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“With Herbert?!” Bethany yelled back. “Hell no! He can drink his own sloppy juice! I’m not touching that. No way. Jeez, Anna. I mean, sure, I’ll sleep with him if it gets him off your back. But I’m not swallowing! I only do that with guys I like!”
“Bethany. Listen to me. First off, throw that straw out,” I said. “I do not want to imagine where that straw could end up going other than the trash. And please promise me you will not buy ginger.”
“Who says I need to buy it? I might have a whole fridge full.”
I cringed and lowered my head.
Bethany let out a laugh and clapped her hands.
I was really starting to feel like I was the one who needed a goddamn therapist to talk to.
I toldBethany I wanted peace and quiet.
My office door was shut.
I looked at my calendar for the day and I had one office visit later in the day.
A good day to catch up on paperwork and admin stuff.
In reality that meant a chance to sit behind my desk, to breathe and think.
And stare at my phone as I debated on texting Steven.
One side of me wanted to communicate to him that masturbation was fine.
Everyone does it.
I do it all the time!
That felt desperate and weird.
I only did it because I needed to do it.
Which brought me the other side of the situation.
The not-so-nice side.
Why the fuck are you jerking off in the shower to some woman’s voice pep talking you to shoot a load all over the expensive, fancy tile on the bathroom wall?! What is so wrong with me? Huh? Do I need to shave more? Do I need to grow a massive jungle bush between my legs? Do I need to have your named shaved down there? Am I too fat? What is it, Steven? Here I thought you were just limp from stress… but, no, strippers get you hard. Some woman on your phone gets you hard. What the fuck? Want me to strip for you? Want me to roll around in glitter? Do you want to stuff money between my boobs while you tell me you hate your girlfriend?
Needless to say, I did not text Steven at all.
Which amazed me because of my job.
Then again, don’t doctors make the worst patients?
I started to smile.
“Look, you can’t just barge in there!”
I looked at my office door and quickly stood up.
“Herbert,” I whispered. “You bastard.”
Now I was ready for a real fight.
I grabbed my phone.
If that asshole opened my office door again, calls were going to be made for real.
