Iris: Maybe later.
Walker: Iris, you have to stop toying with my ego.
Iris: Do I?
Walker: Yeah.
Iris: Or?
Walker: Or you'll hurt my feelings.
Iris: That's it?
Walker: What's worse?
Iris: You don't seem like the type who bruises easily.
Walker: Hmm.
Iris: I'm doing it again, aren't I?
Walker: If the… what the hell defines a shrink?
Iris: A "Hmmm, interesting, tell me more," a couch, and a box of tissues?
Walker: That's quite the stereotype.
Iris: That's what you're looking for.
Walker: You go to therapy?
Iris: You really don't have game.
Walker: Shit? I'm not supposed to ask babes about therapy either?
Iris: I'm pretty sure that's a hard no.
Walker: Damn. You're blowing my mind.
Iris: Am I?
Walker: No. But you… well, I have enough game to know babes don't like the words "blow job."
Iris: We don't.
Walker: Why is that?
Iris: It isn't sexy.
Walker: You prefer "suck me off"?
I swallow hard.
Walker: If it's not a barked order?
Iris: I'm not sure.
Walker: What if it is?
Uh…
Heat pools between my legs. I don't get it. I don't like being ordered around.
Or maybe…
Maybe I just didn't like it with Ross.
Maybe with Walker, it's different.
We've only been together once, and I already know everything is different with Walker.
Walker: I'll have to try it out.
Yes. He should try it out. We should skip all this talking.
I should invite him over.
But he's already said he has family visiting.
He's unavailable for banging.
And this… talking to him… it's nice.
Iris: You should.
Walker: What else should I do?
Iris: Throw me on the bed and take me from behind.
Walker: Next time.
Now.
Damn. It's like the coffee. I want my fix. Not the release of an orgasm. But everything that comes with sex. The smell of him, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body against mine.
I've never wanted someone like this.
In this visceral way.
Is it sobriety?
Or is it him?
Walker: Are you panting yet?
Iris: Yes.
Walker: I'll have mercy. Change the subject.
Iris: You're kind.
Walker: No. I'm hard. And I'm not gonna fuck myself with my sister in the next room.
Iris: Oh.
I let my eyelids flutter together. I let my head fill with thoughts of him stripping out of his clothes, wrapping his hands around his cock, and—
Buzz.
Walker: Isn't going to therapy part of training?
Iris: In my program, it's strongly encouraged. I see someone every week.
Because it's supposed to help me figure out how to stay clean. How to want to stay clean.
Not because it's required.
But this is the truth.
And it's really none of Walker's business.
We're fuck buddies. Not lovers. He doesn't get the key that unlocks my heart. That's the whole point of casual.
Iris: For someone who doesn't date or do relationships, you ask a lot of personal questions.
Walker: This is why I need you. To teach me the ways of wooing women.
Iris: You have problems with that?
Walker: Well…
I can see him smiling. Hear his laugh. Feel the warmth in my gut.
Walker: No. I don't. But what if I get into an accident that mars my perfect face? Then I'll have to rely on my personality.
Iris: You think it's perfect?
Walker: You don't?
Iris: No comment.
Walker: That's a yes.
It is. He's out of this world hot. And way out of my league too. All those years of not caring what I eat coupled with the post rehab sugar addiction means I'm not exactly in tip-top shape.
I'm getting there.
I'm going to complete all these stupid steps. Including the exercise one. And the eating one. And the sleeping one…
Well, I'll save that for last. Or second to last. Before making amends. There are too many people on that list. I'm not ready for it.
Iris: You'll still have your perfect body.
Walker: Thanks for noticing.
Iris: Can I ask you something?
Walker: I asked you if you're in therapy. Seems fair.
Iris: How much do you work out to look like that?
Walker: Enough.
Iris: Not an answer.
Walker: A lot. My friend and I train together. It's like a dick measuring contest. We're always competing to see who's stronger and bigger.
Iris: Bigger?
Walker: Not that.
Iris: Never?
Walker: No, we've never whipped it out, started stroking, then grabbed the measuring tape.
Iris: Your friend who was at the shop? Dean?
Walker: Yeah. How'd you know? Never mind. It's obvious from three seconds in his presence. He's not the most grown up.
Iris: But a good friend?
Walker: Yeah.
Iris: Who may or may not be more well-endowed.
Walker: Iris, that hurts.
Iris: I don't believe you.
Walker: Okay. It doesn't hurt. I'm not exactly lacking.
Iris: I don't think you're supposed to brag about that.
Walker: You've already tested the equipment. You know how it functions.
Iris: You're different than anyone I know.
Walker: You too.
Iris: Really? How?
Walker: I can't explain it. You know what you want. But then you don't. But you know you want to know.
That's actually really accurate.
Iris: It's the barking comment, isn't it?
Walker: Yeah. Or maybe I just like smart chicks with edgy haircuts and fantastic tits.
I swallow hard.
Walker: I'm still thinking about them in my hands.
Iris: And?
Walker: Uh-uh. You're not gonna tempt me to unzip.
Iris: You sure?
Walker: You're welcome to try.
I kind of want to.
I want to pull off my t-shirt and send him a picture of my bra.
Then to lose the bra and send him that pic.
I…
I can't believe how much I want him thinking of me.
Touching himself to thoughts of me.
I barely know him.
Iris: You're going to turn me into a sex maniac.
Walker: That's the goal.
Iris: Why's your sister crashing?
Walker: Fuck. Boner killer. Maybe I should give you a few tips about game.
Iris: Probably. It's been a while.
Walker: She's between places. She'll stay with my parents after this.
Iris: They still in Beverly Hills?
Walker: In a five-bedroom, three-bathroom with a pool.
Iris: You walked away from a pool?
Walker: My complex has a pool.
Iris: Whew. You have some sense.
Walker: No swimming for two weeks.
Iris: I won't. I promise.
Walker: After the two weeks, I'm going to take you surfing.
Iris: You are?
Walker: Yeah. I want to teach you.
Iris: Why?
Walker: Can't a guy have intentions besides seeing a babe in a clingy wetsuit?
Iris: Can he?
Walker: You ever surf?
Iris: No.
Walker: Then let me teach you.