Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 89

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 89

The store was exactly what he’d been expecting. It was brightly lit with shelves crammed full of
lurid products, all of which seemed designed to titillate a specific brand of cishet man who had
no attention span. Large-breasted women graced most of the boxes and plastic clamshell labels.
In a far corner, a black curtain stood between the retail space and—whatever happened behind
black curtains. Did people pay to watch porn? In this day and age, when every cell phone
provided them with unlimited options for free? Maybe truckers didn’t trust the internet, which,
fair.
Besides Margo and himself, Eli saw only a lone bearded cashier at the back behind a counter,
watching something explosion-heavy on a battered laptop.
Eli ducked down the dildo aisle. He could sense Margo following close behind, her airport-ready
slip-on shoes shuffling along the cement floor.
“Keep your eyes peeled for something nonthreatening,” he told her. “Beginner stuff. Something
that says, ‘My First Anal Experience.’ ” A lot of the silicone cocks on display sported names like
the Punisher or Bareback Stallion, which was not the vibe Eli was going for. He picked up a box
with a simple, smooth design that called itself the Rapture-Bringer, but on further inspection,
this moniker seemed less about romance and more about evangelical imagery. Eli put that box
back on the shelf with a heavy sigh.
“So. How excited are we?” Margo asked. She was on the other side of the aisle, poking at a
pegboard bag filled with teeny-tiny plastic dicks suitable for a bachelorette party. “Hitting that
hot dad. Getting some sweet ex sex. Claiming new territory.” Her eyebrows did a Groucho Marx
impression.
Eli groaned. “Stop making it sound gross.”
“You stop daydreaming about taking this dude’s backdoor virginity.” Margo frowned and picked
up a nearby dildo with a tie-dye design called Grateful Head. “Wait, is this the guy who took
your virginity?”
Eli could feel the back of his neck getting hot. “Can we stop talking about virginity like it’s a real
thing?”

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Margo’s mouth fell open. “Oh my god, your therapist would be digging deep into this if you
were still paying her. An eye for an eye. Except it’s penetration.” She gestured with the tie-dye
model. Vigorously.
“This isn’t—I’m not exacting revenge. Would you stop?” He grabbed the toy from her and put it
back on the shelf. “At the risk of being dragged over the coals by your rapier wit for showing
even a hint of real emotion, I like him. A lot.” Understatement, but close enough. “I know this is
just a fun interlude for the two of us, but—Marg, I really, really like him.” It sounded so childish,
but it was true.
Margo bit her lip and bobbed her head a few times. “And at the risk of sounding like the most
self-serving bitch in the world: Do you like him enough to turn down LA?”
Eli rubbed the back of his burning neck. “I don’t know. It’s all so up in the air, right? I would
need to talk to him about it. But first you need to tell me this offer is solid, that they really want
me on the project, and that it’s all going forward. I can’t decide until I know where everyone
else stands.”
“That’s fair. And hey.” Margo stepped into his personal space. For a moment, Eli was convinced
she was going to give him a hug, but she reached past his shoulder and retrieved one of the
dildos from the shelf. She pressed the box with a picture of an iridescent blue dong into his
hands. “Slim, compact, harnesscompatible. And it matches your eyes.”
“My eyes are brown,” Eli said.
“My point is, if he’s what’s best for you,” she said, “then that’s what I want for you too. Sorry if I
pile too much shit on you sometimes.”
“Nah. Don’t be sorry. It’s what I need to hear.”