and reach for a fresh piece of watercolor paper and my favorite ink pen.
I’m too keyed up to sleep, and art is the only thing that has a chance of calming me down.
Of course, it would help if I could stop sketching loose images of a man in sexy, ass-flattering jeans, who looks so much like Jesse it’s clear his body is already burned into my brain.
Jump-start, indeed.
I’m not usually good at drawing from my imagination—I need a reference photo or a model in front of me—but tonight I don’t have a bit of trouble.
I draw Jesse in jeans and then . . . out of jeans, my cheeks heating as I mix the perfect shade of golden tan for his skin and add faint touches of pink to the places I’d like to make his blood rush for me.
By the time I’m done, I’m even more keyed up than I was before, and I’m in possession of the most sexually explicit artwork I’ve ever created. I’m usually a cute-cartoon-pie-and-dancing-fork-drawing kind of girl.
Or, in my free time, a creator of snarky illustrated cards I sell on my Etsy store. Congratulations on your breakup: we hated him and Adulthood is straight up the worst hood I’ve ever lived in are my bestsellers, but Remember to get your titties squeezed this year, ’cause you’re old now! and Tequila: because the chandelier isn’t going to swing from itself are gaining ground.
I’ve been working on a new design—a soup can with a jagged open top with I’ll cut a bitch written in calligraphy underneath—but I’m not in the mood to fuss with it tonight.
Instead, I find myself brainstorming what kind of card I’d send to Jesse. Perhaps, I like you for your personality, but those fuck-me eyes are a nice bonus.
Or maybe, I like you for your personality, but those lips are a nice bonus.
Or possibly something even naughtier, because I’m pretty sure sex with Jesse is going to be the best bonus ever.
Sex. I’m going to have sex again. Finally.
I mean, I think we are.
What did he say, exactly?
We should sleep on it?
Maybe he meant sleep with me.
Why yes, Jesse, you may sleep with me, pleasure me, and bestow life-affirming orgasms upon me to the tune of . . . hmmm . . . how about, say, more than I can count?
Ding, ding, ding!
That ought to be a card.
A thank-you card.
Thanks for the orgasms. How about another?
Besides, isn’t that a thing we should thank people for?
Maybe I can send Jesse that card . . . tomorrow?
Unable to contain my excitement any longer, I grab my cell and text Gigi.
* * *
Ruby: Are you still awake?
* * *
Seconds later, she shoots back a reply.
* * *
Gigi: You know I am. I’ve been waiting for the gossip. How was your date that wasn’t a date?
* * *
I bite my lip and tap out a note.
* * *
Ruby: Datier than expected.
* * *
Gigi: Ha! I knew it! Did you do the dirty deed? Is he there right now, snoring in your bed, too exhausted to move because your sex-starved little self ravaged him so completely?
* * *
I giggle like I’m closer to thirteen than thirty and reply.
* * *
Ruby: No. We decided to sleep on it before we took the next step, but the kissing was very, very nice. The nicest ever.
THAT MAN CAN KISS.
WE ARE TALKING THE FULL-ON SWOON-INDUCING, KNEE-BUCKLING VARIETY.
* * *
A GIF of a worried little girl sliding her gaze nervously toward the camera pops up on my screen.
* * *
Gigi: Uh-oh. But he’s still leaving, right?
* * *
Ruby: He is, but it’s fine. It’s perfect, actually. We’ll enjoy each other until he moves, without any worries about feelings or other complicating factors. It’ll just be satisfying, friendly boning, as the Good Lord intended.
* * *
She sends over a laughing emoji, then a longer reply.
* * *
Gigi: Is that what He intended? Good to know. I’m over relationships. The next time I meet a guy I like, I’m just going to get in, get some friendly boning, and get out. No stress, no mess, no waiting for him to confess he’s also boning half the population of Greenpoint.
* * *
I wince. Poor Gigi. Her last three boyfriends were all cheaters. It was basically the only thing they had in common.
Aside from the fact that they all made my “He’s Probably a Jerk” tail tingle when I met them.
Though, I’m not sure I’m in any place to give relationship advice, considering my last serious