Page 85 of That Last Summer

“Do you?” I ask him, remembering that conversation from not so long ago when he told me he didn’t know who I was.

He thinks about it for a moment. “Sometimes.”

We stay silent for a little while until I see Alex close his eyes and nod. He looks tired, but seems reluctant to sleep.

“You can doze if you want to. I’ll watch the fishing rods.”

“No thanks. I don’t want to fall asleep just to wake up and find you’ve bailed out.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You always mean something. At least, you do lately.”

“I may be remembering the day you left me drugged and sick, lying in bed after satisfying your sexual needs.”

“You weren’t drugged.”

“I’d taken something for my knee pain and was worn out by the effort.”

“I don’t understand why, though. I don’t think you were out because of the physical exercise, since I did all the work.”

When I see the expression on his face I fake a cough to hide a laugh.

“Excuse me?”

“I do excuse you,” I say, teasingly.

“I didn’t mean that! And you didn’t do all the work.”

“Hmm...”

“If you’re looking for a repeat to prove you wrong, you’re not getting it. That was our last time. That was the deal.”

“I’m not looking for anything, I’m just confirming a fact.”

“A wrong fact.”

“Was I not on top?”

I instantly regret asking that. The memory of that moment is too strong, too intense. Not what I need right now.

“What has that to do with anything?”

“Well, it means you barely had to move.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Priscila...”

“Yeah, I did that already.”

I regret saying that too, but I can’t stop.

“You are a pain in the ass.”

“But we have a truce now.”

“Now? No. Today. We have a truce for today.” He emphasizes the word.