Page 112 of Envy Mass Market


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“Was she nice to you?”

“Real nice. I was lucky.”

“Yeah, you were. My old lady kicked me out when I was fifteen.”

“How come?”

“She caught her boyfriend waving his weenie at me.”

“Why didn’t she kick him out?”

She laughed as though that were funny, although Roark hadn’t meant it to be. “You’re a nice guy, Roark.” When he grimaced, she added, “I meant it as a compliment.”

“Well, thanks. Must say, though, I’d rather be thought of as dashing and dangerous.”

Her smile faded. Her eyes lost their sparkle and seemed to look inward into something that caused her unhappiness. “No, that’s Todd.”

Roark didn’t how to respond to that and reasoned that it was best to say nothing. He slapped his thighs and moved to get up. “Well, I should be—”

“Wait, Roark. You’ve been so sweet. I mean, really fuckin’ great. I hate women who’re clingy and needy, but I don’t want to be alone tonight. Would you stay? Just until I fall asleep?”

“Okay. Sure.”

“Lie down.”

Awkwardly, Roark stretched out beside her on the bed. She snuggled against him and rested her head on h

is shoulder. He placed an arm around her. “Maybe tomorrow you should call a doctor,” he suggested.

“Yeah. He’ll likely want to do a D and C. Yuk.”

Roark’s thought exactly. He had a vague idea of what was involved in the procedure, and he preferred keeping the idea vague. “You weren’t on the pill?”

“No. They make me fat,” she explained. “And he forgot to bring condoms. At least he told me he forgot them. Guess I was stupid not to insist.”

“Damn straight. Pregnancy’s not the worst that can happen.”

“I know, but he’s the type who’d be careful about disease and stuff.”

“So this guy wasn’t random? I mean, he’s somebody you know well?”

“Roark, don’t ask, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

But they didn’t talk. Not for a while. They didn’t even move, except for his fingers sifting through strands of her hair, which was fanned out over the pillow, drying from her shower.

“My name’s not really Mary Catherine,” she confessed softly.

“No?”

“It’s Sheila.”

“That’s pretty.”

“I just use Mary Catherine for the nun bit.”

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