by Layla Frost
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Everyone is nice enough to me because I’m new and my grandma was well-loved, but it’s a tenuous grace period. I’m not meeting any movie or game night buddies, much less anything more.”
“I’m sorry,” Lula said.
“It’s not about sex. Though, as you know, I’m getting a severe case of female blue balls. It’s the connection I miss.” I sighed. “But using a Norman Bates weirdo isn’t what I want. What was I thinking?”
“To be fair, neither of us could’ve predicted the mommy situation.”
A feeling came over me, and the rest of Lula’s words grew distant. Warmth and comfort surrounded me, but guilt sat heavy on my chest.
Only I wasn’t the one feeling it.
It was like when I was reading or watching TV and felt the character’s emotions with them.
Secondhand guilt.
I’m losing hold of my own emotions.
And reality.
“Did you hear me?” Lula asked.
“No, I’m sorry. Long night.”
“It’s okay. We’ll brainstorm and talk about it tomorrow. Go get some rest.”
I nodded, though she couldn’t see me.
“No work tonight. Sleep,” Lula ordered.
“Yes, dear. I’ll be in touch.” Clicking off, I stood and looked around the mostly empty living room of the mostly empty house.
It was much larger than I needed. With the size, location, and condition of it, I could’ve easily sold it. The profit would’ve been enough to cover a few years’ rent on an apartment.
However, the house was my only connection to a woman I’d barely known but loved immensely.
My mind was in a weird place, filled with melancholy and haunted by memories. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I ignored Lula’s order and sat at my desk.
The feeling of comfort never left me.
Chapter Three
Sexual Strawberries
Denny
I WAS GOING TO THROW my phone.
And not a gentle toss, either.
I was ready to hurl it at full speed across the room until it smashed into a million pieces.
The dinging continued every few minutes, disrupting my concentration.
Growling, I snatched it up and saw a long list of notifications. Opening the responsible app, I read through the waiting messages and weeded out the strange ones.
They were almost all strange.
As I was reading an especially riveting one, my cell began to ring. Seeing Lula’s name, I connected the call. “Just the person I need to talk to.”
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Let’s start with why you called because my stuff will require your undivided attention.”
She sighed, long and loud. “I know I said I didn’t want to take up your time, but I’ve changed my mind. After spending most of my precious Sunday looking at a million ugly invitations, I give up. Will you make ours? What I can’t pay in money, I can pay in friendship and booze.”
I grinned wide as I flipped through my notebook. “I’ve already got some ideas.”
“Thank God because, after what I saw today, I was thinking I’d just pick up a couple packs of Spongebob birthday invites and call it a day.”
“That bad?”
“They’re all so… fluffy. I’m not a lace or bow kind of girl. And what’s with the fifty billion sheets of tissue paper?”
“No clue. I’ll make sure to only include twenty-five billion sheets.”
“That’s much more reasonable. Now,” she drawled, “what do you need?”
“When a guy tells you to ask him a sexual question, is ‘how do strawberries reproduce?’ an acceptable one?”
As Lula laughed, I could hear Chase questioning her in the background. She shushed him before wheezing, “Who’s telling you that?”
“I may have installed one of those dating apps all the cool and hip kids are using.”
“Oh, Denny, really?”
“Hey, don’t judge. I’m a cool and hip kid. I may have the social life of a ninety-year-old widow, but I’m still only twenty-two.”
“Haven’t you read the articles about the surge in nursing home STDs? Ninety-year-old widows have bridge, bingo, and bone sessions.”
Shuddering, I grimaced. “I’m disgusted… by how envious I am.”
“I’m not saying you aren’t hip,” Lula said. “But those apps are just used for hook ups.”
“Which I’m okay with.” Saving my work on my computer, I got up and headed into the kitchen to make some coffee. “If I have better luck and something deeper develops, great. Otherwise, if R. Kelly didn’t see anything wrong with a little bump n’ grind, then neither do I.”
“I just don’t get it,” Lula muttered with a sigh.
“Not all of us are lucky enough to find our soulmate by the age of twenty,” I pointed out. “All my meet cutes are tofu uglies in disguise.”
“What?” Her tone confused and giggly, and I was proud I still had the ability to throw my best friend for a loop.
“Tofu is the opposite of meat, instead of meet, like… Never mind, you know what I’m trying to say. I’m not having much luck, and I think the app may be fun once I get past the weirdos.”
“Hold on, hold on, hold on.” There were some muffled noises before Lula was back. “Okay, Chase is making me some tea, and I’m stretched out on the couch. Hit me with them.”
I laughed, pouring my coffee. “With what?”
“The weirdos. I want details.”
“Okay, now you’ll have to hold on.” Grabbing my mug, I curled up in my favorite spot at the bay window and put my phone on speaker. “Can you hear me?”
“Yup.”
“Okay.” Opening the app, I started from the bottom. “BJ69—such a clever name—wants to know if I’m interested in a full-time submissive. He even says, and I quote, ‘I’ll clean, rub your feet, massage your back, and I make a wonderful footrest.’”
“You hate your feet being touched.”
“Yes, because that’s the only problem. I mean, I’ve barely tackled dusting the upstairs, so I’m cool with the cleaning part, but he lost me after that.”
“Okay, BJ69 is out. And our next bachelor?”
“R2inthepinkD2inthestink—who gets points for creativity—wants to know how I feel about growing my leg hair out. I’ll be honest, I’m intrigued. Landscaping the enchanted forest is one of my least favorite activities, so letting it all go would be nice. But then swimsuit season would hit, and with all that hair everywhere, the Bigfoot hunters would mistake me for him. It would just be a hassle.”
“Oh my God, you’re kidding. Someone wants that?”
“Yup. The rest are just the usual assortment of dick pics and requests for nudes.”
“Scary,” she whispered.
“Seriously. When we get off the phone, go hug Chase. Or give him a little somethin’ somethin’. He deserves it.”
“It’ll be a hardship, but okay.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “But I feel you should know, he does often send dick pics and requests for nudes. They’re to me, but he’s not the perfect gentleman.”
“I think that makes him even more perfect for you.”
“Yeah.” I could practically see her swooning. “I think it’s the older man thing. Go for an older guy.”
Chase had been twenty-six when he’d met nineteen-year-old Lula and fell hard. They’d been together for almost four years and engaged for six months. Between his age, his personality, and his love of all things Lula, he’d never played games.
“Hmm,” I murmured. “Maybe. Not quite a silver fox, but skipping past the living-with-his-mama phase.”
“Which for some,” she whispered, “seems to have lasted into their thirties.”
“I take it you never told Chase about Paul’s roommate situation.”
“No way. He might have to work with him at some point. He would never take him seriously with that se
ared in his brain.”
“You’re so thoughtful.” I sipped my coffee and scrolled through more messages. “I think I gave you the highlight reel. I’ll keep you up to date.”
“Please do. Screenshots are acceptable.”
“Noted.” Exiting the app, I asked, “How many mockup invitations do you want?”
“You can do just the one. I trust you.”
“I know, but I like to give choices. Do you want Save the Dates, too?”
“Would I be a pain in the ass if I said yes?”
“Never. You’re a pain in the ass for a whole other host of reasons.” I got up and went to my desk to flip through my extensively color-coded and accessorized planner. “One of the printers I work with does a lot of magnets, mini calendars, notepads, all that... I think something more creative like that for the Save the Date would be fitting. Let me know which you’d prefer, and I’ll design accordingly. Then you could have them printed and shipped within a week or so.”
“Okay,” she said, her excitement clear. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I did.”
I was grateful for the distraction, but I wasn’t about to tell Lula that. She was worried enough.
Sleep, despite my deep love for it, was a cruel and aloof mistress. I spent most nights tossing and turning, my mind refusing to quiet. The funk that’d settled around me when I’d moved in only seemed to grow with each passing day.
Like a tiny hole in a bag of sand, sometimes damage was only truly obvious after time had passed.
“Can you do me a favor?” I asked impulsively.
Lula’s response came just as quickly. “Always. Name it.”
“If you see stuff for the house, will you let me know? I barely have anything of my own, and he…” I blinked back surprise tears, “you know, most of Grandma’s stuff is gone.”
“I’ve been watching my own budget with the wedding, so I’ve banned myself from all antique shops, boutiques, artisan co-ops, and of course, Target. I’ll lift the ban for you.”
“Such a giver.”
“I know, I really am.”
A tiny bit of my funk eased. “If you come across anything, text a pic and have them hold it for me.”
“Deal. Now I’ve got something better to do during my lunch break than pretend my salad tastes just as good as a juicy cheeseburger.”
“Happy to help.” I finished my coffee and sighed. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“And I’ve got to check out Etsy. Keep an eye on your messenger.”
“Between you and the other messages, I’ll have an interesting night. Dick pics and hipster décor. I can’t wait.”
After saying our goodbyes, I clicked off and looked around the room. My couch was against one side, though I rarely used it. A small TV was mounted on the wall across from it, positioned above the completely covered and ignored fireplace. My large desk and work materials were the only other things in the room.
A doorway led into a large kitchen that was more sparsely decorated than the living room. Giada De Laurentiis, I was not.
The dining room was home to multiple moving boxes, storage bins, and whatever other junk I still needed to sort.
The only thing in that room even remotely dining related were the built-in china hutches I’d filled with my dinnerware.
Of course, my stuff was paper plates, plastic wine glasses, and boxes of disposable cutlery, so it was more of a joke than anything.
Clearly, I was also no Martha Stewart.
The library down the hall—with its thick built-in shelves and attached ladder—was like something out of a movie. Since my books only took up a couple shelves, it was a post-apocalyptic movie, but still.
A hollow ache battled with burning rage as I pictured all the empty space in the once heavenly room.
Other than my bed and dresser, the upstairs was much the same. There was even an echo in certain spots.
Taking in the empty walls and minimal furniture surrounding me, it was no surprise a funk had settled deep in my soul. It was past time I made the house my home. I needed to stop living like I was a temporary guest.
“I hope you like glitter,” I said to the empty room. “And bright colors. I don’t care if the dark wood is supposed to be paired with deep reds and sophisticated antiques. I think it needs some light.”
The empty room didn’t respond.
I was a little surprised.
_______________
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
Does being cursed count as an emergency? Can you send hot EMTs and firefighters to help fix me?
“Hello? Are you there?” the voice asked.
“Hi, umm. There is a guy, and he’s…” I inhaled before blurting, “He’s stuck in a sex swing.”
I could hear the blend of amusement and impatience in the woman’s voice when she asked, “Is this some sort of joke?”
“Only in a cosmic kind of way. But there’s literally a man stuck in a sex swing. He’s upside-down.”
“How long has he been in there?”
“I don’t know. Fifteen minutes or so? He said he’d be right back and then he went into the kitchen. I assumed he was grabbing a drink, but when he didn’t come back after ten minutes, I went to check.” I peeked around the corner to check on him. “Oh God, his face is all red. Is he going to pass out? I can’t go in there again. He’s naked.”
“What’s his name?”
“Adam.”
“Yours?”
“Haden Underwood.”
“And your phone number and the address of where you are?”
I rattled off the information.
“Okay, Haden, I’m Alison. I’m going to stay on the line with you until help arrives. Is the man still conscious?”
Peering around the corner again, I tried not to make eye contact as I gave him a scan. “Yes, but his face is really red.”
“Okay.” I heard a keyboard clicking. “Did you try cutting him down?”
“I couldn’t find scissors, but I tried sawing through it with a knife. It was a big one. The knife, not…” I shook my head and took a shuddery breath. “The swing straps are industrial quality or something.”
There was no mistaking the snort of suppressed laughter coming through the phone, but she didn’t speak until it was controlled. “Has this happened before?”
“I don’t know.”
It’d been almost two weeks since I’d signed up for the dating app. After filtering through all the whack jobs, I’d started chatting with Adam. He lived a couple towns over and seemed like a great guy. He’d said his long hours as a restaurant chef made meeting people difficult, so he’d decided to give the app a try. Our first meetup had been a fine, if not underwhelming, afternoon coffee date. Since it’d been the most successful date I’d had in a while, I’d accepted the invitation for a second one.
Apparently to him, a Saturday night movie meant naked on a sex swing.
I should’ve known my curse was unbreakable.
Even though I didn’t want to, I checked on him again.
“Oh God,” I groaned.
“What’s wrong?” sweet, professional Alison asked.
In my absence, Adam must’ve tried to dislodge himself. Still upside down, his legs were spread wide and he was spinning.
The view was… not good.
His junk, his ass, his junk, his ass.
Junk.
Ass.
It was disgustingly mesmerizing, like a naked ballet.
Junk.
Ass.
It’d haunt me for life.
“Ow!” Adam shouted. “I think I dislocated my shoulder.”
“Is someone coming soon?” I whispered into the phone. “He hurt himself, and I really don’t want to go in there and stabilize him. Please, don’t make me.”
“Denny! I know you’re still here,” he called. “Try the knife again.”
“Alison, I swear to God, I’ll be your
bestie if you don’t make me go in there. He’s sweating. A lot. I doubt I could even grip him to help.”
In the distance, I heard sirens that were growing louder.
“It’s okay, we don’t want to risk further injury,” Alison said calmly. “Are those sirens?”
“Thank Thor himself, yes.”
“Please make sure the door is unlocked and a path is cleared. If there are animals, secure them now.”
“Okay.” I unlocked the door just as the first police car approached. “They’re here.”
“I’m going to hang up with you then.” There was another snort as she rushed to end the call. “Good luck, Haden.”
“Yeah, I need it.”
An attractive cop walked up the path as another one headed for the ambulance that was pulling up. “What’s going on?”
Of course he’s all big and badass looking. Just my luck.
“We were supposed to be heading to the movies, but he said he had to get something and then went into the kitchen. I waited ten minutes before going to see what the holdup was. That’s when I found him. Naked. Hanging upside-down in a sex swing. I tried cutting him down, but the material is too strong.”
“In the kitchen?” The cop’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Has this happened before?”
I shrugged. “This is only the second time I’ve hung out with him, and surprisingly, that topic never came up during coffee.”
He nodded as the other officer and some EMTs came in. He gave them a brief recap before they headed for the kitchen. More sirens blared as hot firefighters showed up.
Tilting my head toward the door, I said, “I think it’s best if I go. I have no idea why he thought I’d be interested in… any of this. But now that you all have it under control, I’d rather leave before I see any more.”
The cop didn’t look surprised. “Understandable. Do you happen to know anyone we could contact? Friend or family member?”
I gave a quick head shake. “Literally, one coffee date.”
“Okay, I’ll need your information, just in case.”
After giving him all the info, I didn’t bother to look back as I rushed from the house.
Cursed.
_______________
Bye bye, app. You’ve provided hours of entertainment but not the kind I wanted.
