Page 37 of Poetry On Ice

I’ve been having a mild panic about it since I boarded the plane. Almost as soon as I took my seat, I remembered my mom has a key to my house, and so does my sister Beth. If either of them finds those jockstraps, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. They won’t. They’ll both laugh their asses off. And my dad will ask why they’re laughing, and they’ll tell him. They’re like that. No filter. Any of them.

Not that they make a habit of going through my things. They’re not like that.

In fact, when I think about it, I know for sure that neither of them has ever gone into my house without me asking them to. I’m a public figure. I have a shit ton of security, and I have an app that lets me know every time the alarm system is turned on or off. I get a message and a photograph sent to my phone every time someone so much as rings the doorbell. It’s never happened that my mom or Beth have come or gone without me being there. Not once.

It’s not something I need to worry about.

I’m spiraling.

The nerves and excitement about getting fucked have gotten a little too rich for my blood. That’s what’s happened.

I text Decker as soon as Marcus, our team operations coordinator, starts handing out the key cards.

Don’t come up

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he reaches for it immediately and reads the message. It’s clear he can’t make heads or tails of it as he looks at me blankly.

I’m going to prep for fucking, and I don’t want you around

Go to the bar and have a drink

He looks at his screen and blinks hard. His jaw drops slightly, then he overcorrects and does a truly crappy job of trying to look indifferent. His tongue slips out between his lips. Up and to the right. He scrapes his lip with his teeth as he types.

Three dots appear on my screen and then disappear.

They appear again.

And disappear.

They reappear, and this time, thank fuck, he hits send.

k

K?The letterK,not even the word?That’swhat he has to say for himself? If I didn’t have so many other things to think about, I’d give him a big piece of my mind.

K?

What the fuck? That’s it? And lowercase. I don’t even get a capital letter. Jesus.

Okay, so the good news is I’m the proud owner of a squeaky-clean ass. The bad news is I’m spiraling a lot more than I was earlier, and that’s saying something. I’mnow positive nerves and excitement are the exact same emotion.

What I don’t understand is why no one has ever noticed it before.

It’s so obvious. Dry mouth, difficulty swallowing, heart palpitations, jumping at the slightest sound. Nervesandexcitement. I’m telling you, they’re the same thing.

I check myself out in the mirror and towel-dry my hair a little more. The shower I just took was piping hot, so my face looks a bit red and blotchy, but there’s nothing I can do about that. I wrap a towel around my waist and walk out of the bathroom.

My hand shakes as I type a message to Decker.

I’m ready

Once I’ve hit send I realize I might not have been clear enough.

To be fucked.

Come upstairs.

To our room.