Page 54 of Jensen

“You know what? Let’s go have lunch at the diner today,” he says. “I’m tired of all this socializing.”

He can tell I’m having an off day. Brothers is the first person to give a damn about what I feel. I’m grateful for that. He claps me on the shoulder, and I follow him to his fancy car parked around the side. We don’t talk as his driver takes us through Lexington to a diner in the countryside to the west of the city. It’s a quiet, hole in the wall place Brothers favors.

We go in through the side door. The inside always reminds me of my trailer growing up: wood-sticker walls, peeling linoleum floors. The difference is, the diner is spotlessly clean and smells like pancakes. We sink down in our usual booth, the second from the back, left row.

Our waitress, Ashleigh, appears. She likes Brothers, flirts with him every time, and he eats it up. Or maybe it’s the other way around. She’s about my age, curvy, with bombshell blonde hair and a sweet southern drawl.

“Hey, there,” says Brothers.

“Y’all out causing trouble on a Sunday?” she says, setting our coffee down.

“You know it.” He winks.

She rolls her eyes. “Alright, you want the usual.”

I nod. “Yeah, but can I get bacon, no eggs today?”

“Coming right up, sweetheart,” she says, scribbling on her pad. “And for you, Mr. Boyd?”

He leans in, dimple flashing. “Same as usual, ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes again and leaves. Brothers flirts with everybody, drizzling honey all over every situation he walks into. But I’ve noticed he doesn’t say sir or ma’am to his peers. It’s only people who are less wealthy or powerful.

He’s all yes, ma’am the minute he’s at a diner or a strip club. Thank you, sir, but only to the person pumping his gas. I asked him about it once, and he gave me a thoughtful stare and said it costsnothing to be a gentleman, Jen, but it’ll cost you everything to be a cunt.

“You doing alright, Jen?” he asks, having a sip of coffee.

I start to nod, then our eyes meet. His gaze is soft, real gentle.

I put my coffee down. “I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?”

It feels shitty to say it out loud, but I think I have to. It’s eating me alive.

“I don’t think Holly and I are working out,” I say.

He flicks the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He does that a lot. Then, he sinks back, releasing a sigh.

“She doesn’t seem like a good match for you,” he says finally. “I hate to say it. I know she means something.”

I don’t answer. Brothers has been pretty clear about his feelings toward my relationship with Holly. He’s just short of forbidding it, always telling me I need to find somebody my own age. Settle down. Maybe have some kids someday.

“I can’t just let it go,” I say finally.

He cocks his head. “Why’s that?”

I shrug. “It’s kind of personal stuff. Not Sunday conversation.”

“You can talk about anything, Jen,” he says, and he means it.

Something snaps inside, and it bleeds like it did the night Cherry threw me out.

“Okay,” I say. “She’s way too fucking much for me right now. I never wanted to fuck her in the first place. She was just all over me in her kitchen, and I didn’t know how to say no. And then it just kept going and fucking going. And now, I can’t even get off without some kind of weird shit.”

He blinks, lips parting. “Jesus,” he says.

“I think I have like a fetish or something, and I don’t want it.”