Like It Was The Last Fuck of Our Lives (page 5)
She imagined him and his perfect body in a crowd. (Remember crowds?) And someone in the sea of people would breathe, just like everybody else was breathing. But there would be something different about this breath. This breath would carry something with it. That something would drift through the air, waiting to alight on some surface but would, instead, be inhaled by someone. By him. And that was all it would take. A simple inhale. Then it would start.
First, he’d fever. A dry cough. He’d feel badly and, if this had been a month ago, thought nothing of it. He would have gone to the store, purchased a bottle of Robitussin or a package of Sudafed, a bottle of juice or Gatorade, and just rode it out. But now. Now it was different. Everything was different.
Instead of a drop in temperature there’d be a rise in terror. Then body aches would give his fear new justification. Soon simple breathing would become difficult. He’d try to get tested. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. The government said they were “ramping up.” God, she was so tired of hearing things were ramping up while everyone actually dealing, hand-to-hand combat with the pandemic, was begging for more. More ventilators, more hospital beds, it’s going to get worse before it gets better, more gloves, more visors, more masks, Christ, why can’t we just get a hundred more goddamn masks?
Why was she here with Garrett right now? Why was she going to fuck him? What would it get her? Two hours of physical pleasure? A boost in her self esteem? A respite from her loneliness? Shouldn’t she have stayed in her house, closed up and questioning like everyone else? She’d be back there soon anyway. What was the point?
“Hey,” he said, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. “What’s the matter?” he asked softly.
When she heard the question, she immediately knew the answer. And the answer disappointed her. She didn’t want to be that woman. And she definitely didn’t want to ruin what she had with him. But right now, in this moment, it seemed like she might. But she couldn’t ignore it. She couldn’t continue as usual. Usual had become unusual. She tried, but she couldn’t imagine being naked underneath him, his cock inside her, his tongue in her mouth, his hands moving all over her body. It wasn’t enough. Not now.
“Are you alright?”
“No,” she said softly but finally.