Page 3 of Play Dirty

I am sad. I’m just not a hundred percent sure why.

Maybe for all the things I lost. For all the ways I’ve tried to make up to the people who matter. For all the things I’ll never have—things that have nothing to do with the size of a TV or the number of bathrooms in a house I don’t even really live in, or a wet bar in the oversized home office.

I feel sorry for that family who lost this house. I really do. Because at least they treated it like a home. At least it was loved.

I don’t love it.

I kick off my shoes as I enter the office and pour myself four fingers of bourbon. I sit on the couch, facing the window that faces the front yard—visible because of the fancy landscape lighting—and think about the game that just ended.

Sometimes people ask me why I do this. Why I make up these games. Why I fuck with so many lives. And I say, Why not?

I take a sip of my drink, still staring out the window, and ask myself that question now.

I don’t reply.

Days pass and there’s no more communication with Augustine. But Alexander shows up at my office—dutifully—every day at lunch to give it another try.

I drop the blinds on the windows that face the hallway and I kiss him. We try to get used to it, to each other, but…

“I don’t think this is gonna work.”

That’s what he says now.

“Me either,” I say, placing my hand on his cheek and slipping my tongue into his mouth.

He’s getting better at kissing at least. For her pleasure, not mine.

He gets me hard every day. Every time we do this, he gets me hard. Because even though I’m not gay, I do enjoy men. Not typically alone, without a woman, but the reach for me isn’t as far as it is for him.

“We should tell her,” he says, still kissing me back.

“So tell her,” I say, placing my hand on his. He squeezes my cock a little harder. His breath quickens. I have a moment of hope that maybe… just maybe he’s coming around to the idea.

But he’s not. Because he backs away, shaking his head. “I can’t. Not like this.”

“Not like… what?”

“Just… fuck, I don’t know what we’re even doing.”

“Well…” I laugh. But then I decide. I’m tired of it too. So I shrug. I knew it would never work. And say, “Fine.”

“That’s it? Just fine?”

“What should I say? I can’t fucking make you enjoy me. She can’t make you either. This whole fucking deal is stupid.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“You know why. I want that building, Alexander. All you gotta do is let me buy it from you and I’ll go away. I swear on my fucking father’s life, I’ll disappear. I’ll never talk to her again. Hell, I don’t want this any more than you do.”

“But you’d take her,” he says. Not a question.

“Sure.” I shrug. “I still love her. But she’s married to you, so… that’s the end of that.”

“She’s going to divorce me,” he says. “There’s no way we make it past this… bullshit. So this…” He pans his hands wide. “This arrangement is the only way I keep her.”

“Dude, what do you want me to say? I’m not gonna steal her from you. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“But you’ll take her after I’m gone, won’t you?”