Page 26 of Badd Ass

Him:He was killed a few days after my dad passed.

Me:God Zane I’m so sorry.

There was a long pause, then.

Him:Yeah, me too. Lost my dad and my best friend within days of each other. It sucked. Still sucks.

Him:We all knew the risks when we signed up. It just especially sucks because he had a wife and a brand new baby boy. Reasons to live, I guess. The rest of us were just single jackasses and horny douchebags, but Campy was the real deal, man. Honorable, truly courageous, and the best damn friend anyone could ask for. He was the real badass, not me.

Him:Some days I think it should have been me, not him. Then his kid would have a dad. Nobody should have to grow up without their dad.

Me:I don’t know how to express this without sounding…cold or selfish or whatever, but I’m glad it wasn’t you. I’m sorry about your friend and for his wife and kid, but I just can’t be glad it wasn’t you. Does that make me a horrible person?

Him:Shit I’m such an asshole. Ruining the whole thing we just had with my dark bullshit. I’m sorry for making it heavy. I don’t know what came over me. I never talk about this shit, even with my bro’s.

Me:You don’t need to apologize, Zane. We’re trying out this practice relationship with each other, right? Well, you’re practicing opening up. You can talk to me...friends talk.

Him:Friends. I like that.

Him:I thought you had to sleep?

Me:I do. But I don’t mind this. Although, if I stop answering, it’s because I fell asleep.

Him:Sleep. Have fun with Claire tomorrow.

Me:Okay. Call me at like 4?

Him:I will. Talk to you at 4, then. Good night Mara.

Me:Night Zane.

I put my phone to sleep and plugged it in, and then switched off the lamp. As I drifted to sleep, I found myself thinking about Zane. Surprising, I know. But for the first time since I’d met him, I wasn’t thinking about his body or even his eyes or smile. I was thinking abouthim. The man. The bits of himself he’d shown me, his deep respect for his friend, the hint of the pain he obviously still felt but kept buried deep down. He’d shown me that, and it seemed to have surprised him as much as it did me.

I also couldn’t help but notice that I hadn’t reciprocated the sharing. Kind of felt like a bitch for it, since he’d shared something that was clearly deeply personal. But…how did I share about Dad? I just didn’t even know where to start.

I fell asleep thinking about Zane, and how this “practice relationship” had suddenly started feeling a lot more like real.

Chapter 6

Zane

Iwokeup with a raging hard-on leaking pre-come. I’d been dreaming of Mara and the way she’d looked in the moonlight up on the Rainbird. Huge, firm, perfectly-shaped tits pressed against my thighs as her mouth slid up and down my cock…fuck, fuck, fuck. And then, later? That fucking video? Jesus.

I couldn’t help myself. I cued up the video and started it, watching her slide that pink vibrator into her pussy, listening to the way she moaned and watching how her breasts bounced as she started to come, her hips pumping.

I shot jizz all over myself yet again, groaning her name through gritted teeth. Which then meant a shower, because I’d only cleaned myself up with some toilet paper last night, so I was a little…crusty.

Once I was clean, I contemplated calling her early, but held off, so she could get in some quality time with her friend. I wasn’t due downstairs for work until ten thirty, and it was just past five in the morning—sleeping in for me, since I usually woke up at four with or without an alarm. I was feeling cast adrift, more unsure of myself than I’d ever been in my life. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

For reasons I was unsure of, I found myself with my cell phone in hand, staring at a particular contact entry, one I’d not called in a long time. Too long. Way, way too long.

I touched the “call” symbol on the screen, letting out a breath. Held the phone to my ear. Waited as it rang several times. I was about to hang up when the ringing stopped and I heard the muffled sound of a phone being fumbled.

“’Lo? Zane? What—um…is everything okay?” Annalisa Campo, Marco’s wife. She sounded sleepy, groggy.

“Hi, Anna. It’s…it’s Zane.”

“Yeah, I know. Are you okay?” A pause. “Not to be rude, but why are you calling at eight o’clock in the morning?”