“Can come see me play the main stage. Though as I understand it, you decided to go see a K-pop band on one of the other stages instead?”
“Nash.” I am not laughing at his man pain. Much.
“Were they good?”
“They were amazing.”
“I would hope so,” he says. “My set was great, thank you very much. Had one of the biggest crowds of all time.”
“What’s all the giggling and gossiping going on in here,” says Grandma from the bedroom door. “It sounds like summer camp.”
“He’s too tall for the couch,” I say.
Nash sits up. “I couldn’t sleep, it was too uncomfortable.”
“I’ve found you contentedly sleeping curled up on a marble floor,” says Grandma. “Do I need to go and get my stick?”
“That was after a lot of whiskey, when I was much younger, Audrey.”
“I love you, but I know you, and I think this is unwise. There isn’t anything wrong with your lifestyle, my boy,” says Grandma. “Whatever consensual adults do is their own business. But she isn’t used to it.”
I smile. “The bed is huge. He’s fine. Nothing is happening.”
Grandma sighs. She seems to be experiencing big feelings. “You’re a grown adult, June, so I’m not going to tell you what to do. What Iwillsay is that the number of people I escorted from his house the morning after is well over double digits. And I would hate to see you get hurt again, especially so soon.”
My mouth stays shut. I’m not explaining my familiarity with the concept of a hookup to my grandmother at two in the morning. It’s just not happening. Nor am I in need of a rebound. Though I don’t know if I’d turn one down with this particular person.
“Good night,” says Grandma.
“I have the weirdest feeling I just got slut-shamed,” whispers Nash, in his usual laid-back tone.
“Yeah.”
“So that happened.”
“Did you expose my grandma to drug-fueled, rock-n-roll style orgies?”
“It’s country slash rock with folk and the occasional pop accent.”
“Did you though?”
“No.” He pauses. “Maybe. I mean, of course there were some parties at the house. But it wasn’t like people were swinging naked from the chandeliers and doing blow off the marble counters. Oh. Wait. There was that one time.”
“Swinging naked or doing cocaine?”
He lies back down with his hands behind his head. “Swinging naked. Though she was a burlesque performer, so she wasn’t actually naked. She had this cool glittery costume. As for the other, I saw what hard drugs could do early on and steered clear.”
“Sounds sensible.”
“We’re just going to be friends of the platonic type, right? Best buds? Pals?”
“Um,” I say. “Sure.”
“That’s what I thought. We don’t want to complicate shit with us both staying here. Or upset your grandma. Night, June.”
It’s not like I’d even decided I wanted to have sex with him. He’d been flirting with me. Which was probably just his natural charm and bullshit. As delightful as I can be when you catch me in the right mood, people like him don’t date nobodies. In all likelihood, they don’t have casual sex with them, either. And of course, no one wants things to get complicated.
I for one would like to never hear anything nearing another beware-of-sex-with-this-person talk from my grandmother.
