Hungry for Love (40 page)

“
Oh my God
,”
shrieked Kevin
,
his voice at about the octave range usually reserved for pre-pubescent boys or those deliberately sheared of their genitalia in order to maintain those high notes. 
“
Quick
,
turn around.  Go around the block.
”
  Frantically he reached for the wheel
,
but Angie shrugged
,
asked no questions
,
and just did as he asked.

Angie
’
s dad had driven into his garage and lowered the door.  Should he have gotten red or a jazzier color
?
  Of course not.  He wasn
’
t having a mid-life crisis.  He
’
d just bought a car.  A nice
,
neat little black Honda CR-V.  Like a Jeep but better.  Fantastic ratings and resale value.  A sane person
’
s car.  And you could easily put your dog in the back.  If you had a dog.  Maybe he would get a dog—Angie had said she wanted one.

It took about two minutes for Angie and Kevin to circle the block and all the while Kevin
’
s head spun frantically around
,
looking in vain for the Honda. 
“
We outwitted them
,”
he said jovially
,
“
They
’
re gone
,”
and then instantly terrified
,
“
Do you really think they
’
re gone
?”

“
Who
?”

Kevin attempted to appear sociable and even nonchalant as they entered the guesthouse when what he wanted to do was dim all the lights and stand guard at the window.  It took full concentration for him to speak casually
,
to look around socially and comment on his surroundings
,
“
Nice place.  And you rent this guest house
?
  I might be in the market for something like it soon.
”
  Self control could be maintained only so long
,
as Kevin knew only too well
,
and so he skulked to the window and standing covertly to the side
,
peered out.

“
It
’
s my dad
’
s. He has the main house.
”

“
Well it
’
s got everything you need
,
doesn
’
t it.
”
  There was a kitchen on one wall at the rear
,
a big brass bed on another and a little sitting area with a love seat and a television.  Maybe he could fix up the guest house at his place like this in case Laura insisted he leave for a few days. 

“
I
’
m going to change
,”
whispered Angie.

“
Oh don
’
t change
,”
said Kevin absently
,
“
You
’
re so nice the way you are.
”

“
I meant my clothes.
”

Kevin barely noticed as she walked down a small hallway into a dressing room
,
giving him a chance to focus his full energy on what potentially lurked outside the window.  A car drove down the street and he jumped
,
but he could see it wasn
’
t
the
car.  Just a car.

In a blur Kevin found himself naked
,
in bed
,
being kissed and touched by a girl who had hands
,
hands that could knead bread.  But what
?
  He was thinking about bread
?
  And he couldn
’
t see out the window
,
but he could see lights passing now and then and he jumped each time a car passed.  He knew he had to get a grip.  They surely would not mow through the side walls of this guesthouse and run him down.  Would they
?
  They surely would not be waiting in the bushes to jump him when he walked out the door in the morning
?
  Would they
?
  Without his car around him
,
Kevin felt naked.  And he actually was naked.  With a sandwich girl.  Come to think of it—he hadn
’
t had anything to eat in hours.  She opened a drawer and he wondered if there was a sandwich in there and then he was pretty sure his blood sugar had plummeted to some never before experienced low.  Not a sandwich.  A condom.  And then something else plummeted.  This was a day of firsts.  Everything you never wanted to have happen and less.  Or more.  Or was it less
?

He sat up in the bed
,
the covers pulled up to his chin for the second time in hours
,
and beside him the girl did the same.  If he
’
d been this miserable before
,
he couldn
’
t remember when.  Wait
?
  Was that a car
?
  He shook his head
,
trying to regain his sanity.

“
I should leave
,”
he said.

“
Don
’
t be silly.  You
’
re just stressed.
”
  Angie sighed. 
“
You
are
stressed
,
right
?
  I mean
,
um
,
it
’
s not cause
,
um
,
you remember how I looked before
,
it
’
s not is it
?”

“
Oh
,
baby.
”
  Kevin hugged the sandwich girl and tried to sound rational. 
“
It
’
s hard to be
,
um hard
,
with assassins chasing you.
”

Angie shrugged.  It happened.  Well
,
she knew it happened.  She
’
d heard it happened. 
“
Let
’
s just get some sleep.
”

“
Perfect
,”
said Kevin. 
“
You
’
ve been a real sport tonight.  I really do thank you.  And tomorrow I will thank you properly.  Or improperly.
”
  He thought about offering to order a pizza but somehow that just seemed rude.  He had to maintain some level of decorum
,
didn
’
t he
?
  If you allow a girl to drag you to her apartment instead of checking into a hotel
,
you forfeit the right to call room service
,
don
’
t you
?

Angie smiled sweetly at him.  It happened
,
so wasn
’
t it better just to be understanding
?

Kevin lay there all night
,
intermittently looking out the window and toward the fridge.  By the morning he was doubly frazzled
,
exhausted
,
and starving.  At least that
’
s what he told himself when something that had never happened before happened again.  Had that cop somehow put a curse on him
?
  No
,
he didn
’
t believe that.  He hunkered down into the softness of the bed
,
pulling the covers over his head morosely
,
even when the nice girl tried to snuggle him.  He had a curse on his head
,
so what good did that do.  No
,
a curse on his dick.  The worst curse of all.  A wurst curse
,
he thought sardonically and then that he really needed to eat something.

“
You must still be upset.  It
’
s okay
,
really it is.
”

“
So it
’
s come to this.  Torture and humiliation.  I
’
ve gotta get out of here.
”