Mister O(15)

“Tell me what to say to Simon, then. Can that be my first lesson?” she asks, sitting up straighter, all eager to learn.

I stretch my neck side to side, roll up my sleeves, and slide right into coach mode. Hell, maybe coaching her through adventures with other men will cure me of wanting to get naked with her. Nothing can dampen desire faster than knowing she’s into someone else, right? This is going to be just what I need to get her out of my system. A win-win for both of us. “Actually, your first lesson is you need to push him off another week or so. You’re not ready to see him yet. He gets you too flustered. You need to learn the ropes with someone else first.”

She looks confused. “Okay. But who?”

“Jason. He’s into you.”

“But I’m not thinking of him that way.”

“Even better.”

“So I should learn the ropes with him, even if I don’t think of him like that?”

I nod. “Sure. You might wind up liking him. You’re not Princess Awkward around him. It’ll be good training.”

She raises an eyebrow. I can’t resist. I lean forward, run a finger across it, and brush it back into place. “Don’t raise that eyebrow at me. You are in need of some serious training, and Jason is perfect. You like him as a friend, so that’s enough for now. I won’t let you lead him on too far. I promise, Okay?”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Trust me. We’re not going to yank him around. We’re just going to practice your . . . conversational skills,” I say diplomatically.

She laughs and then draws a deep breath. “Let’s conversate.”

“Do as I say. Open Facebook.”

She takes out her phone and taps the app.

“Accept his friend request.”

She nods and slides her thumb over the screen. “Done.”

“Now, post on his wall.”

She draws another breath and gives a crisp nod. “What do I say?”

“So great seeing you tonight. Exclamation point.”

She types, posts, and turns the phone to me, like a proud student eager to show her teacher the assignment.

I pat her shoulder. “You did good. Now, if my calculations are correct,” I say, pretending to look at a wristwatch, “you’ll get a message from him in about twenty minutes.”

I leave a twenty on the bar as a tip for Julia, and we head out into a warm October night.

“Nice night. I’ll walk you home,” I say.

“That sounds perfect.”

Twenty minutes later, we round the corner onto her block, and she nearly smacks into a tall dude wearing a Columbia T-shirt and laughing at something his goateed buddy says. I grab her elbow and yank her closer before the guy walks into her.

“Oh, sorry!” The apology comes from the T-shirt guy, who’s about my height. “Totally didn’t see you. My bad.”

“It’s all good,” Harper says with a quick smile. My arm is around her back still.

The guy swings his eyes to me, furrows his brow, then points at my face. Something like recognition dawns in his expression. “Wait . . . wait . . . you’re . . .”

His friend cuts in, a huge fan-boy grin forming. “Mister Orgasm.”

“That’s me,” I say casually.

“Holy shit. Your show rocks,” the tall guy says. “I went to a fan meetup you did a couple years ago. Dude, I followed your show back when it was just an online strip.”

With my free hand, we knock fists. “Love hearing that.”

“I can’t believe I just bumped into you walking around the city. I would ask you to sign my T-shirt, but that’d be weird, so let’s pretend I didn’t say that, but you’re awesome,” he says, practically bouncing.

“What he said,” his friend chimes in.

“He’s the best.” Harper beams, taking her turn on the compliment train.

“You guys rock. Really appreciate the support. Great meeting you,” I say, and we continue on our way.

Once the guys are out of earshot, Harper turns to me, her eyes lit up. “I’ve just witnessed a Mister Orgasm sighting in the wild, and it was kind of amazing. Does that happen often?”

I shake my head, laughing lightly. “Once or twice a year. I swear it’s not that frequent.”

She can’t stop grinning. “And they love you. They think you’re a stud.”

“They’re obviously right,” I deadpan, and she bumps her shoulder into mine. When we reach her building, her phone beeps. She grabs it from her purse, and I say, “I bet that’s the Jason reply.”

She slides open the screen, clicks on the message from Jason, and shows it to me. Hey Harper. So great seeing you! Want to get a cup of coffee?

I mime dunking a basketball. Nothing but net. “It’s a gift. Really it is,” I say, as we stop near the stoop of her building.

“You’re good, Nick. You know just what to do and how to behave. This is why you attract women in droves.”

I kind of want to protest. I feel like she has this impression of me that I don’t necessarily want her to have, but I’m not sure how to deflect this. “Because I have a gift?”

“That and several other reasons.” She waves broadly at my arms. It’s October, but it’s not chilly tonight so I don’t have a jacket on. “First, there are the arms. All that ink and muscle.”