I Married a Master(50)
Author: Melanie Marchande

When I got a little older, got into college, I ended up meeting the man who was "the best I ever had." That was the title I’d assigned to him, anyway. But now I could remember him – more skilled than a high school boy, but still impatient. Still clumsy. Unhappy with my response and always coaxing me, pushing me, wanting more than I could give him. I started faking it more often than not, so I wouldn’t feel like such an inconvenience.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. All this time I’d been reluctant to examine the memory, knowing it would tarnish. Everything these people were sharing and writing about – it was so far removed from anything I’d ever experienced. I didn’t think it was possible. But I knew what they were writing was real. Every word pulsed with authenticity.

Was this something I could have?

With him?

Just the thought of it was enough to make my heart race. The way he’d kissed me…if the lovemaking was even half as intense, I’d probably explode into a cloud of lust.

But there were the practical considerations. Such as, we weren’t really together. He didn’t want that. He’d made it very clear. Things would get too complicated, and then where would we be?

Hell, I didn’t know. I was just trusting his judgment. Why was complicated bad? Why didn’t he want to be with me, for real? It wasn’t for lack of desire. I’d felt the proof of that, pressed against my thigh.

Grown men didn’t get hard-ons from lukewarm kisses from women they were only pretending to like. I might have a sad, hollow excuse for a sexual history, but even I knew that.

I was tired of playing games, but this was what I’d signed up for.

***

Ben called me out of the blue, while I was sitting on the floor watching Laura set up her Little People village.

"Hi," I said. "I’m working."

"With the baby?" His voice sounded a little bit strange. "Tell her hi for me."

"I’ll make sure to do that," I said, dryly. "What’s going on?"

"This is embarrassing," he said, "but I need a favor."

A beat. I cleared my throat.

"…okay?"

He was – sleepy? Or…slightly tipsy, or something. "I’ve got to have my wisdom tooth out."

I blinked. "Now? Aren’t you about thirty-five?"

"Thirty-three," he said. "Although I’m not sure why that’s relevant."

"Don’t you usually have that done when you’re like…fifteen?" I crawled over to rescue a firefighter who’d rolled away, under the sofa. Laura’s frown of concern turned into a smile. "Or is that only for commoners?"

He sighed. "I might’ve…procrastinated."

"Oh, for…" I stood up, walking the length of the room while I shook my head. I seemed incapable of talking to this man without pacing. "Okay, so, what?"

"I need a ride," he said. "My driver, Tim – his grandmother got sick and he’s got to leave town for a while."

"Oh. Well if you talk to him, tell him I’m sorry to hear that." I thought for a moment. "What about Carol?"

"She’s busy that day," he said. "On vacation. In the Bahamas. Requested it over a year ago. I’m not that much of an irredeemable asshole. Besides, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend."

I really didn’t like the tingle that ran through me at that word. "What if I already had a vacation scheduled in the Bahamas?"

"That would be strange," he said. "Seeing as you’re my girlfriend."

Right.

I actually felt bad for him. The guy had no family, at least no one local, and

"Tuesday," he said. "Nine o’clock in the morning. It’s uptown. There’s a parking garage. I’ll pay for it."

"I should certainly hope so." I worried my lower lip between my teeth. "You know I don’t have a car, right?"

"I’ll rent one for you," he said.

"Uh, don’t you have like twenty cars?" I didn’t actually know. I just assumed.

He laughed a slightly dopey laugh. "Just because I’m rich, I must have twenty cars? I don’t. Who the hell drives in this city?"

"So you don’t have a car?" I was slightly bewildered. "I mean, besides the one Tim drives."

Laughing again, he took a moment to respond. "I have cars. Just not twenty. Not even close."

Oh, boy. What was he on? I rolled my eyes as I replied. "Well, it seems like just one would be enough to avoid renting."

"You are not driving one of my cars," he said, firmly. I could practically hear him crossing his arms.

"You sound like a spoiled child," I informed him. "But, fine. Sure. Of course. Like I’m going to pass up an opportunity to hear your twilight sleep ramblings."

I wondered if he’d considered that. With a sharp intake of breath, he seemed to think about the possibility for the first time.

"Don’t blackmail me," he said, finally. "You wouldn’t like me when I’m blackmailed."

A burst of laughter came out, before I could stop it. Laura glanced up at me in alarm. "Are you high right now?"

"A little," he said. "I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went to the doctor and he gave me something for the pain. It’s pretty strong. I forgot how strong it is."

"Don’t drive anywhere," I warned him. Suddenly, I remembered how he’d seemed to be in pain before we went to the club. "Was that what you were poking at, the other night?"

"It’s been bothering me for a while," he admitted. "I guess I was hoping it would go away on its own."

"Sure, that’s what usually happens with dental problems, right?" I snickered at him.

"Yes!" he said, defensively. "If you ignore them for long enough, they just rot and fall out. Problem solved. But this one’s a special case. It’s stuck in there. Apparently I need a surgeon. It’s complete bullshit, if you ask me. How does a tooth even get this fucked up? I think there’s a conspiracy involved. I knew I shouldn’t have turned down that offer to join the Illuminati."

"You’re not making any sense," I told him.

"You’re not making any sense," he grumbled. "By the way, I have very good oral hygiene. This is just one of those…one in a million medical errors."

"Okay, sure," I said. "But for the record, an impacted wisdom tooth isn’t exactly one-in-a-million. I had all mine taken out when I was a kid."

"Conspiracy," he mumbled. "See? Told you. How do you know for sure they wouldn’t have grown in? The dentists have us by the balls, I’m telling you."

"Right, well, make sure to let me know when you’ve finalized all your theories on that," I said. "I have to go. I’ll talk to you later."