Page 35 of Misbehaving

“I can get it up, I swear,” Henry said. “Like five times a day. And she knows that.”

The third book was a guide for women on how to use a strap-on dildo to have anal intercourse with the men in their lives. If that wasn’t enough, the book came with its own harness and dildo, plus a small package of lubricant.

“She’s never once said anything about our sex life not being enough for her,” Henry said, collapsing into a chair. “She’s never once said she wants to see other people. I asked her once if she wanted to try kinky stuff because she was reading that one kinky book.”

“There’s more than one.”

“Whatever. She said no, that she just liked reading about it and didn’t want to do it. Apparently she lied because my fiancée wants to have sex with other guys and fuck me up the butt.”

“Maybe she just wants to fuck the other guys up the butt, and not you.”

“If she’s going to fuck any guy up the butt, it’ll be me.” Henry pointed at himself.

“I’d let her if I were you, man. She’s pissed. Crying her fucking heart out right now. And Beatriz is going to kill you and me both.”

Henry winced. “I pissed Beatriz off? She’s scary.”

“She’s Spanish-speaking pissed.”

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Henry asked.

“You are. She’s furious at both of us. She thinks we’re in this together, just like in college when you made me dump her.”

“I didn’t make you dump her. I asked you not to pursue her. You didn’t even put up a fight.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have your parents’ money. I didn’t want to fuck up my one chance to get a decent job.”

“Fuck that. You already had the job offer. You were just scared of dating someone who had it more together than you did. That’s why you dated dumb girls and then broke up with them when you couldn’t stand to be around them anymore. Beatriz would have made you work and think. I had a girlfriend in college. I still got a good job and had a great life. So don’t blame me for you being a pussy over Beatriz. You like to think you were being all loyal to your best friend by staying away from her. We both know you were just scared of the real deal.”

Ben couldn’t speak. He only looked at Henry curled up in the chair looking more scared and miserable than he’d ever seen the man look in his life.

“When did you get so perceptive?” Ben asked.

“I’m not perceptive.” Henry rolled his eyes. “I just saw through your bullshit.”

“Which is the actual literal definition of perceptive.”

“Fine,” Henry said. “I’m perceptive. I’m also fucked. Up the butt, apparently.” He swept his arm toward the bed and the pile of books and sex toys.

Ben stared at the books and sex toys on the bed. He had to admit it didn’t look good for Claudia. He didn’t have a problem with couples wanting to swing, choosing to be in open relationships or using sex toys. But Henry and Claudia were a nice, staid, stable, happy, monogamous, vanilla couple. Finding out his almost-wife wanted to sleep with other guys and use a strap-on on him and be in an open relationship would freak out anyone on the planet. Anyone except Beatriz probably. She probably already owned all these books. And he already knew she had sex toys and dildos and the like. In fact… the contents of the box looked like something Beatriz would have delivered to her, not Claudia.

“Dude, hand me the box,” Ben said, and with a desultory sigh, Henry picked up the box and tossed it at him.

Ben examined the box for labels, for any clues at all. Henry and Keaton hadn’t been wrong. The box was clearly addressed to Claudia Spears. But right after her name was the word “Attention.” Attention who? Attention what? The rest of the sentence had been cut off.

“It says‘Claudia Spears,’” Ben said, “but after it, the label says‘Attention’like it was supposed to go to the attention of someone else.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “It does?”

“I wonder…” Ben looked at the UPS label again. The box had been sent by someone named John Prinz. He grabbed the hotel phone and called Beatriz’s room number.

She answered on the first ring. “Ben?”

“Do you know some guy named John Prinz?”

“Ben, what the hell—”

“You can yell at me all you want later,” Ben said. “Just answer the question. John Prinz? You know him?”

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