July 15

“Still glad I asked you to play?” Drew is grinning, his buzz cut glistening with sweat. He’s in town visiting me and currently kicking my ass in our first racquetball game, 13-7, but I could get him in a tiebreaker if I win the second game. Loser buys the beer afterwards, which for me, is the whole motivation behind racquetball, anyway. That, and it’s a way for me to burn off some serious sexual energy.

“Shut up and serve.”

Drew laughs and drops the ball, bringing his racquet back. He hits the ball squarely off the front wall as I position myself for a return. We go back and forth in a long rally, our sneakers squeaking and profanities echoing off the white walls, before I two-bounce it and give the bastard another point.

“Fuck.” I call time to open the door and swipe my water bottle from just outside it.

“Whatsa matter, bud? You’re a little off your game.”

Catching my breath, I take a long swig from the bottle. “Preoccupied with my latest project, I guess.”

“Latest project...or latest pussy?”

“Ha! Both.”

“Nice. Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Fair enough. You ready to finish this one? I’m one point away, baby.”

“There’s a whole other game after this one, cupcake.”

Drew snorts, and I follow him back onto the court. He wins on a well-placed shot into the corner, and goes on to win the second game by six. So I sucked ass today, but after a good hot shower and a few beers at Black Bear Brewing, one of my favorite pubs, I’m feeling more relaxed, and I’ll call it mission accomplished. And I’m relaxed or buzzed or idiotic enough to ask Drew about New England Home Supply. As warehouse manager of the main distribution center in Scarborough, Drew’s always up on the latest scuttlebutt.

“Well, let’s see...do you want to know about the business, or the people in the business, or how things are going for me professionally as the best damned manager in the history of ever?”

“All of it. Fucking lay it on me.” I take a handful of peanuts from the bowl on our table.

“All right. Your father’s still basically a prick, first of all, because I know that’s what you’re wondering. But then again, you know a leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“Very true. What else?”

“That bimbo Marsha in accounting was promoted to vice president of finance, if you can even fucking believe it. She must have to wash her knees after every shift, for Christ’s sake.”

I spit my beer down the front of me. “Jesus, you’re too much.”

“Yup. We’re all about helping people achieve their dreams at New England Home Supply. I know you must miss it.”

“I cry into my pillow every night. So how’s the business doing overall?”

“I know how much you want the company to tank, but there’s a rumor we’re going to open a new store in Concord, New Hampshire.”

“Ah, shit. Seriously?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Drew looks at me closely. “I’ve got some other news, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

“Oh, what the fuck. Just tell me. I can get shit-faced after if I need to, since you’re driving.”

He sighs. “It’s probably better that you hear it from me first, but Brianne and James are engaged.”

The news shouldn’t be surprising, but it feels like a hornet sting—the initial piercing jab, the biting venom as it spreads and burns.

“Sorry, pal. I know it sucks.”

I drain my glass. “No worries. I’m at the point now of thinking they deserve each other.”

“They do. I give ‘em three years, tops. She’ll pop out a kid, he’ll be wigged out by her stretch marks and move on to some other gold digger who doesn’t give head.”

“You paint such a romantic picture.”

Drew shrugs and grins. “I’m a realist. But hey, you’re doing what you enjoy, and I guess I should also add who you enjoy. Lucky bastard.”

This would be the perfect opportunity to go into gory detail about my latest exploits, but I’m not feeling it right now. Even though I just met her, I already know that Madeline isn’t the type I want to share. For one thing, she definitely wouldn’t appreciate it, and for another...I don’t know. I guess I just want to keep it to myself. Part of it is, underneath that aloof facade she’s got going on, she has this vulnerable quality, and I’m a sucker for that.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around what it did to me just to kiss her. Man, I wanted her, bad. It about killed me to stop, but I knew if I didn’t, I’d scare her off and there might not be a next time. And Jesus, I want a next time. I want a boatload of next times. She was definitely into it, but there was a point where the vibe shifted, and I had to put on the brakes. Some women—quite a few of them, actually—have been ready to rock and roll from the moment we meet. I’m good with that—mutually satisfying, uncomplicated fucking works best for me. I have no doubt I’ll get there with Madeline, but it may take a little while. Ease her into it, so she’s not overwhelmed.

Christ, if the kissing is this good with her, I can only imagine how good the sex will be.

The anaconda and I are looking forward to finding out.

“Dude. Hey. Where’d you go?” Drew is looking at me with raised eyebrows.

“Little mental trip to a renovation I’m doing in Surry. But I’m back.”

“Alrighty. So are you okay about Brianne and James?”

“Yeah. Fuck ‘em.” I raise my beer glass and Drew does the same, in a mock toast to my former fiancée and her engagement.

Her engagement to my brother.