“What color are your underwear, Lola?” he said.
I smiled, even though he couldn’t obviously see it. “I need some help, Mr. Good Time.”
“I figured that, since you called. Now tell me what you have on.”
“I actually didn’t call for that. I thought maybe you could give me some advice. You know, since obviously you know how to have a good time.”
“I told you, I have no idea who wrote that on the bathroom wall.”
“Well, obviously it was written by a satisfied customer. And that’s what I want to talk you about.”
“You want to talk about how I’ve satisfied other women? That’s kind of kinky. But, hey, I’m game if that’s what you’re into.”
I laughed. “No, that’s not what I want to talk about. But it’s nice to know how flexible you are.”
“So what do you want to talk about then?”
“Calling a guy I met. More specifically, what do I say to a guy I just want a booty call with?”
“You want me to tell you how to invite a guy over to fuck?”
I felt a little tingle between my legs the way he said the word fuck. It had an almost angry edge to it.
“Well, yeah…I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said. “Who is this guy?”
I shrugged. “Just some guy I met.”
“How well do you know him?”
“I don’t know. Not very well, I guess. I met him tonight, but he’s a friend of the guys my friends have hung out with a few times.”
“And you want to fuck him?”
I squeezed my thighs together. “It’s…let’s just say…it’s been a while since my needs were satisfied.”
“Does that mean the last guy didn’t do it for you? Or the last guy was a long time ago?”
I sighed. “Both.”
He was quiet again. “Maybe you should get to know the guy a little better before inviting him over? It’s dangerous to just meet a random stranger for a hookup.”
“Oh? So you’ve never done it then?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I figured the person who wrote your number on the bathroom wall probably wasn’t someone you took home to meet your mother.”
Silas blew out a deep breath. “I told you. I have no idea who wrote that.”
“So then you do have random hookups?”
“On occasion. But with a like-minded person. Usually it’s someone who works a lot of hours like I do, and she isn’t into the dating scene.”
“How do you know I’m not like that?”
“You told me last night that you just got out of a five-year relationship. You’re just feeling a little lonely. Let me ask you something…if you did invite this guy over for a hookup, how would you feel if he got up a few minutes after you were done, pulled on his pants, and said ‘thanks’, then you never heard from him again?”
Oh God. Is that how it works? The guy is going to walk out two minutes after it’s over? Imagining that made me feel kind of icky. “I don’t know. I guess it would feel strange if he walked out the minute it was over. And I’d probably wonder why he didn’t call if the sex was good.”
“Exactly, you’d wonder if you’d done something wrong, replay it over and over in your mind until you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t you, it was him. Then you’d start to think the guy was a dick. Even though he’d come over and done exactly what you’d invited him to do.”
My shoulders slumped. Mr. Good Time was right. I wasn’t sure I was cut out for hookups. I guess, deep down, that had been why I’d been stalling to call Ian. But what was the alternative when you were single and in the mood?
Hmmm.
The alternative might be right here…
I started to debate what I was considering, and then remembered rule number one…
Be spontaneous. If an opportunity for fun arises, take it. Don’t overanalyze it. So…I took a deep breath.
“Pink,” I said.
“Pink?”
“Yeah. You asked the color of my underwear…”
“Oh yeah…that’s true. I did, didn’t I? Well, not sure I’m in the mood anymore. I’d feel kind of hypocritical getting off on you, then hanging up after what we just talked about. Know what I mean?”
“Damn.” I laughed. “Where can a girl get some phone sex around here? You’re no fun, Mr. Good Time,” I teased, secretly disappointed he didn’t want to go for it. “I’m kidding. You’re a good guy. Or at least you seem like it.”
“Wouldn’t go that far. I’m no angel. But I do know how to dish out a good dose of common sense once in a while.”
I twirled my hair. “Do you think I’m crazy for calling a complete stranger for advice?”
“Well, I think you’re crazy for a number of reasons.”
“I thought so.”
“I was kidding. I winked, but since you can’t see me, you can’t tell as easily when I’m joking.” He laughed. “Honestly, I can tell you’re good people. Maybe a little confused, but good people.”
“I’m drawn to your voice,” I blurted. “Is that weird? It’s very sexy yet soothing. I think maybe that’s why I really wanted to call you tonight, just to hear it again.” I bit my lip, immediately regretting my candor, then admitted, “Maybe what I’m looking for more than anything, though, is just a human connection. It’s easier in some ways to connect with a voice without the distraction of everything else.”
“You mean the distraction of…real life?” He chuckled. “Because you do realize there’s no such thing as connecting with a voice, right? Eventually you’d have to meet the person behind it, and nine times out of ten, whatever image you have of him in your imagination is going to be better than the reality. High probability of disappointment.”
His comment made me think of a show I’d recently watched.
“Not true,” I said.
“Really…”
“I just binge-watched this series about blind love. Two of the couples fell in love after only talking to each other behind a partition for several days. They had no clue what the other one looked like. Eventually, they
