Summer Fling: An Anthology by Vi Keeland
I See You Hanging There
Nevah
I’VE SLEPT INsome shitty places over the course of my life. My parents are great people, but we were firmly entrenched in the low end of middle class growing up. I had a single bed until I was eighteen, and the same mattress from the time I was four until I finally moved out. Incidentally, my parents sold the house at that time and bought an RV so they could travel around the US.
We’re a family of nomads. Hell, I spent a number of months sleeping on my sister’s couch when I was going through a particularly rough patch that included one of my douche exes.
But this motel is another level of shitty.
Lawson rocks back on his heels. “I can sleep on the floor.”
“It might actually be the more hygienic location.” I pick up the corner of the comforter and rub the fabric between my fingers. “This could double as a tarp.”
Lawson jams his thumbs into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Do you think there’s a HomeGoods or even a Walmart close by where we could grab sheets? Or maybe sleeping bags and a couple of blowup mattresses?”
“Oh my God!” I grab Lawson by the lapels of his shirt. Only one button is fastened, just below the center of his chest, so his incredibly perfect six-pack abs have been gloriously on display. I’ve been trying not to stare at them all day. Or his nipple ring.
“Did you see a cockroach?” He makes a gagging sound.
“What? No! And I really hope I don’t either. But I do have some very good news.”
“Okay. I’d love some of that right about now.” His eyes are such a pretty blue and they’re currently locked on mine as he awaits my ray of verbal sunshine.
“I have a set of bed sheets and a comforter in my car. They’re actually a gift for Cosy’s birthday. I realize that sounds like a weird gift. Especially for someone married to a freaking hotel mogul billionaire who can buy her a jet if he feels like it. Which he’s considered. But there’s a big long story to go with the sheets, and I’ll happily tell you the entire thing after we strip this down and put on fresh, fornication-free bedding.”
Lawson cringes. “I was really trying not to think about that, but if I’m honest, it was the first thing that came to mind when we stepped inside this room.”
I mirror his cringey face. “Same, unfortunately.” I release his lapels, realizing I’ve been right up in his personal space. “I’ll just grab the sheets from the car.”
“Sounds good. And if you happen to have a hazmat suit or two, that’d be great.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I head back outside and grab the comforter and sheet set I had custom designed for my sister. The great thing about a Cadillac Eldorado is that the trunk is huge, so I can store a lot of crap in here. I rummage around in the recess of the trunk, practically climbing inside to get to the back in case there are things in there that I’ve forgotten about.
I snag the handle of Cosy’s very old, very worn-out backpack. While I was in Vegas, I visited with my parents, who were there for a friend’s retirement party. They’re also coming to the party, but they left a couple of days early with plans to stop along the way.
I found the bag in their storage unit, along with some photo albums from our teen years, and thought Cosy might get a kick out of them. I didn’t bother checking the contents of the backpack before I tossed it into the trunk, but it doesn’t hurt to see what’s in there.
I carry the load of stuff back into the motel room just as Lawson comes out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his shorts while wearing a look of absolute disgust.
“I’m guessing it’s pretty nasty in there.” I drop the backpack and the wrapped box containing my sister’s birthday gift onto the table because I don’t want to contaminate anything by allowing it to touch the bed.
“I’ve seen nicer outhouses.”
“It’s that bad?” Considering Lawson’s family are the creators of a doll that’s been popular for a good two decades, I’ll go out on a limb and assume he hasn’t had to use many outhouses in his lifetime.
“Do you remember what the showers used to look like in high school locker rooms?” he asks somberly.
I nod.
“It’s worse.”
There isn’t a whole lot of space between the bed and the ancient dresser boasting a tube TV straight out of the nineties, so we both have to turn sideways to pass each other. My chest brushes his diaphragm and my fingers skim the back of his arm, causing both of us to break out into goosebumps.
We each mutter, “Sorry,” as I peek inside the bathroom. “Oh, wow.”
“The wallpaper really adds a nice psychedelic touch.”
“It’s definitely trippy.” Once again, the brown-orange theme is carried through in the bathroom. What was once a white sink is now beige with age and grime. The toilet seat lid is one of those shell numbers. The plain white plastic shower curtain has several holes in it. I peek my head in, noting the rust stains around the faucets and the very grey tint to the tub. “I think it’s probably a good idea to treat this like the gym and shower with your flip-flops on.”
“I would one hundred percent agree with that statement. I also think air-drying is recommended over using one of those towels.” Lawson’s finger appears in my peripheral vision and I follow it to the brown towels folded neatly on the vanity.
“Probably a good idea.”
“Should we tackle the sheets before we brave the shower?”
“Sure.”
We strip the bed down to the mattress pad and immediately wish we hadn’t. I don’t even want to know what the mattress looks like based on the vast number of unidentifiable stains. We debate the merits of sleeping on the floor, which had originally been a joke, and decide it’s probably the safer of the two options.
Before I open the gift box containing her sheets and comforter, I open Cosy’s old travel backpack. “Holy shit, Lawson! We just hit the mother lode!”
I start pulling out items. It’s one of those huge backpacks that can hold an insane amount of stuff, including a two-person pop-up tent and a double-sized air mattress with pump and inflatable pillows. There are also some granola bars, but they’ve been expired for about two years, so unfortunately they get tossed.
Twenty minutes later, the tent is set up, the air mattress inflated, and I’ve unwrapped my sister’s birthday present. I’m sure she’ll forgive me for giving it to her used once I provide her with the photographic evidence of our less than appealing accommodations. An actual campground probably would’ve been a better option, but we’re here now, and at least we won’t have to deal with bears and woodland creatures visiting us in the night—hopefully.
I tear through the plastic and pull out the sheet set first. Lawson and I crawl back inside the tent so we can put them on the air mattress. We took turns stepping on the pump to inflate it.
He frowns as he takes one end of the fitted sheet, leaning in closer to inspect the design. “What’s going on here?”
“They’re Kama Sutra sheets.” I grin. Prior to meeting her husband, my sister was a virgin. A twenty-two-year-old virgin who also happened to work at an adult toy store. Yes, there’s a lot of irony in that.
Lawson barks out a laugh. “Holy fuck, they sure are. Where’d you get these? I want a set.”
“I found them online.” I also bought myself a set because they’re hilarious and maybe one day I’ll find my own soulmate who will want to work his way through every single position featured on these ridiculous sheets.
While we make the bed, I tell Lawson the story of how Cosy and Griffin met and eventually fell in love, despite the odds being stacked against them. He’d drawn the short straw for a bachelor party and ended up at the store where Cosy worked. She helped him check all the things off on his list, including a double-headed dildo. He’d been mortified and she’d had way more fun than was reasonable dealing with his embarrassment.
He’d come back a few weeks later to ask her out on a date. At first she’d said no, but eventually she caved, and the rest is history.
By the time we’re done making the bed, I’m flushed, and not because of the exertion. Looking at endless sex positions while inside a tent with a hot guy reminds me exactly how long it’s been since I’ve had actual sex.
“So.” I prop my fists on my hips. “Based on the state of this room, I’m guessing the pool is probably not something we want to swim in unless we’d like to end up with an extra limb growing out of our foreheads.”
“While extra limbs might be useful, I’m inclined to skip the pool.” Lawson pulls the elastic free and his hair tumbles down, reaching his shoulders in the kind of loose, beachy waves women spend hours at a salon to achieve.
I’m still wearing a baseball cap and have been all day. I’m sure I have the worst case of hat head and my hair is extra greasy because I didn’t bother washing it this morning, thinking I’d be relaxing in a Jacuzzi tub by evening.
“So showers and then check out that pub?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Lawson thumbs over his shoulder. “Ladies first, of course.”
I gather up my shower supplies and a change of clothes and lock myself in the bathroom. The hot water has two modes, scalding and lukewarm. Aware that I’ll be sleeping beside this man tonight, on a double mattress no less, I take it upon myself to shave my legs. I don’t want it to feel like he’s rubbing up against burrs should we accidentally make contact under the sheets. I have no reasonable explanation for shaving the rest of my important bits, apart from the fact that it’s habit. And maybe also because I have sex on the brain after staring at those sheets.
While I don’t intend to jump Lawson’s bones, I would also not be opposed to it. He’s a good-looking guy, and despite the slew of very unfortunate events and his complete lack of car knowledge, I’ve enjoyed his company. We could definitely have some fun this weekend, which isn’t something I’ve allowed myself to do in a long time.
I use the blow dryer in lieu of a towel to dry off, change into a comfy sundress, and give Lawson a turn in the shower.
“I’m just going to check out the vending machine. Any requests?” I ask as I run my brush through my wet hair.
“I’ll eat just about anything, except nuts. I don’t trust those from a vending machine.” He shrugs out of his shirt and drapes it over the brown velour chair in the corner of the room, giving me an excellent view of his defined chest and rippling abs. His cargo shorts hang low on his hips, displaying that delicious V of muscle.
“No nuts. Got it,” I echo, then bite my tongue before I say something about how much I love nuts.
On my way to the vending machine, I take a detour to the pool, just to check it out. A sad, half-deflated beach ball floats in the green tinged water, and about half a tree’s worth of leaves covers the bottom. There’s also a film of algae lining the edge.
I call Cosy as I head toward the vending machines.
“Why are you still in Utah?”
Sometimes this app thing where we can see exactly where each other is at any given time is as much a curse as a blessing. “We ran into a bit of a hiccup.”
“What kind of hiccup? Wait a second, are you at a motel?”
“I blew a tire and all the garages are closed until morning. I don’t want to drive another four hours on a spare and risk bending the frame on Ellie, so Lawson and I are staying here for the night.” I always name my cars.
“At a motel? With Lawson?”
“Yeah.” I approach the ancient vending machine and rummage around in my purse for coins. The selection is unsurprisingly weak.
“In separate rooms?”
“They only had one left.”
“You’re in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. How are all the rooms rented out?” Her disbelief is not unwarranted.
“There’s a wedding.” I start shoving quarters into the slot. “Look, I need whatever intel you have on this Lawson guy. He seems nice, but you know how shitty my man radar is.”
“Already looked into him. Based on Griffin’s reports, he’s a good guy. Kinda awkward, used to be a bit of a playboy, but seems to have settled down in the past couple of years. Might have asked about you at a party a while back. I don’t know if he’s relationship material, but if you’re having fun with him I can give you my sisterly approval and a green light to enjoy yourself should you end up spooning tonight.”
Griffin is a very stand-up guy, so his opinion is generally something I trust. “Okay. Thanks. Sister approval noted and appreciated. I’ll call you in the morning when we’re back on the road.”
“Sounds good. Have fun and stay safe.” She makes a kissy sound. “Love you!”
I end the call feeling good about my judgment as far as Lawson is concerned and go back to assessing my snack options. Funyuns and Cool Ranch Doritos, while delicious, are not ideal when sleeping in close quarters with a man I don’t know that well, but find attractive. Also, Cosy’s green light factors in at least a little.
I settle on a bag of plain chips and another of pretzels, even though I don’t particularly love them either. I check the dates to make sure they’re not expired before I also buy a package of Nibs and another of sour gummies. I only have enough quarters left for one bottle of Mountain Dew, but we can share.
“I come bearing gifts!” I shout as I shoulder my way through the door. And freeze because standing in the middle of the room with one foot in a pair of fresh cargo shorts is Lawson.
And he’s commando.
Free balling.
Also, he has a peen piercing.
