by Kira Barker
So it came that instead of the twelve hours I should have worked, I logged closer to thirty and staggered out onto the sidewalk just in time to make my date with Kara.
Tall, leggy, blonde, and always dressed to perfection, it was easy to ignore her as the vapid, superficial bitch she liked to pretend that she was. The “bitch” part I wouldn’t have dared protest—there was a reason why we got along well—but I’d seen right through her spiel where her intellect was concerned. It helped that Simon was kind of an intellectual snob where people were concerned—I still sometimes marveled how Jack and I had gotten a pass—so it made sense that his best friend had a sharp, if not brilliant mind, but a lot of men in particular were easily fooled by her simpering act. A social butterfly, she easily fit in everywhere, the classier, the better. Except for the guys, we didn’t really have much in common, but that had never gotten between us. And considering all the recent changes in my life, it was great to have a constant in her.
I was uncustomarily early for our coffee date, to the point where I texted her ahead of time, letting her know. Kara’s apartment might be just across the street from the coffee shop—yes, that coffee shop where her current boyfriend was working as a barista, because she was thrifty enough not to pass up the chance of a free drink—but while I needed roughly ten minutes from “roll-out-of-bed-freshly-fucked” to locking the door behind me, the masterpiece she presented to the world took time to put together. She still beat me there, but barely, and it was peculiar not to have her sneer at me for being terribly late.
“Hey, bitch,” she greeted me fondly as we hugged.
I returned the sentiment in kind, then smiled at Andy as he handed me a huge cup. “You’re a godsend!”
“Hazelnut latte with as many shots as I’m legally allowed,” he offered, grinning.
Kara lingered at the counter for a moment, she and Andy smiling at each other in a way that made me wonder if she’d had a stroke or something. Other people might fall in love, but Kara? Not so much. Then a new group of customers arrived, forcing Andy to return to his job and Kara to meet my smirk head-on.
“Because you never look whipped,” she ground out, laughing as she weaved her way through the tables to our favorite spot—two plush armchairs by the windows. “Which reminds me, you don’t look half dead today. Do I have to worry that any time soon you’ll actually transition to what normal people consider a life?”
“Wouldn’t count on that,” I replied, inhaling the heavenly fumes wafting up from my cup. “I’m just in between productive phases.”
She rolled her eyes at me but dropped the point.
“So how are things in the suburbs? Have you finally stopped pretending to still live in your old apartment? It’s such a dive. I really don’t know why you haven’t given it up forever ago.”
“There’s that pesky thing called a contract, for one,” I pointed out, sighing. “Besides, it’s only been two weeks since Marcy moved out. And just because I’m sleeping over at the guys’ house almost every night doesn’t mean I have to hurry things along.”
“You left yourself a loophole?” she guessed, then grinned when she saw my frown. “Can’t say that I fault you. Sure, at a first glance living with two hunks sounds like a wet dream come true, but you had your issues.”
“We did,” I replied curtly, not wanting to rehash that. Her eyes lit up, and I knew that this wasn’t the last I’d hear of that—yet.
“And how long are you going to keep this up?”
“Another month, maybe,” I admitted, hating how defeated that sounded. Kara, of course, picked right up on it.
“Cold feet?” she guessed.
I shook my head. “Not really. It makes a lot of sense to move in together. Hell, even if we weren’t screwing, it would likely make more sense now that my commuting times to the hospitals are almost the same from my apartment and the house.” And to my dream job, it would be even less.
“But there is the fact that you’re screwing,” she replied, grinning. “Things are in the clear there?”
I shrugged. “Sex was never the problem. Everything else was, but not that.” Which was only half the truth, but the other half was the part she wasn’t quite that comfortable talking about. Wuss.
“I would expect you to work out the dynamics, bright and virile as the three of you are,” she snarked back and laughed when I made a face. “I was mostly asking because of the other things that haven’t been working out quite so well in the past.”
That was vague enough that I wasn’t sure how candid of a reply she expected.
“Everything’s working out, more or less. Sometimes I forget myself and drink juice straight from the bottle and Jack loses it, but that has been the most obvious altercation over the last week.”
“Oh, you’re living life dangerously,” she cooed, snorting. “Just how much do the guys annoy you by now? I’ve never had a male roommate before, but just dropping by at odd times has pushed my limits over the past couple of years. I wouldn’t want that on a regular basis.”
Not knowing how to respond, I gave a noncommittal sound. It was different, no question, and not just because Marcy, as a fellow surgeon, had rarely spent time at home except for sleeping.
“I pretty much just eat, sleep, and doze on the couch; things haven’t really gotten that bad yet that I’ve had reason to regret my decision.”
“But then you’ve had your apartment. Until now,” she pointed out.
“Until now,” I agreed with her, then took another sip of coffee to hide a yawn that was threatening to unhinge my jaw. “But I’m sure we’ll manage. How hard can it be?”
“And yet you sound as enthusiastic as a soccer mom after twenty years of marriage,” Kara let me know, her smile becoming a little lopsided. “Come on, it’s not like you to hold back. Give me the real deal.”
“You keep reminding me that you don’t need to know everything that goes on between us,” I reminded her in turn.
“I’m sure you can just hash over the details and still get the message across?” she guessed. “Unless the big issue is that Simon isn’t spanking you hard enough or some shit. I really don’t need to hear that.”
“Spanking hasn’t really been an issue, no,” I offered, loving the nasty look she sent me. Taking another sip of coffee, I thought about what to tell her, but then decided that I might as well drop it all in her lap, considering I couldn’t exactly complain to Jack—my usual shoulder to whine on—seeing as he was part of the problem. Kind of. “Things are still a little… strained.”
“I bet,” she replied, unfamiliarly hesitant. “The way Simon was the night of the book release party, I didn’t really expect him to even speak to Jack for another month or two.”
That had thankfully only taken hours, really, but there was still a huge difference between acting civil around each other—including having sex—and being completely at ease.
“It’s complicated, you know? Some days, like yesterday morning, everything is perfect. And then someone says or does something, and suddenly it’s like we’ve morphed into a trio of cats in a rocking chair showroom,” I tried to explain.
“Maybe if you just try talking about it?” Kara proposed, sounding very proud of herself for that.
I gave her my best deadpan stare.
“Do you think it’s that easy? Talking works when your guy’s incapable of finding your clit and you just have to show him how to do it right. Not when you can’t even pinpoint what exactly is wrong because, technically, everything should be perfect.”
“But you’re still fucking like demented rabbits?”
I couldn’t help cracking a really stupid grin.
“Kinda, yeah.”
Kara rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t disappear. “Maybe hell really has frozen over that suddenly you have a sex life while I have a sweet, sweet boyfriend that I haven’t cheated on even once in over two weeks.” The last part she pressed out between her teeth as if that was something she didn’t want to
admit.
“I have some catching up to do. What’s your excuse?” I smiled at her sweetly.
“That you stole my rebound guy and suddenly turned him into this responsible adult. Bleh.”
I wouldn’t have gone as far as describing Jack as an adult most of the time, but I had to admit, he’d kept a remarkably clean record over the past couple of weeks.
“You know how true love just up and changes people,” I simpered, then laughed when she made a face. “I can’t believe that you’re actually jealous of me.”
She scoffed at that. “Not you, missy. And shouldn’t you say ‘us’ now? Because staying faithful to you still doesn’t mean you’re the only one he’s screwing.”
I wondered briefly if she was fishing for malcontent there but made sure that my face didn’t betray anything.
“People always look weirdly at me when I refer to myself in the majestic plural. And while I am very happy about my current living arrangements, I don’t intend to shove them into everyone’s face with everything I say.”
Simon would likely have frowned at me for that, but there was a reason I had this conversation with Kara instead of him.
“Probably a wise move,” she agreed. “You’re already uppity and arrogant enough as it is.”
“Why, thank you so much!” I laughed.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, shaking her head. “Still, don’t let things slide until this blows up in your face a second time. One restart you get for free, but I’m not sure if that will work a second time.”
I shrugged again.
“It’s really not that bad. Things are going well, you know? Which is fantastic, considering that for a few weeks we were on the fast-track to spending the rest of our lives not talking to each other anymore.” I still felt stupid enough about that as it was, and I didn’t need to see that hard line come to her lips. I could understand that it wasn’t the easiest situation for her—Simon had been her best friend since school, kind of what Jack had been to me; Jack used to be her on-again, off-again friend with benefits and all-around funny guy; and she and I had grown closer in our mutual disdain for everyone else over the past couple of years—and our colossal fight would have put her in one hell of a spot when it came to who she wanted to keep hanging out with.
“Just don’t let it get that far should things really not work out this time around,” she advised, sounding strangely subdued. “Sex is great, but there are more important things in life.”
“Seriously? And that coming from you?” I teased, then looked over my shoulder to where Andy was busy shuffling coffee mugs. “I think we’re getting old.”
“Nah, just jaded.” She laughed, the opposite of world-weary, and beamed a bright smile at me. “Speaking of being right, have I told you about this thing I read yesterday? You won’t believe what that one fashion blog was reporting…”
We spent another hour in the coffee shop before we had to leave to meet the rest of our girls-night-out girls. In the past, I’d often found excuses to stay the hell away from these shindigs, but nowadays there was enough of a testosterone overload in my life that I actually looked forward to being around people of my own sex for once. At least, that was how Kara had sold me on this idea. That alcohol or excellent food was involved more often than not didn’t hurt, either. That I hardly knew anyone except Kara could get problematic sometimes, but that was my own fault to start with. Ever since starting my residency, I’d only been fixated on Jack, Simon, and Kara for most of my social interactions, and now, even I could admit that, just maybe, I should do something about my antisocial tendencies, particularly considering that I worked in a job where interacting with people was mandatory.
But sometimes, it was so damn hard not to feel like this was a little beneath me.
“A sex shop? Seriously?” I asked as I eyed the establishment the bunch of women we were meeting were waiting in front of.
Kara’s smile was a thing of true beauty and grew even wider as Samantha, one of her blogger friends, replied.
“Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude! Besides, they also have a small café that serves the best espressos in town!”
A lot of giggling and blushing ensued as the gaggle of geese descended on the shop, leaving Kara and me lagging behind.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Kara whispered as she leaned closer, then pushed me through the door. “Then, again, maybe not. You’re getting that lecturing expression on your face.”
Grimacing, I looked around. I had to admit, it was a very tasteful sex shop—not the dingy kind with bad lighting and seedy displays, but the open, inviting, colorful kind that tried to appeal to a female audience. They had the obligatory plush-covered handcuffs, but some of the sex toys looked like they could maybe be put to good use. I even considered getting one of the pastel pink butt plugs, just to see the epic “WTF” look on Simon’s face.
Our sex toys were black. All of them. Because you couldn’t be a manly man dominant with anything but black dildos in various shapes and sizes.
I should definitely remember to pick that hideous pastel beast up before leaving.
The majority of our group had dispersed into the different aisles, but I tried to stick to the broad middle one that I hoped would lead me to the coffee shop part quickest and without having to touch anything. Kara remained glued to my side, a shit-eating grin on her face. Of course she would stop every few paces and pick something up to inspect it more closely.
“You know, you won’t lose any street cred if you look at something, too,” she remarked, brandishing a yellow rubber ducky wearing a mask and padded cuffs across its wings at me.
I gave her a pointed look and made a show of studying the anal beads to my left. They appeared as if they’d been factory-made in the least expensive location possible, complete with the unfinished edges typical to all plastic goods of similar origin that I so didn’t need anywhere near my genitals.
“I’m more concerned about hives and contact allergies,” I grunted.
“You could call home and ask if you should pick something up,” she proposed, still cheery. “You can’t get all of your stuff at specialty stores.”
I had no idea where exactly the equipment in the attic had come from, but I was pretty sure that it wasn’t from here. My returning smile was likely a bit more condescending than warranted, but it was too funny to watch Kara’s eyes widen, then narrow when she figured out that I was silently laughing at her.
“Whatever,” she huffed and bustled off into the direction where one of the girls was giggling with delight. Just fantastic.
Peeking around a corner, I finally spied the coffee tables ahead, but refrained from walking right over to them as I didn’t want to seem like I was fleeing from this garish plastic and latex hell. Maybe I could pick up some condoms or lube. It wasn’t like we didn’t go through that quickly enough to warrant bulk buys. But all I could see on display were the small packs, and I wasn’t yet bored enough to walk up to the cashier’s desk and ask for the perv discount.
“Can I help you?” a low voice asked next to where I was still smirking at the various flavored lubes on display. I turned, finding a woman wearing the staff uniform—black jeans and T-shirt, the latter with the shop’s logo emblazoned in bright pink across her left breast—hovering next to me. She even had a pink streak dyed into her auburn hair, currently gathered at the back of her head in a ponytail. Very cute, very perky, and the fact that she wasn’t a size zero would likely help a lot in making her customers find her more approachable than the goth waif currently manning the register. Great. Even their staff was chipper and considerate, and—presumably—just as nosy and annoying as the staff in other retail stores.
“No, thanks, I’m good,” I told her, not even bothering with reading the name tag right next to the logo. “Your selection here looks very… self-explanatory.” I nodded at the lube, then glanced at the offensive beads. I wasn’t rude enough to point out that I had no intention of even touching the dollar-stor
e equivalent of their sex toys.
“Well, if you change your mind, feel free to approach any of the other shop assistants,” she quipped back, still smiling, still friendly, and giving me a look that instantly made me want to apologize for every inappropriate joke about cheap sex toys I’d ever made. For several seconds I was just startled, then had to shake myself out of my momentary stupor.
“Will do, thanks,” I murmured, but just couldn’t hold my tongue—I wasn’t going to let some random retail worker get away with this. “Why not you, though? You do look like you work here.”
Her smile widened and took on a feral quality, and I suddenly wondered how I could ever have considered her as “cute.”
“Oh, I do work here, but I’m responsible for the more advanced stock. Custom work, among other things.” What she didn’t say, but also didn’t need to, was that she didn’t think I’d have need of that. I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my interest in scented lube, but also strangely intrigued. Maybe this wasn’t quite as bad a dive as I’d feared.
Yet before I could inquire what “custom stock” she was referring to, two of Kara’s friends joined me, giggling over the vibrators shaped like animals that they had found, and the woman’s attention thankfully latched on to them. Only that she was very nice and helpful, all smiles now, which made me wonder what exactly I’d done again to antagonize random people around me. This never happened to Jack. But I had a distinct feeling that Simon wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with that particular reaction.
Great. Now I couldn’t even just be myself anymore but had to compare myself to them. Not that it mattered.
While the chipper crowd was bustling toward the register, I aimed for the café part sectioned off from the rest of the shop, finding Kara already waiting for me—or us, but the others didn’t seem too inclined to follow yet. One look at my face, and she burst out laughing.
“Seriously? Even in a sex shop you manage to antagonize people to the point where they get pissed at you?”
“Who said anyone’s pissed at me? And I’m not that bad,” I tried to defend myself.