Page 147 of Blush

“I’ll do it,” I say.

She gives Roger a quick scratch behind his ears and then points to his leash on the table. “Suit yourself.”

Yeah, I asked for that. I leash Roger. “Come on, boy. Let’s go do your business.”

I walk Roger for a few blocks, bag up his poop, and hit the nearest trash can. Twenty minutes later, we’re back at Mandy’s place. I let myself in.

Mandy sits on the couch, wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt. She’s already scrubbed her face of her makeup.

My God, she looks beautiful.

“He’s all set. He should be good until morning.” I let out a soft scoff at my own words. Itismorning. Early morning, but still morning.

I unhook Roger’s leash, and he runs to his bowl and takes a sip of water.

“I’m ready to talk now, Amanda.”

“Are you? That’s interesting, because I’m not.”

“Mandy…”

“Jackson, I’m tired. I can’t do this with you right now. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

She’s right. This is better left until we’re both fully rested and fully out of the clouds of that orgasm.

“Okay. I’ll call you. Sometime before noon.”

“Fine.”

I want to go to her. I want to at least give her a kiss on the cheek. Hug her. Pull her close to me and whisper that she’s my best friend and I need her.

But she’s sending off waves of anger. Wistful anger. Exhausted anger.

So I’ll wait.

I’ll wait until tomorrow, and I’ll call her. We’ll meet somewhere. Not here or at my place but on neutral ground. Somewhere quiet where we can speak privately.

“Good night, Mandy.”

“Good night, Jackson.”

I give Roger a quick pet, let him lick my face, and then I leave, making sure her door is locked securely.

I reach my hand up to hail a cab when I realize I’m not ready to go home. I just need to walk, to blow off the steam that’s boiling inside me. I’ll walk to my place.

When a dive bar comes into view, I go in. I want to sit, have a drink of some kind of rotgut, and think about where my life is heading.

“Last call, friend,” the barkeep says to me.

“That’s all I need. Bourbon, please.”

“Brand?”

“The worst rotgut you’ve got.”

“Been that kind of night, huh?” He pours me a shot of something that doesn’t even have a label on it.

“You don’t know the half of it.”