Page 68 of A Fool's Game

The walls are painted a bluish sage green, which is contrasted perfectly by the dark wood of his headboard and nightstands. A burnt orange duvet covers the bed in a quick morning bed-make. The one you would do if you didn’t think you had company coming over.

The rug in here is deep and soft, covering almost the entirety of the gray wood flooring. Over the bed he has a watercolor of the sunset over the San Juan Islands that could have been taken from the wall of a gallery. Hell, it probably was.

The greatest signs of life come from the far corner, where a hamper props open the door to a dark walk-in closet, and a brown leather chair draped with T-shirts and jeans sits next to it. The low dresser is scattered with crumpled notes, charging cords, pens, and watches.

He probably chose this room for the window. I know I would have.I walk over and look out, the dark Seattle skyline providing a constellation of lights in the distance. I can’t see it now, but I know come morning, we’ll watch the sky grow bright over a view of the Sound.

On the wide, cream colored windowsill sits one lonely plant. Some kind of orchid in a tiny purple ceramic pot, the kind that grocery stores sell as gifts. Its flower is long since gone, and I know from experience the near impossibility of getting one to bloom again. I stroke my finger down one of its deep green leaves and leave a narrow trail in dust.

“Seriously, man. What’s in all the other rooms?” Taylor asks from the doorway.

Ainsley looks up from where he’s hurrying to tidy up a few things on his dresser and chair. “There’s a bathroom and a couple other bedrooms.”

I can almost feel Taylor bristle from here. “A couple other bedrooms? Just empty bedrooms?”

“I mean, they’re full of bedroom stuff. Like beds and dressers.”

“And they just sit there, empty?” Taylor’s words are loaded, not the kind that really want an answer.

Ainsley gives one anyway, refusing to back down. “Wepicked this place for the location, not because I needed three bedrooms.”

“You know how many people out there would kill for one of those bedrooms?” He takes a step into the room and then another, approaching Ainsley with his arms crossed.

Ainsley steps toward him, crossing his own arms. “You speaking for yourself there, buddy? Or just the millions of starving children in the world who always wanted the peas I didn’t eat at dinner?”

“Conceited fucking prick.”

Ainsley just shrugs as the two stand close enough for their forearms to touch in front of their chests.

I should step in. Right?

Be the woman in the room and break up the fight, tell everyone it’s going to be okay?

Part of me is screaming at me to do just that.

But the other part?

I pull my shirt off and toss it on the chair with the rest of Ainsley’s clothes that he didn’t have a chance to hide. I’m halfway through stripping off my jeans when Taylor notices me and finally breaks the tense staring contest.

“You trying to distract us, witch?”

I shake my head, tossing my pants away. I’m standing in front of the large window, moon high in the sky behind me. I have their attention now, although they stay standing close enough to touch each other.

As I crawl onto the bed, the inner host in Ainsley takes over and he approaches, fluffing the crumpled green throw blanket and smoothing it with his hand.

I start to move toward him, but Taylor jumps into action, crossing the room in three long strides and lifting the leather chair from the corner, letting all the clothes fall carelessly to the floor as he carries it back and sets it next to the bed.

“Sit,”he commands, and it’s clear he isn’t talking to me.

It takes Ainsley a moment, but he finally realizes what’s going on. “You can’t tell me what to do in my own house, asshole.”

Taylor moves swiftly, taking Ainsley by the shoulders, turning him, and pressing him down into the chair. He then stands between Ainsley’s parted knees, a hand still on each shoulder.Ainsley didn’t have to let him do it. He could have fought him off and climbed onto the bed. He could have protested. He could have done a thousand different things.Instead, he sits obediently in the chair, looking straight up at Taylor, whose head is dropped as he stares down at him.

And I can’t take it anymore.

My hand finds its way inside my underwear. The touch sets me on fire, but I bite back any sound, not wanting to alter the course of what’s about to happen.

They could fuck.

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