Page 16 of Bobby Green
Reg pulled his pants over his cock and said, “So, uh, will I see you around the gym?”
She shook her head. “Are you kidding? After this I’m doing the women’s-only gym across the street. Jesus, what a letdown.”
She slammed the door, and he adjusted himself before turning the key and making his way to Tango’s. That day, as he and Dex and Kane were painting Tango’s trim a really unusual shade of blue, he asked Dex, “Hey, is it too late to have a porn name?”
Dex had blond hair and blue eyes, so not like John at all—not even any freckles—but he still got some of the same looks on his face when Reg talked. Reg wondered if they were brothers.
“No,” he said, drawing the word out like he was buying time. “Why would you want a porn name now, Reg?”
Reg shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about the girl and the sort of weird and subtle way she’d hurt his feelings. “I dunno. Just, maybe want to be someone else for a little?”
He smiled gamely and pulled on his thinning brown hair. He tended to have it cut different once a month, because it wasn’t thick and he liked to hide that, but it had grown out a little since his last do. “I could, you know, cut it. Dye it. It would be like a whole new me!”
Dex shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “Why not? You get your hair done, and we’ll take some new pictures for the site when we’re doing your next shoot. Replace the pictures, replace the name, keep the stats….” He wrinkled his nose. “Do you mind if we keep your backlist? I don’t know if people will link the two, but you’ve made alotof movies in the last nine years, Reg. You still make money off them. I’d hate for you to lose that.”
Reg shrugged. “It’s not like people can’t figure it out,” he said. “I just want to be able to say, ‘No, you got me mixed up with that other guy’ and mean it.”
Dex let out a laugh. “So, what do you want your new name to be?”
“I’ll have to think about that,” he said, shoulders slumping.
“Should be Digger,” Kane said, walking by and not even bothering to pretend he hadn’t listened in. Reg liked Kane. He was simple.
“Why Digger?”
Kane grinned at him. “’Cause last time we fucked, it was like you were digging in my ass with a four-by-four. I couldn’t walk for three days!”
General laughter then, and Reg laughed too.
“Digger,” he said. “I like it.”
Dex was staring at Kane with a sort of awe. “It’s like genius,” he said, shaking his head. “But…not.”
“Totally genius,” Reg said. “I mean,total. I’d totally give him a blowjob for that, but that guy’s not ever hard up.”
Dex grunted. “You shouldn’t be either.” He shivered then. “Hey, Tango—it’s gonna rain here. Maybe finish the home improvement in the spring, you think?”
Well, early November got pretty cold in Sacramento, even on a nice sunny day like this one.
“Dammit! I was hoping to finish before I flew to Florida!” Tango was a good-looking guy—dark hair, snapping black eyes, pale skin—but he kind of snarled when he talked, and he moved so much it made Reg nervous. Reg liked him, but he tried not to be too stupid around Tango, just on general principle.
“You going to Florida?” Reg asked wistfully. John had offered to fly him out there to do location shoots, but Reg couldn’t leave town that long.
“Yeah,” Tango said, coming by and taking Reg’s paintbrush and little paint can from him. “You got that pole real good, Reg. Sorry you can’t come to Florida with us, though.”
Dex grunted. “Yeah—I’d love to get you out of this city, just once, you know?”
“Well, I can go,” Reg said. “Just on day trips. You know, so I can—”
“Take care of your sister.” Dex shrugged and kept dabbing since Tommy hadn’t takenhispaint can. “Reg, I try not to say this too often, but is there any way you could get some help with her?”
Reg swallowed. “I don’t want to talk about that,” he said. Because Veronica had tricked him this last time, and he’d figured it out, but she wouldn’t admit it. The pills made her sweet and all, but she could still be cunning when she wanted, and Reg wasn’t smart enough to go up against cunning.
“Okay, buddy,” Dex said kindly.
Reg had given thanks that day, because Dex reminded him that people at Johnnies were good to him. He could have been at McDonald’s, and he wasn’t sure they would have understood quite so good.
He wouldn’t have had time to work out either, and his body had gottenwaybetter since that first audition with John. He’d declined to wax his pubes, though, not after the first time made him cry. John had soothed him that day, giving him a painkiller and some ice cream—and some ice for his crotch—and they’d never made Reg wax again.
