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“We have a problem,” she said. She sat on the sectional and patted a place beside her.
“We do.” That came out sounding like his father. He stayed standing where he was.
“We have this sex thing we both want. But it’s layered in guilt and obligation and the roommate business and the fact I’m leaving. I don’t want to be something you regret.”
“I won’t—”
“You might. You’re standing all the way over there. I keep seducing you or giving you a reason to feel like you need to comfort me and you argued with your dad about me. You’re not a casual hookup guy, Tom.”
He frowned. They had a sex thing and his father didn’t have anything to do with it. It wasn’t a guilt thing, it was a focus thing.
“So I have a plan.”
“That’s the scariest phrase to ever come out of your mouth.”
She patted the sectional again. “That reaction is exactly why we need a plan.”
He crossed his arms. Whatever she had up her sleeve, he could now see was partly hidden behind her back.
“Oh, stop being such a ’fraidy Tom Cat.” She brought her hand out in front. In it was the source of the glitter. “I have a birthday present for you.”
It looked like a party trick. Like something he’d hate. “It’s not my birthday for a month.”
“Thirty days. I leave the day after your birthday.”
He relented and went to sit by her. There was glitter all over her arms and some in her brow and over her nose. She held a palmful of handmade cardboard tags seasoned liberally with blue specks, covered in stars, and tied together at the corner with curling ribbon.
“I didn’t know what to get you for your birthday and I want us to be friends, and lovers too if you want, but we’ve had trouble negotiating those definitions, so I made us a roadmap.”
The thing in her hand did not have maplike qualities and now there was glitter on the rug and the sectional.
“There are thirty coupons there. One for every day we have left as roommates. Every coupon entitles you to one activity we do together. You get to choose the coupon of the day in any order you like. Whatever you choose, I agree to do, with the only caveat being that some activities need more time than others so would be better for weekends, and some might need thinking ahead.”
She’d thrust a coupon at him when she’d been trying to get Jack Haley to herself. “You made me a book of coupons.”
“Thirty birthday activities I thought you’d like, one for every day we’re still roommates.”
He took the coupon book from her hand. The cover said, These coupons are a birthday gift entitling Tom O’Connell to indulge in one guilt-and obligation-free activity with Flick Dalgetty for thirty days. At the bottom in smaller print she’d written the terms. Flick Dalgetty’s participation guaranteed. One coupon per day. Can be used in any order. No refunds. No rain checks. No cash exchange. Nontransferable. Unused coupons are void. All hookups are fully consensual. Offer expires at the end of Flick’s tenancy.
She jumped up, agitated, her hands going to her head. “You hate it.”
“I’m frequently speechless with you. This is a whole other level of gobsmacked.”
Her hands went to her hips. “I guess I have just made myself your servant for a month.”
“Servant!” He almost dropped the coupon book, only the thought of more glitter on the rug made him catch it.
“God, Tom, it’s meant to be fun.” She sat on the table and glared at him. “You remember fun. I thought it would be good for both of us.”
He opened the booklet and was greeted by the first coupon. It said, Bowling. Bowling! The second one said Binge-Watch Show of Your Choice. After that there was Make You a New Playlist, which made him smile, then Movie of Your Choice and Hike and Massage.
It was deceptively innocent. He kept paging and got a series of meal-based coupons where Flick volunteered to cook—she could cook?—or pay for food eaten out, and then it veered from sweet to flaming. Starting with Bubble Bath and careering through Dress Me for Bed, Afternoon Delight, Sixty-Nine, Head, Tie Me Up for Sex, to Kama Sutra Position of Your Choice. His face was itchy-hot before he got to the last coupon. It said, Tear My Clothes Off Before You Fuck Me.
“Too much?” she said.
Too something. “You want to do all of these things with me?”
“There’s nothing in there I don’t want to do. And that’s in the fine print.”
