Page 40 of Revelation

There’s a long beat before I’m able to speak without laughing. “So you’re saying you’ve got a porno-version ofThe Bodyguardthat plays inside your head?” I say evenly, trying my damnedest not to laugh.

She makes a face. “You’re making fun of me? I’m telling you my deepest, darkest, hottest fantasies and you’relaughingat me?”

I can’t contain myself anymore. I burst out laughing. “No, I’m not making fun of you, I swear. I’m sorry, babe. Continue. I’m loving this.”

“I’ve seenThe Bodyguardlike twenty times, okay? And I’ve always wanted to be Whitney. Stop laughing at me.”

I bite my lip, trying to stop laughing. “It sounds amazing. What else?”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you now.” She crosses her arms over her chest in a huff. “You’re supposed to be making me feel safe enough to disclose my innermost thoughts, Josh—you know, luring me into some kind ofemotional intimacy—not making me feel like a completeweirdo.”

I laugh. “I should have warned you—I suck at emotional intimacy.”

“Obviously,” she says. But there’s a gleam in her eye.

I touch her chin again. “I’m sorry, PG. Please forgive me. I’m a dick.”

She pouts.

“Tell me more, babe. Tell me every last thing that turns you on. I wanna know. Don’t hold back.”

“No. You’re just gonna laugh at me.” She sticks out her lower lip.

“Never. Well, okay, I might laugh. But that doesn’t mean anything. I laugh at everything. That’s just who I am. I love hearing your fantasies, I swear.”

“I have a lot of ’em, you know,” she sniffs. “A lot.”

“Are they all as elaborate as the ones you just told me about?”

She considers. “Yeah, pretty much. I have an extremely active imagination.”

“Come on, babe. Tell me everything. I might laugh, but only because I think you’re so fucking adorable.”

“I’ll tell you if you answer one honesty-game question for me.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Why did Emma call you a sick fuck?”

My stomach instantly clenches.

“I don’t get it,” Kat continues. “Did you ask her to do something beyond what you wrote in your application? Because the stuff you wrote is kinky, sure, but not enough to make a girl call you names and run off with a guy wearing an ascot.”

I exhale. “It’s complicated.”

There’s a long beat.

“What’s complicated about it?” she finally asks.

“I’d really rather talk about you and your mini-pornos. I’ve totally moved on from Emma. I really have.”

“But I want to understand. Just answer this and I won’t beat a dead horse, I promise. Did you ask her for something beyond what you wrote about in your application? Is there something else you fantasize about that you didn’t write about—something you haven’t told me yet? Because I want to know it all.”

I shake my head. “What I put in my application is pretty much it. And it’s what I told her about—well, actually, just the savior thing. I never even told her about the threesome thing. I’d planned to tell her that, too, but once I’d told her about the bondage-savior fantasy, it became clear there was no point in telling her anything else.”

She twists her mouth. “But why? I don’t understand. Was she really conservative or something? Was she a virgin?”

I take a long time, figuring out what to say. I breathe deeply and finally decide there’s no way, other than to just say it. “Emma’s sexuality was complicated.” I exhale. “Everything about Emma was complicated, actually. She’d been brutally raped as a teenager and she was deeply traumatized by the experience.” My stomach is turning over. “Understandably. So she needed a lot of extra tenderness... I mean, sex was just really tricky for her because she was really... you know, like I said, traumatized. So... yeah.” I exhale. “I was always really patient and gentle with her and... we were together a really long time, and I wanted to try to help her, and then I just started to... you know... the reality was I started to have needs and she wasn’t meeting them. And I felt really guilty about that, considering what she’d been through... But she kept pushing me to be honest with her... accusing me of wanting more than she could give me... and when I finally decided to open up and tell her everything about my past, and my mother, and about my fantasies, and I finally told her what I wanted to try, just to see if maybe the experience would maybe somehow quietthe raging voices in my head. Well, that shit didn’t fly with her. In fact, nothing about me worked for her in the end.Nothing.” I run my hands through my hair. “I’ve thought about it a lot—why I was so attracted to her when we were obviously such a mismatch. Being with her was like banging my head into a brick wall, day after day. But I just wanted so badly to take care of her.” I pause, thinking. “I sometimes sit and think about why the fuck I get turned on by certain things other guys probably don’t. And when I analyze myself, I realize, yeah, I reallyama sick fuck. I mean, getting off on the shit I do, when you think about what happened to my mom, it’s pretty demented.” I stop myself. My face is hot. I put my hands over my face, collecting myself.Fuck.

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