“That’s it. That is the real story.”
Her sister’s mouth tightened and she stabbed her salad with her fork in silence for a moment before taking a long sip of her ice water. “I really, really hope not.” She spoke around her straw in a voice quivering with rage. “Because you clearly have no idea how fucking insane and scary that sounds.”
Kimber frowned. “It—”
“It’s fucking insane and scary,” Ferney repeated, slamming her glass on the table. “What isn’t completely messed up and dangerous about fucking and falling for someone you know nothing about and couldn’t even pick out of a lineup? He could be a murderer, Kimber, or a serial rapist spreading AIDS. What if you get pregnant with this psychopath’s baby? Jesus Christ.”
“We’ve been careful, and he’s not a murderer. Or a rapist, for that matter.”
“Confirm that. Oh, wait, you totally can’t, because you have no goddamn idea who he is.”
“I can just tell, okay?” Kimber heaved an annoyed sigh, knowing her argument was weak. She could hardly fault her sister when she shared the same fears, the ones she’d ignored since Jay and Moquest knew about her situation and hadn’t been so concerned about the danger factor. “Just trust me on this. I can tell by the way he touches me, like he truly cares about me, like he instinctively knows what I want.”
“Yeah, well, I read this book once about a blind serial killer who also touched his victims with all the love in the world. Then he got bored of them, hacked them into pieces, and made sculptures out of their body parts.”
Kimber stared at her sister, agape. “What the hell were you doing reading that?” She couldn’t picture her sister reading something more intense or complex than hair coloring instructions, and even then Ferney left her highlights to the professionals.
“Paul sometimes gets me to read crazy shit. You know, Paul, my real life fiancé whom I can see and whose name I know and whom I’ve had conversations with and—”
“Okay, you’ve made your point.” Kimber rolled her napkin in a tiny rope around her fingers, trying not to focus on the tears pricking her eyes and the hopelessness spreading through her like ink in water.
Ferney sighed. “Look, I’m just worried about you, okay? I’m not undermining your feelings. I’m sure they’re real. I see you’ve got that glow about you, and of course I want you to always look so happy. But think about what you’re doing, and think about why this guy hasn’t given up his anonymity yet. There’s a reason.”
“Uh huh.” Kimber nodded with reluctance and tossed her mistreated napkin atop her half-eaten lunch, but Ferney had tapped into what she felt was the biggest question of all. Why didn’t he want her to know who he was? What could he be hiding that was so bad?
* * *
Jay found Kimber on her break the next day, ordering a veggie wrap in the food court and wearing a forlorn expression that used to trigger his immediate and often correct assumption that Dane did something stupid again. However, she hadn’t had much to say on that front lately, so he could only wonder what her issue was about—or who. He had a hunch he wouldn’t feel good knowing the truth.
“Hey.” He sat opposite her in the booth she sat in and watched her morosely arrange some ridged potato chips inside the wrap’s folds. “What’s wrong?”
“What makes you think something’s wrong?” she asked, her voice flat.
“Come on. Do you really think I don’t notice when you’re not acting like Kimber?”
“That’s because I’m not Kimber.” She fixed her gaze on him, her mouth drooping into a frown. “I’m an idiot.”
“How do you figure?”
“Please.” She pushed her wrap away, granting herself the room to bury her face in her hands. “Stop being nice and pretending you don’t know what a complete fool I’ve been, getting my hopes up over some total stranger who basically told me to fuck off. Where do I get off, assuming he doesn’t really mean that? Like I said, I’m an idiot. I know it, you know it, the world knows it.” She sighed. “Too bad my stupid heart doesn’t know it.”
Jay snagged a chip from her wrap’s red plastic basket and ate it, but the effort was for show. Guilt filled his gut, obliterating his appetite. “Yesterday you were all systems go no matter what. What happened to that?”
“I actually took some time and thought about it, like a normal, logical person with morals and a brain.” Kimber looked at Jay with eyes that unnerved him; they were so full of despair. “And now—at last—I feel like the worst person in the world. Can you even imagine how that feels?”
He ate another chip but couldn’t taste it. He had no idea what he could possibly say. Here was the meltdown he’d expected yesterday, and he was still clueless how to fix it. He stole a third chip to buy time.
“Hey.” Kimber straightened and tugged the basket back toward her, a small, begrudging smile on her face. “Save some for me. I’m not so depressed I can’t eat.”
He breathed a relieved laugh. “There’s some good news.”
“There’s no such thing as good news anymore.” Moquest suddenly sank in the booth beside Kimber and hid his face in his hands as Kimber had done just moments ago. “All the goodness in the world has ceased to exist.”
Kimber took a small bite of her wrap, the potato chips she’d hidden in there popping in her mouth. “What happened?”
Moquest raised his face to the ceiling and took a deep inhale through his nose, steepling his fingers before his mouth. “My beautiful ex-stripper is now my beautiful ex-girlfriend.”
“Maybe because you keep referring to her as an ex-stripper,” Jay said. “What is her name again?”
“What’s it matter? She hates me now.”
“What’d you do?” asked Kimber. “Did one of your lame pick-up lines finally work on someone other than her?”
“Surprisingly, yes. I told one of the girls playing
Just Dance
at the party the other night—the naughty nurse—that I liked her socks, and the next thing I knew, Gina caught us making out in the bed of my truck.”
“Commenting on a girl’s socks was all it took?” Kimber shook her head. “Damn.”
“I know, right?” Moquest asked. “If I’d known socks were key in the art of seduction, I’d have been noticing them years ago.” He sighed. “But because of my attention to detail, I lost Gina.”
Jay rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll meet another theme girlfriend at your next little get-together. The French maid or the pirate wench, maybe.”
Moquest narrowed his eyes at Jay. “That’s impossible, considering I’m not having any more parties. I’m too depressed to play host.”
“No more parties?” A stricken look appeared on Kimber’s already distraught face and Jay could tell what she was thinking, despite her self-defined foolish feelings. “Then you have to tell me who that guy was.”
“What guy?” Moquest groaned, rubbing his temples.
Kimber blushed. “
My
guy.”
Moquest looked at her, then shot Jay a pointed look. “I thought he was supposed to tell you himself the other night.”
“Well, he didn’t get around to it, I guess. Maybe he got scared.”
“I’ll bet.” Moquest snorted and shook his head, still staring at Jay. “What a little bitch that guy is, pussing out like that.”
Jay toyed with the salt and pepper shakers, glad Kimber was hiding her embarrassment in her wrap and not noticing the glares he and Moquest exchanged. “I’m sure he had his reasons for keeping his identity a secret.”
“Yeah.” Moquest nodded, his mouth twisting in mock sympathy. “Like he’s a hideous, disfigured beast who just wanted to rail some chick without commitment but not have the guts to be straightforward about it.” He patted Kimber on the shoulder. “I’m sorry I ever set you up with that tool. I’d no idea he could be such a heartless, soulless prick.”
Kimber’s eyes widened in alarm. “Matthew!”
Jay stretched his hands behind his head and blew out a stream of air, composing a mental note to beat the hell out of Moquest the second they were alone. “Look, here’s an idea. Mo, since you’re suddenly a huge party pooper and an even bigger dick, you should tell the guy to meet Kimber at a certain hotel at a certain time wearing the blindfold and let him explain himself on his own terms when they’re both completely alone. I’m sure he’d be willing to do that.”
Moquest heaved a dramatic sigh. “How did I get to be so involved in such tedious bullshit? This blows so hard I can’t stand it.”
“Please?” Kimber turned her pleading gaze to Moquest. “I need closure in the worst way. Please help me out so I can sleep at night.”
Moquest scrunched up his face in disgust and kicked his feet in protest under the table, a bratty habit leftover from his youth spent as a histrionic only child, but Jay knew he would never turn a girl down, no matter what she asked of him. It was how Moquest had, for three months during their freshman year of college, smuggled and kept a kitten in his dorm room at the behest of an attractive co-ed, who never repaid him in the way Moquest hoped. And Moquest thought Jay’s unrequited love was pathetic.
“Fine,” Moquest said through gritted teeth. “But this is the absolute last time I’m getting involved.” He shot Jay another murderous look. “And if he doesn’t tell you the whole truth, I’m gonna kick his ass.”
“Good luck trying,” Jay quipped, but his insides felt like the aftermath of a cyclone. It was time to own up to the truth, and he hoped in the worst way he could find the strength to do it.
* * *
“I’ve been given instructions to blindfold you before you go into the room.”
Kimber noted Moquest’s flat, unenthusiastic tone suggesting his disapproval with the whole scenario, which he’d expressed at lunch with her and Jay the day before, but she was too excited to care. She could feel how wet she already was at the thought of her mystery lover’s impending nearness and sucked in a trembling gulp of air as Moquest positioned her outside a hotel room marked with a brass 495 and draped a black sash over her eyes, her world going dark. The blindfold matched her outfit—a simple black dress she’d found in the back of her closet. It was a few years old but if the evening proved successful she didn’t think she’d be wearing it long.
“That comfortable?”
She nodded, and he tightened and tied it with a grunt of satisfaction.
“You’re all set then.” His fingertips probed her cheeks, teasing the edge of the blindfold. “You can’t see, can you?”
“No, I can’t see.” She swatted Moquest’s hand away. “Get off me.”
“Ah hah. If you really couldn’t see, then you wouldn’t have known it was me touching you.” Despite his gloating, she detected the edge to his voice.
“Call it female intuition and just open the door.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “Good luck. And Kim? Don’t forget to get some answers this time.”
She saluted him with two fingers and heard him knock, which was followed by a pause that lasted ages. Finally, the door yawned open and
his
presence drowned her senses in emotions too complicated to comprehend. She wondered if she ought to feel like a whore and be embarrassed, standing blindfolded in a hotel hallway and waiting for Moquest pass her into the room of an awaiting stranger who would fuck all the remaining sense right out of her. Yet for reasons she couldn’t explain, none of it mattered. She couldn’t justify why she felt how she did, why she sensed she was in safe, more than capable hands. She just wanted to go with it.
A warm hand entwined itself with hers and tugged her into the room, and the vague brightness of the hallway seeping through the sash vanished in favor of total darkness as the door slammed behind her. Soon she was pinned between the wall and
his
body, and just the smell of him—cologne with an underlying hint of some familiar scent that reassured her—sent her spiraling.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” His breath was hot on her collarbone as his lips worked their way to her ear.
“Oh?” She tried to sound cool and in control but was sure her audible gulp gave her away. “What about me?”
“Everything about you.” His mouth teased the shell of her ear and he pressed his body into her, his cock already hard and straining against the barrier of their clothes. “Everything about you turns me on.”
“Everything?” The word was a squeak as she felt his hands make their way up the outside of her legs. “Not possible. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I want to know what a good girl like you is doing, meeting me like this.”
“I’m not so good. For starters, I forgot to wear panties.”