Page 59 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

“I’m not pissed off. I’m just being realistic. Believe me, if I was mad you’d know it.”

“Do you wanna go home, Ivy? Is this how you cut your losses, enjoy the fact that you got me to rid you of that pesky v-card, and go home to tell all your friends who did it?”

“Now that,” Ivy says as she covers her breasts with her arms, “was a low blow. And it’s my cue to cut my losses, yes.”

She tries to step past me but I grab her wrist and squeeze. “Hold on,” I say.

“Let. Go.”

I let go, but I place an arm in front of her and block her exit. “You want me to draw you? You want to know what happened that night?’

“Yes.” She tips her head up. “But don’t bother lying to me. I only want the truth, no matter what it is.”

“No matter what?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize I never stood trial, right?”

“Yeah, but I need to know—”

“No,” I cut her off. “I mean I never stood trial, Ivy. There’s no double jeopardy for us. We never went to trial, we were never found innocent. So if you ever leak this shit I could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Who would I tell? And you said you didn’t do it, so what do you have to hide?”

“I didn’t do it. Not what they accused me of anyway.”

“What?” Ivy’s eyes go wide, wide, wide.

“But I did something else. Would you like to see it?”

She freezes. Her whole body goes stiff. “What do you mean, see it?”

“I’ll draw it for you, Ivy. You wanted me to draw you?”

I turn into the water and douse myself, then start washing my body and hair. Ivy stands perfectly still—watching, waiting—until I’m done. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“I don’t understand,” she says.

“I’ll draw you and show you why I need to keep secrets.”

“Because you draw them nude.”

“No,” I say. “That’s not what I told you, remember?”

“You choke them. You draw yourself choking them.”

I smile and walk forward until I’m close enough to take both of her hands and lean into her ear. “That’s the PG version, Ivy Rockwell.” And then I lean back and look at her. All naked and afraid. Shivering from the cold she hasn’t even noticed yet. “So be very sure you want my secrets. Because secrets are dangerous things, and once you know them, you can’t unknow them.”

I turn to the door and walk out, dragging her with me by the hand. I point to the front of the bed. “Lie down on your back. Right in the middle. And put your hands above your head.”

Ivy looks at the bed, then me, then back at the bed.

“Do it,” I say. “Or we’re done. You asked for it, Ivy. Now you’re gonna get it. And since I came this far, I’m going all the way with you. So get on the bed or get the fuck out.”

I fully expect her to walk out because I sound like a class-A dick right now.

But she doesn’t. She walks to the bed, still wet, lowers her hands forward onto the white down comforter, crawls to the center, and lies back. Hands above her head.