that could be interesting.
I was so going right to Hell.
“I’m not losing.” He held out his hand, expectantly. Big smile on his face.
“We’ll see.” I accepted his hand, and shook on it, my smile doing its best to match his.
“Just to clarify.” I thought it best to probably go over the fine print, “We should probably define losing.” Wondering if it meant him having sex with someone else.
Funny how I hadn’t really thought about it until he’d offered it and now, I really didn’t want him being with someone else. I’d even go a step further, and say the idea of him with some other girl made my blood run cold. The joy of winning not as appealing anymore.
Fuck, these mood swings were a bitch.
“I thought we already agreed. Losing is an admission.” He’d seemed to read my subtext. “The first person to admit they can’t go on any longer without is deemed the loser.”
“Okay.” I eased back into him, pushing aside the tug-of-war I had going on in my head. Did I want to keep talking or just enjoy being with him? I was really glad he had decided to stay.
“Fuck, yeah.” Joey’s attention turned back to the television we’d all but forgotten. “Scarface is on, I love this movie.” He grinned at the screen. “You wanna fuck with me?” He echoed Pacino, reciting the move line for line as it played out. Usually that would have been grounds to punch someone right in the face, but strangely, I didn’t mind.
The commentary continued as I struggled to keep my eyes open. The battle to stay awake slipping from my grasp as my lids finally closed. The gentle rock of his body when he laughed, lulling me to sleep.
“Kenz,” Joey whispered in my ear in my dying moments of awareness, the dark tunnel of REM chasing me down like an unrelenting wave.
“Hmmm.” I murmured, unable to get my lips to move and give him something more tangible. A word was going to be too much to ask.