Page 60 of ClickBack

“I wanted you, too.”

“I gathered that from the speed of your arrival.”

He kisses me. I am still holding his shirt when he draws back, reluctant to give up a conversation that has become this easy.

I sit on the bed and reach into the nightstand for the box of condoms Di sent after the divorce. Then I turn it over in my hands.

“I should check the expiration date.”

Jarrett looks at the box. “I brought some. We don’t have to make tonight historic.”

“They’re not that old.” I find the date and hold it where he can see. “Still good.”

“Glad we caught them in time.”

I laugh and set the box beside the lamp. “They were part of a gift.”

He stops beside the dresser. “Somebody knew you well.”

“Di. After the divorce. She called it a liberation gift.”

“Great friend.”

“There was wine, too. Bath salts. Handwritten instructions.”

“For the condoms?”

“For me.” I take out the card and the little bag of bath salts beneath it, showing him before I put them back. The condoms stay beside the lamp.

Jarrett turns a small framed photograph facedown.

“You already put my grandson in the hall.”

“This one was looking at me, too.”

“Leave my family alone.”

He grins and picks up a jar of body butter instead. He opens it, smells it, then looks over at me.

“This what you had on the other night?”

“Same scent. That was the spray.”

He finds the matching bottle among the others. Beside it is a crystal powder jar I bought for myself, with a puff so big the lid barely settles over it. He lifts the lid by its little glass knob.

“What do you do with this?”

“Dusting powder.”

“With that?”

“What were you expecting me to use? A paint roller?”

He grins and replaces the lid. I sit against the pillows while he studies the body butter again.

“You don’t like it?”

“I love it.”