7. Did you have a lobotomy?

DID YOU HAVE A LOBOTOMY?

I don't knowwhat I was thinking, breaking protocol and sticking my hand through the hole to touch her face.

Maybe it was because I wanted every last drop of me pushed between those soft, pouty lips that sucked my cock so perfectly.

Or maybe… maybe I'm more into touch than I thought.

No, it's just new.

It was odd not being able to wrap my fist in her hair, or to speak with her. Not that she needed direction, but it was still a completely new sensation.

She was so eager to make me come.

She paid to suck my cock through a hole, and that just made me want to fuck her throat all over again. I'm not a selfish lover, but taking what I wanted? It turned me on in a way I haven't experienced in a long time.

I'm too old and pay too much money at Avalon to play games. She did good and should be rewarded. I thought that I'd get off on her being faceless and there to please, which I am. But there's also the curious side of me that already wants to know who she is and what she looks like.

Her skin was tight and soft, and her lips were plush and needy, but beyond that all I know about Honey is that she sucks cock beautifully—I wonder if her pussy will take me just as well.

As soon as I'm in my parked car, I login to the website and send a formal request to Honey, scheduling a time in the heart room.

I drive home, feeling more relaxed than I have in weeks. There's no pressure beyond the Key Club. I don't have to worry about her wanting more or dodging her at the club. What's between us stays in that dimly lit small room, and nothing more.

I grab a sandwich on my way home and park my car, and head toward the lobby. A black SUV drops Penny off and I squint at her as she shuts the passenger door.

The car is blasting music as she approaches the lobby door.

"I thought you said no more dates?" I say, wondering if she really couldn't hold off on men for more than a few days.

"He was my driver, you fucking idiot," she says, storming past me and grabbing the door handle.

"And where were you dressed like that?"

She's wearing a sleek black dress that hits all the right spots. I shake my head, feeling like an absolute creep for noticing how attractive my cousin is. It's not that I haven't noticed before, I just actively will myself to forget that she's an attractive woman.

"Obviously sucking strangers' dicks for money," she says with an eye roll.

"Did you get some friends I don't know about?"

"I have friends."

"Sharon in accounting doesn't count," I snap back.

"You're one to talk. Your brothers are your only friends."

"That's not true. Marie is my friend."

"No, Marie is your assistant that you pay to deal with you."

We both glare at each other as she shoves her finger aggressively at the elevator button. Thankfully, it comes swiftly and the metal doors open wide, letting us both enter.

"And where were you?" she asks, looking me up and down.

"Client dinner."

"Did you all jerk each other off while talking about laminate floors and overhead lighting?" she asks.

"We did. Greg really needs to work on his form. His wrist is a little limp."

That makes her laugh, even if it adds an eye roll.

"Was the food so bad you had to pick up a sandwich after?" she asks.

"Yeah, the poor hand job really put me off my meal. Good night, Pen," I tell her as the elevator opens on my floor and I head back to my empty, blessedly quiet apartment.

How the helldoes an adult man get new friends?

Penny's words lingered with me well into the night, ruining my high from the evening I had with Honey.

Honey is easy, she doesn't talk, gives great head, and expects nothing after.

Friends, girlfriends, family, all they do is want me to be someone I'm not.

I'm never going to be the guy mowing the lawn on weekends in my busted scratched up Reeboks, inviting my nosey, self-absorbed neighbors to block parties.

I'm curt, sarcastic, and impatient.

The only people who want to be around me are people who's paychecks I sign and the people who are biologically required to love me.

It's fine… that's fine.

But it's not.

"Fuck," I groan as I sit at my desk, staring out the large windows into sunny Florida.

I hate this state. It's too bright, hotter than fuck, and everyone seems happy. Why? What in the world do they have to be happy about?

You live life and you fucking die.

God, I sound like a miserable eighty-something year old man who hates the world. Is this all I have left in life?

There's a notification on my phone. Honey accepted my invitation and we're scheduled to meet three days from now.

It makes my lips twitch.

Marie walks through my office and gapes at me. "Oh my God, are you smiling? Do you need to go to the hospital?" she jokes.

I just hold out my hand and she hands me the paperwork I need to sign for the Mansfield property.

"Krystal will be here this afternoon to discuss Vegas. Do you need anything else?"

"No. Thank you, Marie."

She blinks at me and I almost want to swallow the thank you back down my throat.

"Whatever this is, keep doing it," she says, waving her hand at me.

I'm such a rotten bastard that my assistant thinks I'm an alien for being a decent person. I rub the palms of my hands against my eyes.

Why do I feel this way? Why now?

I was fine. For years I was fine, just floating through life after everything that happened with Vanessa. But now? Is the way I'm living life good enough? Will I look back years from now and regret not being surrounded by more people who care about me, that I didn't start a family?

Is that what I want?

I'll never be a team dad, or the husband who's thoughtful and considerate all the time. But I could be, couldn't I? If I really wanted to do those things, I could try to do better. It's not like I have a steady partner to even consider this with. I'm thinking about someone I'm going to fuck anonymously for fuck's sake.

I pick up my phone and text Aiden.

What does a midlife crisis feel like?

Aiden

I'm not even fucking forty. How would I know?

I thought your retirement from the MLB was your midlife crisis?

Aiden

Maybe you should see a therapist.

I roll my eyes and place my phone screen side down on the desk. What is it I truly want?

I shake away my existential crisis and focus on work, and my upcoming night with Honey.

That has to be enough, because I'm not sure I'm capable of anything beyond that. I don't touch my phone, just plug away at work until there's a knock at my door.

"Come in," I say, without even looking up.

The person in question comes and sits in front of me, making me abandon the current report that I was looking at.

"Krystal," I say, noting the event planner"s presence.

She handles everything from our building grand openings, client get togethers, to employee functions. She also helps with staging when needed.

Krystal doesn't take any bullshit, and for the most part I let her do her own thing.

"Right, the tradeshow and awards in Vegas."

"I'll have everything planned, but I won't be able to attend this year," she says, leafing through her files.

Her nails are unpainted, and her outfit is simple business casual, as well as her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head. She hands me a file, peering at me with her deep brown eyes.

"Why not?"

"My wife is having a baby," she says, sitting back and placing her arms on the arm rests.

I'm not stupid enough to ask how exactly they made it happen and it's none of my business.

"Congratulations," I say.

Krystal rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

"She's due in October so I'm not risking missing anything by not being there."

"Okay."

"Seriously, I can't—wait. What?"

"Being here is more important. As long as you handle the major planning, I don't see why you would have any issues."

"Did you have a lobotomy?"

"Just tell me what I need to know," I grate out and she smiles, a deep set dimple forming against her light brown complexion.

"Let's start with accommodations."

I spentabout an hour with Krystal finalizing the details and budget for Vegas. I considered going to Aiden's place and forcing him to hang out with me, but I decided to go home.

It's quiet in my apartment, something I treasured just the other day.

But as I sit on my couch in complete silence I wonder if there's more to life than just surviving, and if there's anything that might save me.