Page 22 of Man Hands
Idon’t knowhow long we’ve been here, but it’s long enough that I’m drunk. Not on alcohol, actually. I’m drunk with desire. My dick is as hard as rebar, and every few minutes he makes a noise of complaint, and I have to adjust myself just to shuthimup.
“So then,” I say, and for a second I forget what I was talking about. We are surrounded by empty platters of appetizers: sticky buns, pupu platters, crispy wonton strips. Everything sounds sexual to me. It just does. “I’m sorry,” I admit. “I have no idea what I wassaying.”
“You were saying something about why you’re currentlyunemployed.” The way Brynn says the word, it’s like I should get a ribbon or something. Like she’s comfortedbythat.
“Technically, I’m on hiatus,” I say, and then I giggle. Me. A thirty-eight-year-old man. I giggle. Because suddenly, hiatus sounds a lot like high-anus. I don’t really find that sexual. “We’re on high-anus,” I say. I said it. I did.Outloud.
She snorts. “Why? Did you get bored of traveling the world? Meeting exotic women? Playing Mr. Fixit in too manylocales?”
She’s laughing, and I want to snuggle my manness into her femaleness. But I’m serious. I’m so serious that I’m nodding. “I’m serious. That is exactly what happened. I mean, I’ve been doing this show for nine seasons now and it’s always the same, you know? Go into some house, tear shit down, pound it back up, flirt a little, do too much cocaine, sky dive naked, inject…” Her mouth is open. Wide. I laugh. “I was just seeing if you were payingattention.”
“I’m loopy,” she says. “But I can still pay attention. Please tell me that last part isn’t true.” She looks at me with this kind of plea in her eyes, and I want to scoop her into my arms and make everything better. Like, everything. The world. Politics. Cable television. I want to healeverything.
“I don’t do drugs. Strictly against it. But I do like to benaked.”
“While skydiving?”
“Well, no. There’d be too much…flapping. And you sort of need a parachute for, you know, your life and all. But in my own home, I’m nakedalot.”
“You just walk around naked?” she asks. She seems genuinelyinterested.
I nod. “Sometimes.” I lean in and whisper, “I don’t even walk around. Sometimes I just sitthere.”
“And do what? Oh, god! Don’tanswerthat!”
“I just sit on my couch and watch Netflix. There’s some quality programmingthere.”
She laughs, and I laugh too. And yes, it’s because we’re both “loopy” and full of Chinese takeout-type food, and the lighting is dark and moody, and I’m comfortable and horny, yes, all of that, but there’s something else. There’s an easiness about her that feels just…like she doesn’t need fixingatall.
“Come home with me,” I say, all conversation about work abandoned. We can get into that later. But for right now, I’m serious. For real. I want her to come home with me. “Spend thenight.”
“With you? Naked?” She draws out the word a little, like she’s weighingtheidea.
I’m way past weighing, though. The only thing I want is to be home, in a real bed, with this woman. “Exactly. Let’s go get very, verynaked.”
Her eyes darken, and she takes a quick breath. Then she lets out a littlewhimper.
We are definitely getting some tonight, mydicksays.
Hush, I warn him. Silentlythistime.
“I can’t,” she says, sitting back in herchair.
Wait,really?
“Wait, really?” I say aloud. “Is there someone else?” This idea panics me, and not just because I don’t like cheaters. I’m so wound up right now that the idea of someone else putting his mitts on Brynn makes me feel a littleinsane.
Slowly, she shakes her head. “I can’t, because we’llruinit.”
“Ruinwhat?”
“The boathouse,” she whispers. “It wasperfect.”
I run this statement through my brain a few times, trying to figure out what’s wrong. I’ve never been super smart, but this just doesn’t make sense. “It was perfect,” I agree. “You don’t think I can bring the magic again? Hell. I’m justwarmingup.”
Her eyes flare. But then she shakes it off. “I really can’t take that risk. You of all people should understand, since you knowHollywood.”
“What?” My show is produced out of New York. But it’s rude to correct a lady, and it’s just stupid to argue with someone you’re trying to getnaked.
