The next afternoon, Dave walked across the apartment complex, weariness dragging at his eyes and stress tensing his muscles. He’d had another terrible night. He wouldn’t be able to take all-nighters for a while. The feel of Janie had invaded his thoughts each time he ran his hand up the other woman’s leg, or felt her lips on his skin, and his cock had shriveled like a raisin. He’d had to rely on a lot of foreplay and another blue pill, which had made the whole ordeal even longer.

After that, he’d gone to visit his mother, something that had punched a gaping hole through him. He needed to fix the situation permanently, but he still didn’t know how.

He pushed into the apartment and stripped out of his clothes. Old coffee waited in the coffee pot. A note lay in the middle of the cleared-away coffee table.

I’m painting at Lionel and Madison’s. Call if you need anything.

He smiled at the surge of warmth that filled him before glancing at his phone. A new text had come in of a woman giving him the middle finger.

He frowned at it. He recognized her from a gig he’d done a couple weeks ago. She’d been hot as hell but dumb as a box of rocks. She couldn’t keep a conversation going.

One swipe of his thumb brought him to a picture of a big, hairy butt. From him!

“What the—” He scrolled farther up to see the nude pic she’d sent, along with a request to see him again. His response—a hairy butt—was right beneath it.

Had he taken drugs without realizing it? He scanned the date and time.

Yesterday. After he’d gotten home but before Betty’s episode. He must’ve been sleeping.

Chuckles bubbled up through him. Janie. He had no idea where she’d gotten—

Nope, there it was. The hairy butt, in his photos. There was another one, too, this one with a thumbs-up next to it.

She was insane. Hilarious. Gross. And insane.

He tapped out a message to the woman, apologizing, explaining that his nephew had gotten hold of his phone. Also to direct any inquiries to the company website.

He needed to get a work phone so this stuff wouldn’t invade his life anymore. Or maybe just leave his phone out more often so Janie could chase everyone away.

The more perplexing question was…whose butt was that, and why didn’t he wax it?

Dave half hoped he’d never know.

After a shower and a change, he put on a pair of boxers and headed to the couch. There would be no working out or much of anything for the rest of the day. He’d veg, get takeout, and wait for Janie to get home. If she didn’t return by the evening, he’d seek her out…

“Hey, dummy.” A hand pushed at his shoulder.

He blinked his groggy eyes open. He hadn’t even made a conscious effort to close his eyes. But he’d clearly fallen asleep nonetheless.

Janie stood next to the couch, looking down on him with concern in her eyes. Paint splattered her jeans and black T-shirt. Dots of red and green marred her beautiful face.

“Hey.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to the couch, smiling as she squealed in surprise. With an arm wrapped around her middle, he pulled her body to him, making her lie in front of him so he could spoon her.

“I’m a mess. I’m probably getting paint all over everything.”

“Okay.” He flicked her jeans button before pushing down her zipper.

“Oh my God, what are you doing?” She wiggled away from his fingers.

“Hold still. I’m taking care of the problem.”

“You’re taking off my pants!” she screeched.

“That’s what I said.” He sighed and laid his hand on her hip. “You have undies on, right?”

“My undies don’t cover as much as your undies do.”

“I get erections. That is way more embarrassing than a little butt cheek.”

“Funny, you don’t seem at all embarrassed when you go sporting wood all over the house.”

He paused, because she had him there. He needed to change tactics. “What’s a little butt cheek among friends?” Or…maybe just go back to the beginning. “Besides, I’ve already seen it. And you’re ruining my couch.”

She sighed and removed her hands from protecting her zipper. “Fine. But the paint is dry. Probably. I’m not ruining anything. Again…probably.”

He pulled down her zipper. A wave of red-hot desire rolled over him.

“You should be the one to take them off,” he said through gritted teeth. “I might catch your foot-long pubes.”

“Wow.” She squirmed out of her pants. “You really know how to make a girl feel sexy.”

“I know. It’s a gift. Top, too. Also, why don’t you wear an apron or something?”

She grabbed the hem of her shirt. “I really meant to put one on, but I completely forgot. I’ve been in a serious painting haze this time. It’s nuts.”

After sitting up a little, she pulled her shirt over her head, exposing her taut stomach muscles. A strip of fabric covered her breasts, a sort of bra he’d never seen before. While her breasts weren’t entirely hanging loose, they weren’t far from it. He had no idea what the point of the thing was. He’d rather just strip it off.

She wore another pair of sexy little briefs, only this time, they were bright blue trimmed with black lace. Most of her muscular butt was visible, and as she settled back down, he barely kept himself from pushing forward and sliding his hard-on into the crack.

“What time is it?” he asked, squeezing her top half so her back was tightly against his front. He wisely didn’t pull her in the whole way.

She unwisely pushed back. Then froze.

“Yeah. That’s happening,” he said with a grin.

“Do you walk around with a constant erection, or what?” She turned her head just a little so her cheek nudged his chin. Amazingly, she didn’t scoot her lower half away. His cock started to throb. “It’s five o’clock.”

He’d taken a healthy nap. So why did he still feel so tired?

He knew exactly why he still felt so turned on. It was killing him. Almost literally killing him.

He breathed out in an attempt to keep himself from pushing his hips forward to grind against her firm butt. “Not usually, no. You’re sexy. It’s your fault.”

“Only an asshole blames himself, right?”

He laughed and wondered if she could hear the strain in it. This wasn’t a good idea. “Exactly, yes.”

“Hmm.” She wiggled to get comfortable, snuggling in tightly with him. Her butt rubbed against his throbbing cock. He gritted his teeth. “I woke you up to tell you that Lionel wants you to call him. I think the guys want to check in with you. I told them, in a very vague way, that your mom had an episode.”

Sadness seeped through him. He tightened his arm around her and dipped his head, resting his lips against her cheek.

“How are you doing?” she asked quietly.

“Not good. Betty is torn up about it all. She’s not handling the situation well. And…” His voice hitched and a lump lodged in his throat. Hopelessness washed over him. “None of this will help. She’ll go to rehab—I let her choose the place this time, and she picked one of the ones you recommended—but she refuses to move. Which means in another few months, we’ll be back in the same situation. If I can get there in time.”

She patted the arm he’d slung across her stomach. “Get her an apartment in this complex. I’ll have the stoners next door ask around. They know half the place personally, so they’ll know if one is available. That way she’ll be close, but still on her own.”

“Janie, she won’t move.”

She patted his arm again. “Get the apartment, Obi Wan,” she whispered. “Yoda has your back.”

“I’m no expert, mind you, but I don’t think that makes sense. I mean, I think Obi Wan and Yoda knew each other, but I don’t know—”

“You’re not making it any better, you know that, right? Anyway, I’m hungry. Let’s order food.”

“No. Why are you leaving me?” He tried to hold on to her, but she wrestled out of his grasp.

“Because you’re poking me with that thing and it’s distracting.”

“You backed into me! I was trying to give you room.”

“Please. Even a deep couch like this one doesn’t leave enough room for you, your projectile missile, and anyone else.”

“Yes it does. You just have to teeter on the edge. I don’t see the problem.”

She laughed and reached for her phone. “Do you have a favorite place for pizza?”

Later that night, after they’d consumed their body weight in pizza and beer, they sat on the couch staring at the TV, neither having put on more clothes from earlier—except for the robes they’d donned when they had to answer the door for the pizza guy. She was clearly just as comfortable in her own skin as he was in his—and despite the sexual tension that was driving him mad, he loved how relaxed they were with each other.

“So why do you hate painting in front of people? Why does that make you feel vulnerable?” he asked.

She thought about it for a moment. “Painting is extremely personal. I completely let go. I don’t do that anywhere else.”

“What about sex?”

She frowned. “Not really, no. I always hold something back from sex. I never hold anything back from painting.”

“You just need someone that makes you lose control during sex.” And that would be him.

She leveled him with a look. “Let me guess…”

Oh crap. He’d created his own trap with the bravado ringing through his voice. He should’ve remembered who he was talking to. “Don’t guess.”

“You’re going to use all the knowledge from the many chicks you’ve screwed while being a slut and a hooker—since you were surely a slut before you became a hooker…” She paused for confirmation.

He shrugged, unable to help the grin. “My bad.”

“And you’ll use all that knowledge to rock my world?”

“Well. When you say it like that…yes.”

She huffed out a laugh before looking vaguely down and shaking her head. “You are excellent as using that charm to weasel out of a tight corner. You have too many superpowers.”

As she sat back with a sigh, getting comfortable, he couldn’t help the thought rolling through his head.

You are a disbeliever now, but I will be the first to make you completely lose yourself in another person.