his side, his head cushioned under one bent arm. Where the sheet ended, I could see the hair on his chest and then the beginning swell of his beer belly. “I love fate,” he said.
I was fishing under the covers with my hand, careful not to touch his side of the bed. “Have you seen my clothes?”
“I’ve known for about a year that our lives were going to become intertwined. I even told my buddies. Joel thought I was crazy, but I said no—”
“Our lives are not intertwined.” I found my bra under the sheets, but no underwear. The air in the room was biting cold. I could see my jeans on the opposite side of the room. Next to them was the disgusting sight of a used condom. My jeans had fallen on the floor in a running pose, as if trying to make a getaway without me. I was not at all comfortable with the idea of walking across the room naked to get them. No one had seen me naked in a very long time. I could not, in fact, remember the last time anyone had seen me naked. The very few times I’d had sex I’d managed to keep most of my clothes on. I was almost more amazed to find that the vodka and Weber had induced me to take off every stitch of clothing, than I was to find myself in his bed.
“This was a mistake,” I said. My breath made little clouds of white in the air. “I’m sorry if I misled you, but I was in a bad state last night. I wasn’t myself.”
“I foresaw last night, Doc, so it couldn’t have been a mistake.”
“I’m not a doctor. Please don’t call me that.” I sat up, clutching the covers to my chest. The air climbed up my spine with icy fingers. “Why the hell is it so cold in here?”
“I forgot to turn the heat on when we came in. I was distracted by the lovely lady with me. Close your eyes, Doc, and I’ll get your clothes for you. I’m shy, so no peeking.”
The last statement made me smile, but only for a split second, because doing that made the drumming in my head increase to double time. When I closed my eyes, the darkness was at first loose with spots of light, and then it began to revolve with the single-mindedness of a washing machine in the spin cycle. I moaned and fell back on the mattress.
I heard Weber’s bare feet padding across the room toward me. “I turned the heat on, Doc. It should warm up in here in no time.”
I kept my eyes closed and said, “You have to make a deal with me.”
“Can’t help you there. Sorry.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t believe in deals.”
My clothes dropped into my lap, freezing and stiff, completely unwelcoming. I stared over at him. “You don’t believe in deals? What kind of statement is that?”
“I don’t believe in anything binding. I take life as it comes.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “This is simple. If we see each other out in public, we’ll act as if nothing happened. We’ll pretend we don’t know each other. We won’t tell anyone about last night. And that includes all of your stupid firehouse buddies.”
Weber was next to me in the bed again, co-opting my space and using up what little warmth there was to spare. “How about if you keep your side of that deal, and I’ll play it by ear?”
I heard this from beneath the sheet, while I was wriggling into my jeans. When I was dressed, I rolled off the bed. The sudden movement made me nauseous, but at least I was on my feet, looking down at him. This is the room of a teenager, I thought. A New Jersey, Bon Jovi– loving, gold jewelry–wearing teenager who has never grown up.
“Please,” I said. “Please promise me you’ll keep quiet.”
“No can do, Doc.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “You don’t believe in promises.”
“That’s right,” he said, and pointed a big fat grin in my direction.
It was only when I got out of that room and that apartment that the slamming in my head abated, but the swelling in my throat had not gone down. It was difficult to swallow, and my breath caught sometimes on the way in and out. I couldn’t help but think of what diseases might cause this kind of symptom. Making the list calmed me slightly. Pneumonia, strep throat, herpes, allergic reactions, esophageal