Page 74 of Things We Fake
“Ooh, it’s not just big—it’s bold.” Jesse pointed at the red lettering emblazoned across the side.
Intimate Playground: Deluxe BDSM Sex Swing
My jaw dropped as my brain registered the rest of the packaging. Next to the logo was a full-color photo of a woman in a skimpy black corset and sky-high leather boots, suspended mid-air in a very compromising position on the swing. Her male partner, equally underdressed, was gripping her legs as though auditioning for a Cirque du Soleil burlesque show. Similar images adorned each side of the enormous box.
“Oh my God,” I croaked.
“Oh yeah. Who’s your daddy?” Jesse’s face lit up with unholy glee. “Which neighbor do you think ordered it? I’ll put twenty bucks on Savanna upstairs. You know she works at a sex club, right? Bacchus.”
I blinked, trying to process the sheer level of mortification that box would bring to its owner.
“It can only be for her. That poor guy has to haul that thing up three flights of stairs.”
I shuddered and returned to my spot on the couch. “Anyway, have you had dinner yet? I’m starving.”
She lifted the bag of pretzels. “This is it. It’s a prelude to the pizza I’m expecting. Have some more.”
I heard a loud thud outside my door, as though someone had set down something very heavy.
I turned to Jesse, dread pooling in my stomach. “You didn’t ask for your pizza to be delivered here, did you?”
“Nope.” Jesse’s whisper was tinged with both excitement and mock horror. “Could that sex swing be for Sebastian? Or Cam?”
Three sharp knocks landed on my door. Jesse perked up like a meerkat. “Well, guess we’re about to find out.”
I shot her a panicked look. “Don’t open it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Relax, I won’t. But you have to. Be a good neighbor.”
“I don’t want to.”
My heart raced as I approached the door. Maybe it was for Sebastian. Or for Mrs. Vicars, or Mr. Yamaguchi. Or literally anyone else on the planet. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.
The delivery guy glanced at the clipboard in his hand. “Delivery for a Susanne Morelli?”
“What?” I sputtered.
Jesse, who had practically launched herself off the couch, leaned over my shoulder, her grin spread wider than the legs of the woman on the box. “Oh, this is good.”
“No, no, no, there’s a mistake,” I stammered. “I didn’t order anything.”
The delivery guy frowned and held up the clipboard. “It’s all here. Apartment 2A. Susanne Morelli.”
I could feel my cheeks turning scarlet. “But I didn’t—”
“Is there a problem?”
I froze. Cam’s voice came from behind the delivery guy, and I peeked around the box to see him standing in the hallway. Of course, it had to be him. The universe wouldn’t pass up a chance to humiliate me further in front of this man.
His eyebrows rose as he took in the box. “What’s that?”
Before I could answer, Jesse helpfully piped up. “It’s a BDSM sex swing. It’s a present for Sue.”
Cam’s lips twitched as though he were trying not to laugh. “Am I supposed to be seeing this?”
“No one is supposed to be seeing this, and it’s not mine!” I said, my voice an octave higher than usual.
The delivery guy shrugged. “Look, lady, it’s paid for and non-refundable. I ain’t hauling this thing down the stairs again, so are you going to keep it or not?”
