Page 40 of King of Hollywood

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Page 40 of King of Hollywood

We could probably kiss—maybe. But if he asked to go further, I’d have to tell him about the dating rules. And if Felix asked me about the goals, I was going to make a fool of myself.

Why had I not thought of this before?! I spent nearly four hours last night Googling sexualities and the gray-sexual spectrum. And yet, it hadn’t even crossed my mind to look up sex itself. Jesus Christ.

Distracted now, I texted Winnie back.

Me: No.

Winnie: Marshall. Safe sex is good sex.

Me: No sex is good sex.

Me: At least…not tonight.

Me: I hate you.

Me: Why are you making me talk about this?

Winnie: I was promised details.

Me: I am horrified. You are horrifying. Horrifying, Winnifred.

Winnie: Look

Winnie: I don’t want to know the nitty gritty.

Winnie: But I am concerned you don’t know how to properly date.

Me: Of course I do.

Winnie: …

Me: Did you just send me an ellipsis? Who does that?

Me: You know what…never mind. I don’t even care. Don’t bring up condoms again or I’m blocking you. I’m serious. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.

Winnie: Okay but joking aside Marshall

Winnie: Even if you’re not planning on having sex tonight

Winnie: It’s a good idea to bring condoms with you. Stuff happens and the last thing you want to be is unprepared. You’re a planner. So plan ahead.

When I unblocked Winnie, I waited until long after I’d driven home from work. Unfortunately, I spent all the spare time I’d alloted in my tight get-ready-schedule panicking over what to wear while I wore nothing but socks and stood inside my walk-in closet.

Dinner had been chicken breast and rice, as per usual. And my shower had been molten hot. I scrubbed every last inch of my body till I squeaked. Then brushed my teeth three times just to be sure. Then, and only then, did I unblock my sister.

When my doorbell rang, I was annoyed at first, but only until I saw the gift awaiting me.

An apology gift.

Wrapped, practically luminescent, and perfect. The lovely, colorful box sat on my front stoop with a little bow on the top and a note that read: Enjoy.

Now that was more like it.

It felt too light to be anything cake-like. Perhaps it was one of the gourmet chocolate bars I liked? Humming to myself, I took my gift inside, shut the door, and pulled the ribbon free with one hand. With the other, I unblocked Winnie and called her. She picked up immediately.

“I take it you got my gift?”

“Yes.” I tore through the wrapping paper, and then the tape, giddy. I’d always loved receiving gifts. Almost as much as I hated giving them. It was something my three sisters had always liked to use against me.




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