Instead, she seems taken with my apartment, gazing with large eyes at the clean, minimalist space. Luckily, Zenny doesn’t seem to notice my odd jacket pose. You’re thirty-six, not thirteen, I have to remind myself.

I pick up my crumpled suit jacket off the floor and hold it in front of my crotch, a move straight from the Adolescent Boy Playbook. I have to fight myself not to sniff the air like a wolf after she walks past me and props herself against the back of my sofa. Zenny gives me a sunny smile and pushes by, leaving that delicate rose scent in her wake. Like Elijah, Zenny was somewhat exempt from the Bell-Iverson schism, and I can’t actually be sure that she wouldn’t tell my mom about this, so I spin around and yank open the door before I can think about it any longer. “Let me inside, please, or I’ll tell her how rude you were.” “Sean, I know your mother raised you better than this,” Zenny calls through the door, sounding amused. If anything, my body and my dick are thrilled that Zenny is here in the flesh. All of my normal confidence is gone, all of my normal contingency-thinking, all of my charm and problem solving, it’s just fucking gone.Īll that’s left is wanting Zenny and knowing I shouldn’t want her, and oh yeah, this idiot erection I have that is refusing to relent. And I’m not even thinking, I’m just panicking, turning in circles like a dog walking into a room where the furniture’s been rearranged. “Uh, Sean?” I hear her say from the other side, but I’m too busy pacing in circles right now to answer.

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