“Holy crap,” Clementine said after Bella had come slinking out of the room, her face bearing telltale razor burns evident even in the dim light of the hallway. Oh, and sporting a damp spot on her abdomen. “You were going at it with him, weren’t you?”
Isabella sighed. “Geez, Clem, I’m not saying anything, but why’d you do that?”
“What do you mean why’d I do that?” she said. “We always rescue each other and you were in there a long damned time and I started worrying about what was happening in there. I mean, it’s not like the two of you were best friends or anything. I was afraid you couldn’t extricate yourself from the guy so I was doing you a favor. A favor, mind you!”
“The only thing you did is deprive me of a long-overdue orgasm I was right on the brink of, dammit.”
“An orgasm!” she said way too loud for the crowd.
“Shhh!”
“An orgasm?” Clem said, this time in a loud whisper. “You went in there hating the guy and the next thing you know he’s working his way around your sweet spot?”
“Sweet spot?”
“Sweet spot, G-spot. It’s all the same thing. Omigod. Tell me what happened? Did I not tell you the two of you would be good together? He’s hot. Tell me he’s not hot.”
Isabella was starting to come down from her sexual high and reality was kicking in, never a good thing. “It was a mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean yeah, he’s pretty good-looking. And he seems really nice and well-meaning. And as we were talking, it was really hard not to notice he had quite the package. I mean, it was straining to get out of his pants. It was sort of cute because I could tell it was a, well, pressing need, but he didn’t dare say a thing. And he told me my eyes looked like this really sweet kitten.”
“He compared you to a kitten?”
“And he called me Princess. I think only because he was kind of awkward, not knowing what to call me. But it was sort of endearing.”
“Well, shoot, Bell. Go back. I don’t want to be the cause of coitus interruptus.”
“We weren’t going to have sex. There was no coiting going on.”
“Coiting? I’m pretty sure that is not a verb.”
“Listen, if they can make ‘medal’ a verb, anything’s fair game.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know, like in the Olympics, when those little gymnasts ‘medal.’ That is so not a verb. But now it is. So I’m going to make it official: coit is a verb.”
“I think the Latins would be rolling in their graves.”
“The Latins?”
“Aren’t they the people who spoke that language?”
Isabella put her hand to her forehead, exasperated. “Please, tell me you’re joking. It was the ancient Romans who spoke Latin.”
“That’s what I meant. But I want to hear more: so did you do it? How big is he? I bet he’s huge! You can tell because look at those hands.”
“I’m sure that is an old wives’ tale.”
“Not at all,” Clem said. “I’m going to look it up on my phone right now.” She pulled out her phone and tapped some words into her web browser.
“Here it goes...’There is absolutely no correlation between body part size and penis size.’ Wait, okay so whatever. But it does say size matters. Actually, it claims it doesn’t, but you know and I know that is a complete crock. Size matters. And I bet he’s no inchworm.”
Isabella burst out laughing. “Thanks to you, I’ll never know.”
“What do you mean you’ll never know? You’re going back there right now, and then you’ll report back to me.”
“I will do no such thing. That was just something that got a little out of control. Now, granted I was trying to be the standard-bearer for all people to learn to let it go, to live in the moment and not hold grudges. But that does not mean I’ll end up having spontaneous sex with the man. That’s just not right!”
“Oh, girl, it is so, so, so right. Trust me. Ask Sebastian about that.”
Isabella plugged her fingers in her ears. “La, la, la, la, la. I don’t want to know about sex with Sebastian. He’s my cousin. That’s completely creepy. La, la, la, la, la.”
Clementine playfully pushed her shoulder with her hand.
“Okay, fine, but listen, go finish what you started. Otherwise, I’ll feel entirely responsible. Now I’m going to go catch up with my man, and you can report back to me once you’ve done the deed. Hear me?”
Isabella sighed. “Yeah, sure.” But she had no intention of following through on that. None whatsoever.