Sex Says

by Max Monroe

  I approached the Leech’s office so satisfied, so smug, so fulfilled in all the ways I really wanted, I almost didn’t notice the look on her assistant’s face. It took him sticking out a hand and planting it in my chest to gain my attention.

  “She’s on a bender,” he warned.

  I smiled. “What’s got her riled now?”

  He winced. “You.”

  My smile melted slowly. “Me? What did I do?”

  He tilted his head and I laughed. “Okay. What’d I do this time?”

  “Reed! Get in here!”

  He raised his eyebrows and whispered his best wishes. “Good luck.” I had no choice but to meet my fate head on—not that I ever handled anything any differently.

  I swept in the door and sat right down in the chair in front of her desk. “Hello, Rhonda.”

  Her eyes narrowed at my innocent tone.

  She didn’t even bother with small talk, and instead, held out her hand in wait. Suspecting she expected my column to fill it, I looked down to what pretty much equated to my heart in my hands and forked it over.

  It was the second column agreeing with Lola’s, but more than that, it was a declaration of all the things I was terrified to give in to. Normalcy, love, long-term commitment—but mostly, the admission that I craved all of those things, lusted after them like all of the other “sheeple” I’d fought so valiantly to oppose.

  “Reed This,” she read. “Sex really does say.”

  Accusing eyes shot to mine, and I shrugged. It had seemed like a good title to me at the time.

  “Either Lola Sexton is getting smarter, or I really am in love with her,” she read, her eyes peeking over the edge of her glasses with icy intensity. “The smart approach she took to intimacy with her readers buttered me up, and her wise words on welcoming life changes and embracing your natural strengths sealed my fate.”

  She ripped her glasses off of her face and tossed the column down on her desk.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “My column,” I told her needlessly.

  “I mean,” —she emphasized— “this watered-down, love-sick version of the guy we hired? Where’s the insight, the battle, the so valiantly argued flip of the coin?”

  God, this didn’t sound like it was going to go well. I felt sick to my stomach over the personal nature of everything I’d bled onto that page and the way Rhonda discarded it.

  But I maintained my composure, as always. “I agreed with her. So that’s what I wrote.”

  “No. I don’t think that’s it,” Rhonda said quietly, pushing back into her chair and steepling her hands in her lap. “I think you’re like every other weasel out there, hooked by whatever spell she puts out and eager to keep a direct line to her genitals.”

  Pulses fired behind my eyes and needles pricked at my skin, and I fought to make sense of each sensation.

  It took an almost ridiculously long moment to recognize I was angry—something I was completely and wholeheartedly unfamiliar with.

  My clarity was so hazy, so scattered, I had to take an extra second to gather my thoughts.

  When I found my focus, aided no doubt by the daggers shooting out of my boss’s eyes, the only conclusion there was to come to settled over me like the San Francisco fog. “I’m not going to disagree with her just to disagree. Sorry. That’s not how I do things.”

  Rhonda shot forward in her seat again, leaning her elbows onto the gleaming wood of her obscenely large desk. I’d heard of men compensating for penis size, but I wasn’t sure what the equivalent was when it came to a woman. “The column has a buzz because you disagree. That’s the whole point, Reed.”

  “I thought the point was to help people looking for advice or direction in their lives.”

  “Ohh,” she hemmed. “Yeah, that wasn’t the goal. We’re looking for sales, and let’s face it, people love conflict. The mushy, we-actually-like-each-other feelings you’re portraying, not so much.”

  Thanks to her indifference, I came back into myself. I only sought the opinions of people whose passion matched my own—whose position held merit and substance. Rhonda Leech wasn’t either of those things. She was a money-grubber and a gatekeeper to ruthless morals. She was, perhaps, an exact portrayal of her true self—a concept I always preached—but she wasn’t a good mesh with me. I wasn’t even angry anymore.

  “Again, sorry. Falsifying advice for the gain of the paper is not my scene.”

  “You work for us, so really, we tell you what your scene is. And the gain of the paper is always it.”

  I shook my head and stood up from my seat.

  “I’ve never been good at being a puppet. Played Pinocchio once in my elementary school play, and all of the reviews said it was a spectacular failure.”

  She grabbed my column from the desk and shook it. “This…love letter…is never going to print. Either you rewrite another draft that aligns with the goals of this institution, or you can consider your column discontinued. We’ll draft a good-bye from you to fill the spot.”

  “Then it’s been a good run, but I guess this is good-bye.”

  “Reed—”

  “Have a good day, Rhonda.”

  I reached forward and pulled the column out of her hand. “But this…I’ll keep.”

  I didn’t look up, and I didn’t look back as I left the office and headed straight for Lola’s apartment. I wanted to see her, touch her, breathe her in as a means of reassurance as I struggled to understand the disappointment I felt.

  My only comfort came from knowing the disenchantment wasn’t pointed within but outward, to the world around me. It was a temper tantrum of sorts, where emotion lashed out at the readers for loving a good scandal and at Rhonda for being so ruthless.

  I mused over why people couldn’t find joy in writing rather than in drama, but by the time I made it a couple of blocks, all that fire burned out.

  This wasn’t about a job or societal letdowns. This was about pouring my heart onto a paper, bleeding myself into the moment and my wants, and having them slapped down.

  Lola’s validation felt more important than ever.

  I was only a block away from Lola’s building when the power of distraction ran me right into the past—literally.

  “Reed? Holy shit, man. Is that you?” the low voice asked, a crying baby on his hip. Wild blond curls and a thumb in her mouth, the little girl struggled to settle as I moved my gaze from her to the man holding her.

  I could hardly believe my eyes. “Brandon?”

  Once my best friend, this man had gone on to become everything I hadn’t and then some—a partner, a husband, a family man with a sense of purpose other than himself—everything that was now staring my Lola-loving self in the face.

  Fate sure had a sense of humor.

  “Knock. Knock,” I announced and tapped my fist against the door to Reed’s apartment three times.

  I expected the door to open quickly, like Reed was expecting me, but I quickly reminded myself that he wasn’t. Hell, he might not even be home.

  But only moments later, he put my mind at ease, pulling the door open with a surprised but edgy smile on his face. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him make that face before.

  “Fancy some company?” I asked and held up the bag of takeout I’d grabbed on the way over.

  The way his eyes melted into warm pools put me at ease. “I always fancy your company, Roller Skates.” He stepped back and held the door open, but he looked over his shoulder as he did. I stuttered to a stop at the unexpected sight of another man who looked to be about our age, swinging a toddler onto his hip and shoving a bag of Cheerios into a diaper bag.

  “Oh,” I mumbled. “I didn’t know you had company.”

  Reed shook his head and waved me off. “Don’t worry, Lo. I’m glad you get to meet Brandon, actually. We were friends in college.”

  “Fake friends or real friends?” I questioned, and he laughed. So did Brandon, for that matter.

  “She knows you well
, huh?”

  “That she does,” Reed confirmed before finishing the introductions. “And real. He was probably my only real friend in college.”

  That was awesome, but honestly, I was still confused. I’d known Reed for going on a couple of months now, biblically for the last month or so, and I’d never encountered a situation where he was actually hanging out with one of his friends.

  Quite frankly, if I hadn’t been so involved in being his very best friend, I might have questioned if he had any at all. Acquaintances that covered every square inch of the city? That was a guaranteed daily occurrence when I was with Reed. The man had connections in all sorts of places. But a close friend? Not so much.

  Apparently—thankfully—Reed could tell by the look on my face, and I didn’t have to say anything.

  “I ran into him today.”

  “Literally,” Brandon added with a laugh. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. I’ve gotta get home anyway.”

  Reed walked Brandon to the door and reached out to shake his free hand. “If you need anything—”

  “Thanks,” Brandon interrupted, his eyes jumping to mine and back again. “But I have a feeling it’ll all be okay. I just wish I’d taken my time like you.”

  Reed’s face was conflicted, but he didn’t address it. Instead, he reached over to the table by his door and picked up his phone. “Still, let me get your number and give you mine. It’s been too long.”

  Brandon looked at the phone like it was an alien. “Reed Luca with a cell phone?”

  Embarrassed eyes—Reed’s embarrassed eyes—flashed to me for a heartbeat. I didn’t think I’d ever see the day, but he didn’t make me wonder about the reason for very long.

  “I didn’t like not being able to get in touch with Lola.”

  The deeply personal way he said it made me flush from the inside out. Brandon’s smile deepened, but it was wholeheartedly sad around the edges.

  What in the hell had I just walked in on?

  They exchanged numbers quickly enough, as I took the time to peruse Reed’s handsome face, his gorgeous eyes, and even let my gaze trail down to enjoy the view that was his tight and toned body. Clad in perfectly worn jeans and a T-shirt that read Reed laughed today, I was not disappointed. As much as the vibe was off, everything else was exactly spot-on.

  Not wanting to intrude on their business any longer, I made myself at home in the kitchen, unloading two plastic containers filled with pasta and garlic bread from the best little mom-and-pop Italian shop in San Francisco.

  I heard the door close with a click and then Reed’s soft footsteps as they made their way to me.

  “That smells delicious.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and waggled my brows. “I know.”

  He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Is that Franchino’s?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Mmmmmmm.” He buried his face into my neck and bit the skin with a gentle tug. “You’re my favorite woman on the planet right now.”

  “Just right now?”

  He chuckled softly into my skin and stepped back, leaving me with a firm little tap to my ass courtesy of his hand. “Fishing for compliments?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He gripped my waist with his fingers and turned me around until my butt rested against the counter. Down on one knee, Reed Luca stared up at me with playful eyes and my left hand held between his warm palms. “Lola Sexton, you are my favorite woman on the planet. Not just right now, but always.”

  I grinned. “That’s a little better.”

  “It’s only a little better? I’m down on my knees here, woman.”

  I shrugged and bit back my smile.

  Two seconds later, my ass was in his hands and my body was firmly tossed over his shoulder. “Holy hell! Reed!”

  Like a man on a mission, he strode through the kitchen, into the living room, until he reached his bedroom—that’s the moment I stopped shouting and simply let him lead. Far be it for me to put the kibosh on any mission that ended in the bedroom.

  I giggled when my back hit the mattress and Reed climbed over my body, holding my arms down with his hands. His teasing smile and shining blue eyes were playful but calculating, and instantly, I knew it spelled trouble.

  Silently, I hoped and prayed the trouble included clothes removal.

  And sex. Lots and lots of Reed and Lola sex.

  I did my best impression of a wiggle worm, but it was of no use—and who was I kidding? I didn’t have any real complaints about our current position. But, eventually, no acting was needed, his fingers finding their way into the most ticklish spots near my neck, rib cage, and belly. My body cued up like a rocket waiting for launch.

  “Stop it!” I shouted through a fit of giggles.

  “Just a little better?” he questioned and continued his assault.

  I wriggled and fought and even bit my teeth into his left bicep, but he didn’t flinch. “Oh. My. God. I’m going to pee all over your bed if you keep this up!”

  He paused, smirking down at me, while my chest heaved up and down as I tried to catch my breath.

  “I’ll ask one more time… Just a little better?”

  A sarcastic response flirted with the seam of my lips, but as his fingers started to inch back to my ribs, all thoughts of lashing him with the edge of my tongue receded—I knew I couldn’t handle another second. “A lot better! A lot better! You’re amazing! Oh my God, you’re so amazing!” My voice echoed off the walls of his bedroom, and he smiled like the devil.

  “Aw, thanks, LoLo. I think you’re pretty great, too.” He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth and released my arms.

  Finally free from all physical and emotional restraint, I shouted, “You’re such a bastard,” and slapped him firmly on the chest.

  He just laughed and hopped off the bed. “Get your ass out of bed, lazybones. Let’s eat before our food gets cold,” he called over his shoulder as he walked out toward the kitchen.

  Disappointment pooled in the center of my pursed lips.

  Who cared about cold food? That’s what a fucking microwave was for. All that foreplay in the form of horseplay had primed my appetite—and the hankering wasn’t for Italian. The menu in my mind featured a rare delicacy that was Reed, preferably naked and inside me.

  As I lay there, sprawled out over his sheets alone, I turned onto my belly and buried my face into his pillow and inhaled. Hints of his body wash and a scent that was only him hit my nostrils and I moaned.

  Good God, he made me crazy.

  You totally love him.

  I totally did, and more than that, I even smiled at the thought.

  Somehow, Reed had inserted himself into my life, and I had fallen—hard. I was in love with his existential brilliance and the way he made me want to be a better version of me. I loved that while he challenged me, he also supported me and encouraged me. And I loved his surprises and his playfulness and the way he could always make me laugh.

  I even loved his stupid lies and his beautiful truths and his kind soul.

  But mostly, I loved him.

  I was in love with Reed, and I was ready for him to be a constant in my life. My human version of Delilah. My person. My best friend and my lover. The only person I wanted to share everything with—my mind, my soul, and my heart.

  I smiled, and like a lovesick weirdo, I took one last inhale from his pillow.

  Yeah. I totally loved him.

  Maybe you should tell him…

  Jesus. My brain needed to slow its roll.

  “Come on, LoLo!” His voice echoed down the hall and into his room. “Better hurry up before I start digging into your garlic bread.”

  I hopped off the bed and, ironically, silently thanked Reed for the diversion.

  Yeah, just focus on the garlic bread and worry about that whole telling Reed you love him thing later…

  Belly full and after-meal sleepy eyes on display, I sighed in contentment and propped my legs on Re
ed’s lap.

  I’d made myself comfortable sprawled out on his sectional while he flipped through the channels in search of something interesting to watch, and it felt like the napping portion of the evening was set to commence.

  We had consumed—more like, inhaled—the Italian takeout while making random chitchat about inconsequential things like the weather, a new Mexican restaurant that had just opened downtown, and which parks gave the best view of the city, but there hadn’t been much else.

  No insulting theories, no lessons on perspective, and no teasing touches or stolen kisses to speak of.

  Basically, we were all kinds of off.

  Reed and I didn’t do small talk. When we conversed, it was about more than the fucking temperature and fog index. It was deep and all-encompassing, and the emotion behind it was truthful even when the words were lies.

  This was an almost frightening version of the opposite. Fake smiles and guarded emotion, the two of us danced around each other like strangers. The truth was, there’d been more emotional closeness when I’d hated the son of a bitch.

  I wasn’t sure if it was him or me causing the weirdness—or maybe it was both.

  I couldn’t deny the wheels of my brain had been spinning overtime since my revelation of love had occurred on his bed. There had been several times throughout dinner that I’d had the urge to yell out a cheesy declaration, but thankfully, stopped myself from doing it with a mouthful of garlic bread. Most people didn’t want to be sprayed in the face with soggy breadcrumbs while hearing I love you for the first time.

  But he’d been acting a little strange since I had shown up at his apartment too, and I wondered if it had something to do with his old college buddy.

  I let my gaze wander toward him and took in his furrowed brow and the firm line of his normally relaxed lips. His eyes stayed fixated toward the TV as he clicked mindlessly through the channels. I honestly wasn’t sure if he really even noticed my presence or the fact that I was staring at him. He was completely in his own world.

  Yeah. Something’s gotta give here…