23. December 21 - Wilder

"You let her kiss you?" Gus asks, taking a swig of beer. "Did your fake girlfriend find out?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "But I was worried Savannah would come out the door. And I didn't just let 2017 kiss me. I froze up for a bit and then pushed her away."

Gus laughs and doubles over against the bar, and I blow out the cigarette smoke I've been holding in my lungs. It's like I've forgotten how to breathe the last couple of weeks. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have to concentrate on things that were always second nature. Things like driving, shaving, swallowing, and even breathing regularly when I think about her too long.

"Do you like this girl?" Gus asks, wiping spittle off his mouth where it landed when he almost spit out his beer at my dilemma.

"Who? If you mean 2017, no. I haven't thought about her in years except to remember her year number as my first cuffing contract."

"What about 2023?"

I shrug and take another drag of my cigarette, focusing on a short inhale before exhaling normally. I watch the smoke swirl between us, and Gus waves it off. He likes a cigar now and then, but he barely tolerates my smoking.

My mind whirls, and it's like my brain won't work. I understood each word's meaning as he asked the question. I simply can't cobble an answer together in my head, and I can't place 2023 and Savannah as the same person. Am I starting to think of her as more than a year?

He sighs like he knows me too well. "Wilder, do you like Savannah?"

"Define ‘like.'"

"Have you lost your ever-loving mind over this girl?"

Have I? I certainly feel crazy at times. I haven't thought about biting her tits or coming on her face like I'm a nasty high school boy with a female respect problem in a few weeks. In fact, I spend a lot of my mental down time thinking of ways to make her happy outside of the bedroom. I usually come up with things like doing her dishes or watering the plants for her instead of thinking of dirty underwear to buy for her like I have in cuffs past.

"Are you asking if I think she's a good person?"

"Not what I'm asking, genius," Gus says, nodding at the bartender to bring another round of beer for us. "I'm asking if you're thinking of breaking a contract for the first time ever."

"Never," I grumble. "Even if I wanted to, she's set on getting out of this after we're done."

"Are you absolutely sure about that?"

I nod and stub out my cigarette a little harder than necessary. "She's made it clear where I rank in her life. It isn't the top. I've explained this."

He stares at me with a wry smile, taking a sip of his drink and never blinking. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You're just different lately."

"Different how? I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

He laughs and looks behind me, probably looking for a woman to take home and fuck. I don't even turn around and join him. There's nobody here that I would want more than what I have waiting for me at the apartment.

"There's a hot woman with huge tits standing right behind you and staring at your shoulders like she wants to wrap her legs around them while you plow her."

"Fuck off."

"I'm totally serious. Oh, she's licking her finger and swirling it around her nipple. Are you going to turn around and look?"

"No," I deadpan.

"I really think you should turn around and look."

"I'm not turning around just so you can laugh at me. There's no hot woman there."

"Or do you just not care any longer because you're totally falling for a girl you have at home?" Gus asks, taking a drink and winking to the imaginary girl behind me.

I look at the wall behind him for a few moments, studying the beer signs and autographed pictures of minor celebrities that have visited the bar. "I'm not falling for her. She's nice, and she's my partner for another six weeks or so. I should be respectful."

"Like you've been so respectful before. The others didn't get such chivalry." He chews on a bar pretzel from the bowl between us and turns his attention back to me. "What'd you get her for Christmas?"

"Nothing yet. I'll probably get her what I get all of them."

"You're getting Savannah a gift certificate for a massage?"

"What's wrong with that? Most of the women suck me off for it on Christmas morning. It's a pleasant Christmas experience for everyone involved. Besides, she's in school and has that new job. She'll appreciate a stress-free massage."

He scoffs and looks away. "I'd thought you'd get her something more personal. She seems different than the other women."

Don't I know it.

I take another cigarette out of the pack and light it, blowing the first smoke out of my nostrils and watching the smoke curl. "You think she needs something more personal?" I ask.

He holds up his hands like he's being robbed. "Hey, not up to me. Go ahead and get her what you get all of them. She may be different, but your contract with her isn't, right? I mean, she'll end up the same as 2017 in another few weeks anyway. The bitch was right about that. Maybe you'll run into Savannah in a few years and share a lovely kiss in an alley while crossing your fingers a new cuff doesn't find you."