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“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about a thing with me.”

I feel like a bucket of ice has been dumped over my head, and I’m no longer in a sex shop in L.A. I’m one year in the past, at a bar in San Francisco, dancing with a guy on our third date—Bryan. He’s a flirt, and a terrible dancer, but I already like him. Earlier I’d seen him chatting up a waitress, smiling brilliantly. I knew that smile. It was the same one he used on me. “You’re not going to ditch me for some waitress tonight, right?” I asked him.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, kissing me. “You don’t have to worry about a thing with me. I’m all yours.”

And he was. Until he wasn’t.

I put a hand on Philip’s chest, suddenly exhausted and heartbroken. “This is stupid,” I say. “I know you. I know your type, and I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

Pushing past him, I practically run out of the store. I hustle down the street to my car before he gets any heroic notions about coming after me. This sucks. All I wanted was a night of fun. One thing that wouldn’t remind me of Bryan and his betrayal and his words. Go figure the guy I chose would be just like him. Maybe I just have a type. Maybe I’m just destined to be the girl who falls for the terrible guy.

Either way, this is for the best. I can’t go through what I went through with Bryan again, so it’s better that I know about Philip now, before everything goes to shit. Instead of a one-night stand I’ll just go back to the coping mechanism I’ve been using for the past three weeks: ice cream and bad TV. Given how bad at sex I am, Philip probably dodged a bullet by not being able to sleep with me.

He should consider himself lucky.

5

Philip

What the fuck just happened?

I watch through the glass door of the shop as Mayra gets in her car and drives away, my hard-on painful against my jeans. I didn’t see that coming. One second she was practically begging me to fuck her, and the next she’s telling me she can’t. It’s like a switch flipped. Did I do something?

I go over everything I said, and I can’t find anything in my words that I think might be offensive. Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe she wasn’t actually ready. I adjust myself in my jeans. Well, my cock isn’t going to get the workout it thought it was tonight. Good thing I had so much practice jerking off in class, because it looks like that’s all I’ll be doing. After checking in with the guy closing the store, I head to my car. I can already tell that Mayra is going to be on my mind for a while. It’s been a bit of time since I tried to pick someone up, but damn, I didn’t think I’d gotten that bad.

I head to a diner nearby. I know Christa goes here a lot, and I’m starving. Plus, I think that the patient could probably use some food. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive and I want to ask her if Mayra has ever been to a class before. Maybe get a clue as to why she ran, get a clue as to if she’ll come back. I order a burger for myself, and the biggest chicken noodle soup they have for Christa. I also get some of the toast I know she likes.

I thought it might be too awkward or too personal to tell everyone in class, but Christa is my best friend’s girl. Sean has been my best friend for years. He owns the gym with Morgan and me, and he and I served together. He’s off leading a two-week hiking trip in Colorado, a mixture of amateurs and rich people who are more interested in taking pictures than climbing actual rocks. He and I have an unspoken understanding—I’ll make sure Christa’s okay while he’s gone. If I had someone in my life, I know he’d do the same.

So even though I know she’ll probably be annoyed with me for fussing, I dial Christa’s number while I’m standing outside.

“Hello?” Her voice is stuffed.

“I’m outside with food. Do you want to let me in or should I use the key?”

She groans. “Use the key mother hen.”

I laugh as I find the hidden key behind a brick near the door. Christa is flopped on the couch, some terrible Lifetime movie playing. “I thought I’d call first so you didn’t think someone was breaking in.”

Sniffle. “I doubt I would have thought someone was breaking in if I heard the key in the lock.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” I say.

“How was the class?”

I put the soup down in front of her. “As good as can be expected given I know nothing about how to give a blowjob.”

“You have a penis. And you’ve had what I’m sure is an astonishing number of blowjobs in your life.” She laughs, and it sounds painful. “I’m sure it was fine.”

“I did want to ask you though, has a woman named Mayra ever come to one of your classes before?”

Christa’s face wrinkles, and she sneezes into a tissue before answering. “Doesn’t ring a bell, why?” I give her a sheepish grin and she rolls her eyes. “You were going to fuck one of my students, weren’t you?”

“Before you say anything, she’s not like that.”

“Not like the parade of women that regularly throw themselves at your feet? Philip, the whole class probably wanted you.”

I laugh. “You’re not wrong. But she didn’t, at least not at first. She barely looked at me, and she seemed so nervous she was going to throw up. I tried to talk to her after class—”

“And by talk to her you mean overwhelm her with your manliness.”

“I thought she was into it. But then she pushed me away. Said she knew my type, and ran out of the store.”

Christa pushes herself up into a sitting position, reaching for the container of soup. “So you want to know if I’ve seen her before so you can track her down? Even if I did know her, I wouldn’t help you do that.”

I unwrap my burger and bite into it. “Not track her down. But I would like to make sure she’s okay. She seemed really rattled all of a sudden. And maybe I can ask what got under her skin.”

“Mmm.” Christa takes a sip of the soup. “I was going to scold you for going out of your way to bring this over, but damn this is good.”

“Does Sean know you’re sick?”

She dunks a piece of toast in the soup and takes a bite. Doesn’t seem like it would be that good to me, but whatever. “He knows.”

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