“Did you come?”
She was quiet, laying there on her back, her eyes closed. I guessed she did. She acted that way. I was just asking. She didn’t answer. I felt stupid asking a second time, but did anyway.
“Did you come?” I asked.
“Yes! Yes!” she said in an exasperated tone. “I did.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be sorry. And don’t ask! God!”
“I thought you did. I just wasn’t sure.”
“Why do you have to ask? I could tell you came. So did the people upstairs. So did everyone in Borneo.”
“Sorry,” I repeated.
“Stop saying you’re sorry. You are ruining everything. Just hold me.”
I rolled her over and held her. It felt good for a minute. Then I got tired of it. She smelled like she came. I was getting hungry. I looked at the clock beside the bed. I decided to hold her for five minutes. That should be enough for any woman. I started timing myself.
“You’re watching the clock, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, you are. I can feel your head lift up. You’re going to lay here with me for a fixed amount of time and then stretch and say you feel like getting up.”
She sat up and covered herself. Why do women cover themselves after having sex? I’d already seen her naked.
“Men do not know how to express themselves,” she said. “And they ask such stupid questions.”
“Why are you covering yourself up?” I asked. “We’ve already seen each other.”
She got out of bed and put on a robe. “More stupid questions. Everything is completely ruined now. Isn’t there some place you have to be?”
This was working out great. “I probably should go.”
“Hurry up,” she said. “I’m going to spinning class.”
I threw on my clothes as fast as I could. She caught me at the door and threw her arms around me. “Did any of this mean anything to you?”
“Yes!” I whispered, burying my head in the back of her neck. “You heard me, right?”
“That was a physical thing. I mean did the whole thing register anywhere inside?”
“Yes. You mean everything to me.” My hands went around her waist. Our pelvises thrust against each other. “I like to smell your hair at the nape of your neck.” I was getting hungry again.
“The nape. The nape of your neck.”
She was quiet. Her mind was digesting my choice of words—the nape. “What are you feeling right now?”
Before I could think, I said, “I’m hungry.”
She looked at me right in the eye. “So am I,” she said. She kissed me. “I’ll fix breakfast.”
She fixed bacon and eggs, toast and even cooked up some hash brown potatoes. I really wanted an Egg MacMuffin and some McDonald’s coffee, some fresh air and a short drive down the block. But this was alright. The eggs were a little raunchy.
I thought about saying something. My mind searched for a word like nape. She liked that word. My coffee stared back at me. I could probably throw it down in under ten minutes. I still had room for an Egg MacMuffin and smelled it a block away.